Visible Grace Travel Blog

VisiGrace news!

2011-12-19T11:43:00.001-08:00

Christmas shopping

2011-11-22T17:57:00.000-08:00

if you want to give a love one a gift, but don't want to brave the Black Friday chaos, why not buy them something beautiful and meaningful- that benefits a local non profit and helps support orphaned children in Kenya?

we still have a few sling bags left (they are going FAST), and their pictures can be found here
and they can be payed for using paypal, here:

we also have a few VG t shirts remaining, for men and women.

new Africa shirts can be bought here

and our original, acacia tree shirts here (they are on sale!)

please consider supporting Visible Grace this year as you buy your gifts!

thank you,
Ashby Rauch

more story: part two: unedited

2011-10-11T23:31:00.000-07:00

(first part of the story here.)

said ten acres were acquired with a lot of tears, time and donations from generous people like you.

and several thousand cups of tea with various land owners and their lawyers. (ooh, book idea: drinking cups of tea in a foreign country while trying to build a school. it could work.)

Nairobi is unreal. combine the poorest of the poor (50% of the nation makes $2 a day or less) with the up-and-coming. combine, also, the grandmothers who don't speak English, who know how to knit and sew and farm and cut their own firewood, with the youth, the generation who speaks ONLY English, and poorly, who own cars and work downtown and move out before they get married.

combine, even, the fashion and trends from Europe with the colourful fabrics that one pictures when they think of Africa: wrapped around your waist, your shoulders, your head.

combine all of this with parasites and HIV and water you can't drink until it's boiled.

enter one naive college student who thinks she knows everything.

FUNdraising

2011-09-26T15:23:00.000-07:00

hey shoppers!

I have pretty, pretty things for sale:

we are actually building now (!!!!!!!) and so it's

a) much more motivating to beg people for money, knowing that every dollar gets us closer to finishing our building, and

b) much more important that we get money, SOON. those walls aren't gonna build themselves, guys.

so...introducing our new, pretty purses, direct from Kenya:

and our beautiful African jewelry:

and more details on purchasing them soon. (necklaces are $15, earrings $10, purses $25.)

we have a few of our new shirts left: buy them here

and even fewer of our old design, which are on SALE! (here)

in conclusion, has spending money every been this fun?

a start.

2011-09-19T22:40:00.000-07:00

I started writing a story.

Carve a thin strip out of the jungle and throw down some tarmac. Add traffic: trucks, people, cars, animals. Cows, goats, donkeys. Monkeys who refuse to use the crosswalks and do not look both ways before crossing.

Toss four million people into houses on either side of the road. This is Nairobi.

There are four things I love unequivocally in this city. One is the giraffe center, where you can feed giraffe and stand right up next to their heads. They are peaceful, and beautiful.
Two: an American coffee house, complete with flushing toilets, drinkable water, wireless internet and polite wait staff. You can read there for hours undisturbed.
The third thing is the Ngong market when it is not market day. It is quiet and you can buy almost anything. Avocados the size of softballs. Papaya and mango. Flip flops and kitchen utensils. Fabric, used sweaters, pashminas and sugar cane. Eleven different kinds of beans.

Number four is the ten acres of land south of Kiserian registered under the name of Visible Grace.

fewer and even further between.

2011-09-14T15:38:00.000-07:00

I always promise myself that when I get back to Oregon, I'll blog more and catch up on stories here on my travel blog. and I remind myself that the stories and images from Kenya aren't going anywhere, that it's just as vivid in my head when I'm here as when I'm there, and that I'll be able to get it all written down, if I just sit down and do it.

then I get settled here in Portland, and I dream about Kenya and giraffes and Susan and Kims and babies and dirt and matatus, and I wake up and I fully intend to blog, and then my brain is all, 'wow, traffic was really bad today; Terry Gross has such good questions; I can't find my checkbook; New Seasons closes in 15 minutes' and it's just. so. hard. to bring Kenya back here to the world wide web.

which is weird because, as I said, it's all so clear to me and I have no problem thinking about Kenya, all the time all the time all the time. but I never seem to get around to articulating my thoughts and feelings into normal people words.

and maybe no one cares, and I know it's more exciting to read an update LIVE ON LOCATION IN KENYA then it is, you know, semi-live from my living room!, but I still feel obligated to keep momentum going here, and I think my writing improves with practice. at least, I hope it does.

so here's a semi-monthly update to say: I'm tryin, world.

and on that note- we freaking BROKE GROUND! and that's really all I ever want to talk about, ever.

what do YOU want to talk about?

pieces

2011-09-07T21:59:00.000-07:00

I don't know how to describe my favourite things about Kenya, but I'll try. it's glimpses. it's the everyday things. the snapshots of a life lived in Africa.

it's the feeling of satisfaction when you wash your own laundry by hand, and it's finally hanging on the line to dry. it's when you've been there long enough to sleep through the donkey and rooster wake up calls; when you finally look right when crossing the street, instead of left. it's when you step inside the Ngong market to buy bananas and tomatoes and cilantro and it's perfectly, inexplicably quiet. it's when you are washing dishes, leaning over the sink, soap up to your elbows, listening to your neighbours' chatter and inhaling the smells of chai, charcoal and sunset. it's when you are stuck in traffic on the road from Rongai to Bomas, and you see baboons sticking their rears up at you as they retreat into the bush.

it's the sunset over the hills.

it's the subtle grasp of the culture and the language. the feel of the air early in the morning. the familiar beep of a matatu on the road. the particular way that children say 'how are you?' and the way they shake hands, with their left hand grasping their right forearm.

it's when a visitor knocks and you welcome them in, give them slippers and put water on for tea. it's when you and your sister finish each other's sentences. it's Friday nights with a bowl of popcorn, a litre of Coke and season two of Lost.

it's the little things, and the big ones.

VG shirts are love.

2011-08-25T16:27:00.000-07:00

This is my nephew, Kim. He joined us when we visited the slums, and he helped give candy to the kids there. Here he his modeling his Visible Grace shirt in front of a modern art exhibit.

You can order your VG shirt here. They are made by American Apparel, designed by Ashby Rauch and Tim Coe, and they are helping to fund the building of a home for orphaned children.

Buy one.

On Community: part one.

2011-08-19T16:41:00.001-07:00

What was it like to bring friends from Oregon 'home' to Kenya?

Wonderful. Difficult. Exciting. Exhausting. Scary. Relieving. Trying. Challenging. Ridiculously fun.

I laughed a lot harder, and a lot more often, then I have in ages. I learned a lot: about myself, about others, about my shortcomings and my strengths, and about making chocolate chip cookies under pressure. I learned that most people have a better sense of direction than I do, and I learned that Keith cannot multi-task. I learned that there is no puppy guarding in hide and seek.

Several friends have come to visit me in Kenya before, but this was our first official 'team', and it was the first time I had the privilege of traveling to Kenya with people. I have come to accept the fact that I may never be able to articulate how wonderful it is to not have to drag my every everything into the bathroom in the airport. I confirmed how nice it is to have friends to talk to on the plane, and friends to sleep on. And we discovered that I get really, really shrill when we are landing in Nairobi.

I mentioned before that the six of us stayed in two apartments, four Americans in one, and two of us sharing Susan and Wilson's apartment. Because their kitchen is fully furnished, we prepared and ate our meals in Susan and Wilson's house. As you can imagine (and here the introverts shudder and the extroverts beam in approval) it was pretty crowded. Pretty real. Pretty communal, if you will. I personally loved it, as I always love an opportunity to pretend I am living with friends. Everyone did really, really well. Considering that eight of us were sharing one computer, one kitchen, two bathrooms and four bedrooms, it's pretty miraculous that we are all still friends- oh, but this is an exceptional group of incredibly gracious people. So there you go.

There were mornings when I felt like my life was perfect: Keith washing dishes. Linds making beds. Susan singing in the shower. Pete making eggs, or coffee. Ang on the computer. Muso poking her little head into the living room to ask if Auntie Lindsay had learned Kikuyu yet. Wilson ironing his, my or Susan's clothes. I'm not SO great at mentally preparing for a whole day, remembering everything I need to take with me, and getting dressed, especially when I'm exhausted and distracted, and there were days when I barely made it out the door- but there were, as I said, moments when I felt that everything was exactly, wonderfully perfect.

Because I love people. I love being around people. I love feeling loved. And I have wanted, for some time now, to live with friends in Kenya.

I spent some time with some good friends in Haiti last year. We stayed in a children's home, and there was a community room we spent a lot of time in. This provided me with glimpses of my 'dream life': someone on this couch, reading, and someone else on that couch, talking. I would be sewing or knitting or playing with my camera, and some of us would be washing dishes, and others would be learning Creole. Living life, together: that's what I want, so much.

So this, again, felt like a glimpse, like a fleeting moment that I wanted to capture and bring back with me. Those were the perfect mornings.

And then there were mornings where everything was awful, and disastrous, and I felt like I wasn't going to make it. Oh yeah, did I mention I can be difficult to live with? And that people like their space? And that they had jet lag and culture shock, and I wanted things to go my way, most (okay all) of the time, and that when I get stressed and overwhelmed, I don't communicate well?

I didn't mention that? Weird.

But again: people. Gracious, loving, grown up people, people who care for one another and who choose, morning after merciful morning, to follow Jesus.

So I mean, things weren't perfect, or magical, but after all, I did make chocolate chip cookies, so it probably could have been worse.

mathare

2011-08-14T01:32:00.001-07:00

Okay: on the Saturday before we left, we scheduled a trip to visit the slums in Ngong.

Some background:
Ngong town is a suburb of Nairobi. It is the nearest town (bus stop, grocery store, internet café) to Susan and Wilson’s apartment. It is where I buy bananas, and phone credit. And it has a large slum curving around behind it, hiding God knows how many people, people we walk past every day, people buying and selling food, buying and selling produce.

Dictionary.com defines a slum as follows: slum: (often pluralized): slums: a thickly populated, run-down, squalid part of a city, inhabited by poor people.
So. There’s that.

Visible Grace is making an effort to establish a relationship with the people in the slums for several reasons. I want them to know what Visible Grace is about. We will most likely be adopting some of these children: the kids who have lost their parents and are taken in for by their neighbour, kids who don’t stand a chance, who will end up back here in the slums, begging. Subsiding.

I also think it’s an important reminder for myself and other Americans: this is how people live. It’s easy to forget, in Nairobi. There’s affluence here. There’s ice cream. The roads are paved, and the internet is fairly reliable. It’s so easy to ignore the hurt and the poverty. But it’s right there, and once you see it you really can’t forget it.

Another reason we go to the slums, to be perfectly honest, is because I am so anxious to be doing something. It’s real hard, when I’m staring at spreadsheets all day, to feel and believe that I am making a difference in kids’ lives. I struggle with this a lot. So walking through the slums for a day, distributing groceries and clothing, visiting people and praying for them, helps me feel a little closer to it all.

The point is, on Saturday the 23^rd of July, Susan and I left the house early to meet people in Ngong. The team stayed behind to have breakfast and get ready like normal people (I hate mornings).

Susan and I spent a couple hours running errands in Ngong. Highlights include drinking tea, calling our driver, calling Christine, going to the bank, buying groceries and staples for ten households in the slums (and candy for the kids) and having the food total be the exact same amount we had budgeted. I mean exact: I had 8,000 shillings, and after I impulsively bought candy, and added salt to our grocery list, our total came to 8,000 shillings. EXACTLY.After meeting the team, and shoving candy in everyone's pockets, we spent a few minutes waiting for the chairperson (the slums have an elected leader, someone who communicates among the people, and brings their needs to the local government) in a church compound. We of course collected a small fanclub- kids who most likely smelled candy on us- and our friend Christine quickly organised them into rows and began leading them in praise songs.

As one does.

After the chairman arrived and we had distributed the kids’ clothing (which our team had brought from home) and the groceries amongst ourselves, we started walking. I’ll be your eyes, don’t worry. Look there, the ground is very uneven, and if you slip, you’ll be covered in dust and there’s trash everywhere and that bush- it has thorns. Here is a puddle that cannot be sanitary- be careful, now. Look to your left, there’s a small boy peering at us through the barbed wire. His dad is methodically sweeping the front step, see? Take a photo, yes, be careful as we walk down this alley- there’s a ditch running right down the middle. Here is the community toilet, it’s covered in burlap and those nails have rusted. Be careful. Be careful. Be careful. See these kids following us? That baby is carrying a baby. (Yes, Kim, give them candy.)

Here’s a house- duck low through the gate and we can all squeeze into their entryway- two of us will go inside, the man is bedridden. You’ll have to squint; it’s so dark and the window is covered. He’s there, in the bed, behind that curtain- this half of the house is their living room. He’s in bed; he is sick; the neighbor brings him food every day. We’ll leave her with shoes for her son. This small stove is his kitchen. These are his only belongings. This pile, here. That’s his laundry. It’s time to leave, shake his hand- now we’ll go outside and squeeze down the next alleyway, the next aisle, the next dusty path- to the next family.

The afternoon passed quickly in this manner. Ten homes, ten bags of groceries, ten prayers, ten stories. We visited a friend (Mama Saidiki) last, and gave her the rest of the clothing we had brought. We talked with her for a while and took myriad photos. Saidiki is a former classmate of Susan’s, who now spends his days begging in Ngong. On this particular day he had gone to visit his grandmother, who unbelievably lives in a neighbouring slums.

Oh, this cycle. It never ends. What kind of world do we live in, that three generations end up living in squalor and destitution? And when, for crying out loud, is Jesus coming back to rescue us?

I am grateful, so grateful- for a bed to sleep in, and a community who loves me- for resources enough to buy food for myself, and for others. For friends who donate their children’s clothing so that we can bless these precious few families.

But it’s never enough. It’s never enough.

news. letter.

2011-08-11T14:15:00.000-07:00

You'll probably receive a copy in the mail, in your inbox, and on facebook, but just in case, the latest copy of our newsletter (mercifully edited and designed by the lovely Simone Finney) can be found here- complete with copious pics of our team and a link back to this very blog. Full circle, etc.

mtoto and mtoto

2011-08-10T18:31:00.000-07:00

Of the many things I love, giraffes and babies are pretty high on my list. This is fairly well known among anyone who’s known me for longer than six seconds- especially the part about babies. I have a ‘baby voice’ that I have absolutely no control over: I get really excited and high-pitched when I see a puppy, or any child under the age of seven, or even a pregnant woman. I also have a ‘mom voice’ which I can only bring out when the occasion demands: when they ask for the tenth time if they can have dessert, even though they know they can’t. When one sibling is hitting the other, and I’m driving the car. When a child turns off their listening ears and runs in front of a car.

Or, apparently, when a four day old giraffe decides to walk toward its mother.

Anyway: Friday, July 15. In order to fit in as many things as possible, and in order to kick jet lag out of the way, I packed our first few days in Kenya pretty full. Friday’s agenda was as follows: children’s home, lunch, giraffe center. Keeping in mind that we are taking public transportation, this is dangerously close to a full day. Miraculously, everything went as planned. Which is harder than it sounds- it’s not like we’re a bunch of fools, and can’t get anything done. It’s not like I didn’t give us any credit.

It’s just that NOTHING EVER GOES AS PLANNED IN KENYA. EVER.

So when I say ‘everything went as planned’, I mean that the busses were actually running, and on time no less. The children’s home let us in even though we were a larger-than-normal group. Lunch was actually available and served in a timely manner. The giraffe center was open. Etc. Let us celebrate the small victories, here. It was a pretty good day.

New Life Children’s Home was founded in the early 90s by a British couple living in Kenya. They take in abandoned babies, care for and nurture them, and adopt them out to loving homes. Their oldest children are preschool aged.

We arrive around eleven in the morning; this involves two bumpy bus rides, a ten minute walk, and a brief stint to buy a banana and take several pictures of a cement wall. We check in at the gate, wait patiently in the lobby, and go through a brief introduction to and tour of the home. We are taken to the back to put on aprons. They are out of aprons.

We go upstairs so they can show us the toddlers. One baby literally lunges toward me, and since I haven’t washed my hands yet, I can’t pick him up. I try to explain this to him and he throws himself at my feet.

It is torture. I somehow survive.

We decide to forage ahead, apronless. We wash our hands hospital-style. We are reminded that picture taking is okay, but posting said pictures on Facebook is not. We are free to choose a room, choose a baby, choose an activity.

I meander upstairs and back into the toddlers room. There are about a dozen children here, and a few Kenyan workers who will tell us the babies’ names if asked. Untold are their histories, their sob stories, their HIV status. We don’t need this; it’s just the morbidity in me that wants to know the nitty and the gritty. I’m just being honest here- judge me if you must.

Speaking of honesty, this is as good a time as any to admit that this children’s home was mostly worked into our schedule for Lindsay’s benefit. Lindsay loves her some babies, and in her fundraising efforts for this trip would ask her sponsors for money ‘so she could go to Kenya and hold babies’. Of course, the rest of us enjoyed the visit as well, and I always think it is beneficial for Americans to both see the need in Kenya, and the people who are working toward a solution. But between you and me, this particular day was mostly for Lindsay’s benefit. And after watching her sit in silence and bliss with a baby in her arms, I can confidently tell you it was worth it. In the meantime, my newfound friend (whose name I can’t remember) and I played a rousing game of ‘take Pete’s hat off Ashby’s head and put it on Pete’s and then put it on his own and then back on Ashby’s’. He won every round.

Eventually I became aware that while babies always, always need love and affection, the reality is that there is a lot of behind-the-scenes work that needs to be done to run a children’s home, so I asked an employee if there was anything we could do to help them. She mentioned that after the kids went down for a nap, they’d be folding laundry and mopping floors, and that in the meantime, there were dishes to be washed if anyone was interested?

We were. Pete and I found the kitchen (leaving Keith to the mercy of several children who only reached his knees) and began washing cups, cups, sippy cups and more cups. This is notable because for one, do you see how selfless I was being here? not playing with babies when I could have been? does anyone feel my pain? And two, it is a rare man who will wash dishes in Kenya, and I think the workers at New Life were duly impressed. As Pete washed and I rinsed, I chatted with the woman whose station we had taken over. I was pleasantly surprised to find that she was a volunteer. It seems uncommon to me to find a Kenyan who is willing to work for free, and I’m not sure how they manage to survive in Nairobi without an income. But with a 50% unemployment rate, clearly a lot of them are managing somehow.

After a couple hours of baby play, dish washing, and a crash course in Diaper Folding 101, we say goodbye, collect our things and depart. Our next stop: lunch. Fairly uneventful, but Kimberly would like me to mention that her ice cream was disappointing.

I will spare you the details of the bus ride for the sake of brevity (key words: bumpy, crowded, confusing). The point is that we got to the Giraffe Center, and the REAL point is that we got to see, pet, feed and photograph giraffes to our hearts’ content.

The Giraffe Center lies on the outer edge of the Nairobi National Park. They have several acres reserved specifically to protect the Rothschild Giraffe- a breed which is endangered, and which slightly differentiates from its cousin, the reticulated giraffe. (The Rothschild’s spots are different.) For slightly less than $10, you can climb up a balcony until you are head level with a giraffe. You can feed it. You can pet it. You can take your picture with it. If you hold the food in your mouth, the giraffe will take it from your lips. But if you aren’t holding food, watch for head-butts.

I know I say this a lot, but this time I really mean it: this is one of my favourite places on earth. I don’t get tired of them. I don’t do a lot of touristy things while I’m in Nairobi. But there is something incredibly life giving and therapeutic about seeing a giraffe at such a short distance.

The center keeps one male, for breeding, and several females. Male babies are sent away when they are three. With us today were several hungry, impatient female giraffes, one bull, a few warthogs, and one tiny, tiny baby giraffe.

Like, four days old. Like, as tall as our friend Keith. (Who wants to give birth to something six feet tall? Raise your hand.)

After everyone had taken a turn feeding the giraffes, taking myriad pictures, walking around the grounds (there are a couple tortoises and a souvenir shop. Also for our viewing pleasure, a local kindergarten was making a field trip that day) we began to drift to various areas: Susan and Lindsay sat down at the café. Pete took a few too many pictures of turtles. Keith mooned over the love of his life, Daisy. And Angie, Kimberly and I hung out on the balcony.

With our arms dangling over the side, our heads angled absently toward a distant giraffe, and a cool breeze in our face, we reflect on the day. Our talk turns to animals, among them, the ‘big five’: the five quintessential game animals that everyone must see when on safari.

‘Giraffe...’ I think, ‘…and lions, for sure.’

‘Rhinos’, Angie adds.

Kimberly counts on her fingers: ‘Rhinos, lions, cheet-‘ I clutch her arm with the urgency of someone choking on a hot dog and shriek: ‘THE BABY IS MOVING!!!!!!!!’

You honestly would have thought my baby was moving; that I was 9.2 months pregnant and my water had broken, or that my newborn infant was about to fall into a pit of crocodiles. (NO. I’m NOT PREGNANT. Quit starting rumours.)

Angie, Kimberly and any other human with a camera frantically turned toward the infant giraffe and photographically documenting its every move. I’d started a digital riot. I didn’t even have my camera with me (the battery was dead, or something). I had already seen baby giraffes before. I hadn’t meant to cause such an uproar. I hadn’t meant to violently scream out about this groundbreaking news.

But in my defence, the baby was really, really cute.

(For the record, the big five are the rhino, lion, leopard, elephant and buffalo.)

a start.

2011-08-09T15:34:00.000-07:00

Wednesday, 13 July

we step off the plane. it's late. it's hot. it's so very African, even from here.

I've prepped everyone for this: for the long queue, for the visa-luggage-money sequence, for the muggy stickiness and the tiredness. I didn't prep them for my cranky exhaustion (though...they all know me, and praise God, they are all more patient than I am). nor did I anticipate my impulse to run ahead of everyone in order to hug Susan. they handled it like champs, though.

I told them about the taxi ride, the visa fee, the exchange rate. I didn't tell them a Somali family would try to cut in front of us, and that I would let them, and that the immigration officer would verbally harass them and that my mama bear instinct would kick in and that I would end up clenching my fists and gritting my teeth and trying not to yell, or cry. but my team- my friends, oh- seemed relatively unfazed by this. probably because they've met me before.

racism is alive and well in this tired, broken world, and it seems that it's best NOT to address it when you're running on no sleep, and when no one cares anyway.

I reconcile myself to the situation by this compromise: I politely cut the queue, greet the official in Swahili, and recommend he find a fellow employee and ask them to help with 'crowd control'. this seems, I point out, more effective than his trying to multi-task from behind his desk. (and by multitask I mean 'occasionally look up from his work to yell at the Somali man.) he politely ignores me. I politely step back into line. Kimberly and I pass the time by staring openly at the Somali woman's henna, which beautifully covers her arms and her feet. her husband is busy juggling visas and paperwork at the desk. her mother is standing by her side.

I project a lot, and I assume a lot of this family: that they are escaping from hell. that they are entering purgatory. that they will spend a lot of time being treated poorly here in Kenya.

make no mistake: Kenyans are a wonderfully accepting and hospitable people. there's good reason for me to feel so at home there. but Somalis, for whatever reason, seem to be destined to live a difficult life. I can only pray they are, somehow, someday, rewarded for their trials here.

but, oh, I digress.

after hours (okay, hour) in line, we finally go downstairs to get our luggage. and then we finally stand in line to change our money. and I finally can take it no more, and I leave my friends behind to rush outside and into Susan's arms.

people stare.

after everyone has changed money, we pile into two waiting taxis and head home. home, to Susan's apartment complex, where Lindsay and I will share 'my' room, and the other four members of our team- Angie and Kimberly, Pete and Keith- will share another apartment. we pay the taxis and make quick introductions and shove our luggage into respective living rooms and head to bed, because it is late, and because we've been traveling for 24 hours.

'you're great', Pete tells me. I assume he means, 'it's pretty fun to see you look so happy- happier than I've seen you in a really long time.'

ground: broken.

2011-07-22T05:30:00.001-07:00

Oh, but God has been good to us! He has graciously allowed us to take part in his work, and we couldn’t ask for better timing. In the past week God has graciously provided us with two contractors to choose from, we interviewed both and found each had qualities we were looking for. After some prayerful deliberation and seeking counsel with our board in the states we were able to select one and have monies wired from the states, so that we could sign a contract. This all took place in the matter of three days. The speed of turn-around would a feat even in the States. Here we are calling it a miracle.

Immediately our hosts and I began to plan a groundbreaking ceremony for the next day. A goat was selected and the soda was bought. The next day our team was DIGGING THE TRENCHES FOR THE FOOTINGS OF OUR FIRST HOME!!! The foundation and floor will be completed within the month.

Yesterday I stood on the VG property, surrounded by my American friends and my Kenyan family, as our pastor prayed over the area where our first house will be built. As I reflect on this, it seems so surreal that it really happened. You all helped make this happen. At times I get discouraged at how long it has taken to make my dream a reality, but I have been encouraged by the faithfulness of God and the generosity of you, my supporters. Please consider helping Visible Grace by donating to help keep the forward momentum going. We've come so far, and we are excited about where this is going.

For seven years, I have been visualizing about living in Kenya, standing on our property, drinking coffee in the mornings as I listen to the wonderful sounds of children who are blessed with a home, this is building is where that vision will first be fully realized.

Since 2008, when we bought this land, I have fallen asleep with dreams of a specific home, specific trees and hills and clouds and flowers. It's slowly but surely becoming a reality, and I have all of you to thank for it.

As always, celebrate the faithfulness of God and the goodness of his provision.

away we go

2011-07-12T00:54:00.001-07:00

Hello everyone! I am writing with really exciting news from Visible Grace!

This week, five of my friends will be traveling with me to Kenya for a two week visit! We are really excited about our trip. While we are there, we will be visiting with some of the families who are connected to our work, as well as visiting a few children's homes. Then,on Friday, July 22, we will be participating in a groundbreaking ceremony on our land! I am really excited about this opportunity- it has been a long journey, and I am more than ready to begin building and work toward providing homes for orphaned children. With two million orphans in Kenya, this cannot come soon enough!

As we begin building, we need to increase our fundraising efforts. Please consider donating to Visible Grace. Any amount you are able to give is helpful and brings us closer to our goal. (We will have a more accurate budget for our building when we get back.) Any donations can be made online using the links below, or mailed to Visible Grace: PO Box 91332, Portland, OR, 97291.

Please stay tuned for pictures and updates as we break ground in Kenya. This is an exciting time for us. For more information about our team and our trip, please visit our website (www.visiblegrace.org)- all new information can be found on the sidebar. You can also order a new Visible Grace t-shirt on our website (only $14!).

For the next two weeks I will be blogging at www.ashbyinkenya.blogspot.com. You can also check for updates on our facebook page: http://www.causes.com.

As always, please contact me if you have any questions. Thank you all for your continual support and involvement with Visible Grace!

Peace to you,

Ashby Rauch

helpful; adorable.

2011-06-30T19:49:00.001-07:00

VG shirts bring you bliss.

scroll down to this entry to order your bliss.

new t shirts!

2011-06-09T20:23:00.000-07:00

ONLY $14!!
Ladies S, M, L and XL in charcoal grey
Unisex S, M, L, XL and 2XL in charcoal grey

please specify what size you want...

sale: original VG t shirts

2011-06-08T00:14:00.001-07:00

we still have a handful of these t shirts...we are putting them on CLEARANCE. let me know if you want one!

Men's: $10
grey with red ink in S, M, L and XL
red with white ink in L and XL

Women's: $10 (THEY RUN SMALL)
brown with light blue ink in S (M, L and XL sold out!)
white with teal ink in L and XL (S and M sold out!)

Youth: $8
brown with blue ink in 6T
white with red ink in S, M and L
grey with red ink in S, M and L

PLEASE SPECIFY WHICH COLOUR AND SIZE YOU WOULD LIKE!

a raffle.

2011-05-29T17:38:00.000-07:00

If you help us spread the word about fundraising, or if you donate to VG, I will enter you in a raffle!

Prizes are as follows:

~$10 itunes gift card
~$10 starbucks card
~Kenyan jewelry (necklaces, bracelets, earrings)
~Visible Grace shirt (your choice of colour and style)

Post on your blog or on Facebook about our upcoming benefit concert or garage sale, or link to our video. All links are here:
(video)
(concert)
(garage sale)

and you can give to VG here

Please either leave a comment here, or on facebook (or tag me on FB) so that I know you did it...

and yes you can be entered more than once...

go!

still alive. mostly jet-lag free.

2011-03-17T16:50:00.000-07:00

I always intend to catch up on blogging once I get back to the States and I never do. in this particular case, I got home, got sick, threw a friend a baby shower, turned thirty and then drove my sister down to California. I do want to recap some happenings and stories and upload some pictures from my trip. I do. and I will. eventually.

in the meantime, a glimpse of Lake Victoria:

el-dee, el-dee, a wonderful town...

2011-03-04T08:53:00.000-08:00

so I'm sitting in a hotel room in Eldoret, trying to dump pictures onto my computer, and my heart is POUNDING: a huge huge cockroach crawled out of my suitcase and into- INTO, YOU GUYS- the bedspread of the bed next to mine.

freaking. a.

undoubtedly it traveled with us from Mbita, and. I mean. what if it, like, got into the clothes I put onto tomorrow? or something. EW EW EW EW EW.

okay. I'm sorry. I really do try to suck it up about bugs here but the thing is two inches long and NASTY. and crawled into the bedspread. what if- WHAT IF IT GOT ON YOU WHILE YOU WERE SLEEPING.

ahem. anyway. the point is, I am spending the night in Eldoret (and tomorrow I get to see my friend Gladys!) and heading back to Nairobi tomorrow. it's weird to think that 48 hours from now, Lord willing, I'll be waiting at the airport for my flight home. and here I am blogging from a hotel room on the other side of the country. and it's further weird that earlier today I was in a village in the middle of the Kenyan bush.

life happens faster here than the internet allows. I have lots of stories to tell (a few are even NOT about bugs), and over 1000 pictures taken since Monday. I'll try to get a few more posts in before I leave on Sunday- and maybe I'll catch up again when I get back to the US.

in the meantime I just wanted the internets to know that a) I'm alive and b) THAT COCKROACH IS REALLY HUGE. I MEAN REALLY.

Susan and me

2011-03-02T08:00:00.000-08:00

hooray for blackberries!

2011-03-02T02:29:00.000-08:00

long story short:
~used up all camera power at the wedding on Saturday
~sent Susan off to her honeymoon with my adapter so she could charge her camera
~planned to charge my camera when I got to Mbita, where my friends have adapters
~forgot I was going to the slums Monday morning to administer worm medicine
~found my blackberry in the bottom of my suitcase
~have a multi card reader which reads even the tiny tiny microcard on my blackberry!

so, here are a few of the faces I saw on Monday. again, thank you thank you for your generous donations. the kids were thankful and the teachers were REALLY thankful.

wiggles

2011-02-27T03:08:00.000-08:00

party

2011-02-27T03:06:00.000-08:00

cut

2011-02-27T03:03:00.000-08:00

sila

2011-02-27T03:00:00.000-08:00

sweet

2011-02-27T02:45:00.001-08:00

sweet

2011-02-27T02:45:00.000-08:00

gifted

2011-02-27T02:37:00.000-08:00

mama

2011-02-27T02:33:00.000-08:00

beckon

2011-02-27T02:20:00.000-08:00

weddings and worms

2011-02-24T12:36:00.000-08:00

Susan and I just compared notes on wedding preparations vs auction preparations and even though I downplayed my list she suggested my job is tougher and more stressful (as she pointed out, even though she doesn’t know who will show up on Saturday and how much they’ll give her, she’ll still achieve her goal).

Just saying.

Anywho- today I got a pedicure (for $4) and got my hair braided for the wedding (just cornrows in the front so I can leave the rest ‘open’- Susan, like the rest of the universe, loves my curls).

I also had lunch with a friend who works at the school I attended back in 2001- when I first came to Kenya. She and her husband have been in Kenya for maybe 20 years; she’s fluent in Swahili and genuinely loves these people.

At my request she gamely helped me search for this children’s centre I visited a few years ago. When Justin, Beth and Michael came to Kenya with me, we visited the centre. It is run entirely by Kenyans (no western influence; no western money!) and they have a nursery school for about 60 kids and then a feeding programme for kids coming from all over. They also have a clinic where they test people for HIV, and a shop where old women come once or twice a week and weave baskets, which they sell to support themselves, and to help with the kids. (Caylan, this is where your baskets are coming from!)

After saying goodbye to the kids I commented that several of them had worms and that I’d love to help them eradicate them. My friend pointed out that though it’s a seemingly easy solution, it still costs money- and the centre holds around 200 kids.

She’s right- though I am comparatively very wealthy here, and though the medicine is relatively inexpensive, I don’t have enough money to help these kids. It was a nice thought- right?

But then I got home, and started making dinner, while listening to Chris Tomlin, and thinking, and praying...

And, well- you (maybe) know what came next. I realised that I have several HUNDRED facebook friends, and that just about any of us have enough money to help at least a FEW kids.

So I ‘put it out there’, as they say- and wow. Within an hour or two, enough of my friends had donated to Visible Grace through facebook, to buy medicine for ALL two hundred kids.

The internet is amazing- and you people are generous.

I’ll be heading there on Monday to administer the medicine and take a ton of pictures.

What a blessing it will be for these kids, who can so quickly become malnourished because of parasites that enter their body- often through their feet- because they possibly can’t afford shoes. Or because they share a pit latrine with their neighbours. Or because of any other myriad reasons.

And though this is not a permanent solution, it is such an easy way to help.

Two hundred kids thank you.

brought to you by someone who is fiercely craving those gummy apple ring things

2011-02-23T12:30:00.000-08:00

Tonight when I got home, the power was out again. I lit candles and carried the laundry in from the lines. Then I made popcorn and settled down to watch a movie on my (partially charged) computer. And THEN I made dinner in the dark.

The second I finished cooking, the power came back on.

I have a few more things to write, but I’m going to save them until I can really think. This cold is still dragging on and it makes me feel crazy. And groggy.

Um. So in the meantime here are some thoughts, live from Ngong:
~They are paving the road from Ngong to Karen, which means the buses travel on the side of the road. It also means employment for an awful lot of people.
~They passed a new law that all buses have to carry garbage cans. I’ve yet to see anyone use them.
~I paid for my 6th bridesmaid dress yesterday. (I will probably eventually set a record, and no, ’27 dresses’ doesn’t count.)
~I also bought shoes.
~I really, really don’t understand who started this rumour that roosters crow at dawn. They crow ALL NIGHT LONG.
~I figured out how to control the weather: if I carry my umbrella, it doesn’t rain. If I forget it, it does. Works every time.
~Susan is walking down the aisle to Celine Dion and I am reading from 1 Corinthians. Anyone care to guess which chapter?

formerly known as Bonapet Cafe

2011-02-21T04:13:00.000-08:00

pastor and flower girls

2011-02-21T03:54:00.000-08:00

Sunday: sabbath

2011-02-21T03:48:00.000-08:00

this is what I mean by dubious scaffolding

2011-02-21T03:42:00.000-08:00

emo, as usual.

2011-02-20T11:24:00.000-08:00

So much to write about.

A truncated list:
~The wedding rehearsal/dinner today;
~Adventures on the bus;
~Kenya’s capitalistic economy and socialistic culture

But today: me.

This morning I felt icky. I am nursing a cold, and though I woke up in time, I didn’t feel like rushing to get ready, rushing to catch a bus, rushing to church, greeting a million people, and sitting upright in a pew for 2+ hours. Plus, the wedding rehearsal was this afternoon, which I knew would take patience and energy, and I didn’t want to use up any I had left before I got there.

So I stayed home, and read my book, and my bible, and played a game on my computer, and read emails.

And then I only had 5 hours to kill before the rehearsal.

And suddenly I panicked. What was I doing? Why was I wasting a perfectly beautiful, sunny day inside? (the problem was that I stayed home last night, too, dozing and watching tv all evening. I could tell my cold is getting better based on how restless I felt.)

And this feeling of discontent quickly led to boredom which led to loneliness which led to despair: what was I DOING here? Why was I in Kenya in the first place? And what on earth made me think I could start a children’s home, anyway? And why in the world did anyone ELSE think so?!

Yeah- I know I’m crazy. Get used to it.

I was impatiently pacing my bedroom when it occurred to me: pray. So I tried, ‘okay…HELP.’ And ‘God, I’m so lonely. Um..help.’ and several other sentences that ended in ‘help, okay?’

And then I took a shower.

And within seconds I felt so lifted, so encouraged and comforted by our Counselor, our Helper- GOD is in charge. God knows. He’s been there; he’s been sick, and lonely, and discouraged and overwhelmed before, too.

I can’t even put into words the calming effect God had on my heart this morning: I went from total panicked disarray to peaceful, encouraged empowerment:

I am not alone.

Also, I took pictures today. I’ll post them tomorrow, I promise*.

*by promise, I mean, if the Lord wills, and I live, and the internet cooperates.

it took me four tries to stay logged on long enough to post this, AND, my dashboard is currently in French.

2011-02-18T11:29:00.000-08:00

Tonight while she is washing her hands, Susan tells me suddenly that when she was in grade school, she and all of her friends wanted to be doctors. She sticks her head into my room and as she dries her hands on my towel she says, ‘we thought it would be the easiest course.’ I smile and share the memory that jumps into my mind: all of my kids (who I was teaching) back in the village wanted to be pilots. I can remember this day particularly clearly, out of a whole month of ‘all about us’. I vividly picture each child standing next to me, leaning forward, hands cupped around their mouths, whispering these secrets that deserve upmost security:

‘Teacher, I want to be a pilot.’

‘I want to be a- a pilot.’

‘Teacher, I want…I want to be a pilot.’

And on and on: pilot, pilot, preacher, president, pilot. You would have thought it was ‘P’ week.

As I am talking to Susan my eyes without warning are flooded with tears. Oh, nothing’s wrong- I just miss, so badly, those sweet, long, hot sticky days in the classroom, hour after hour, patiently repeating myself in English, settling arguments, cleaning up messes, listening to long diatribes in multiple languages, handing out gluesticks and safety scissors and pieces of chalk. Reading books and singing songs. Playing football. Walking home with three, four or five children clinging to my hands, my fingers, my wrist, my arm.

I don’t really miss living in the village- it was too sheltered; I felt like I was suffocating. But I miss teaching, I miss feeling like I was doing something effective and useful and good.

And I’m tired.

I’m tired of fundraising and worrying about networking, worrying about the impression I’m making. I’m tired of spreadsheets and phone calls and emails and numbers and plans and details. I’m tired of thinking about money and tired of trying to find ways to entertain white adults and convince them to trust me, to trust this crazy idea.

But more than that, I’m tired of not doing the job I love. I want to spend long hot summer days counting, over and over again, to a hundred, in English, now in Swahili, now by even numbers, now by tens. I want to listen to stories that end in ‘and that is the end of my story.’ I want to work with children who so desperately need shelter, love, security and an education. I want to hold their hands. I want to know them.

I want to be so busy, so exhausted that at the end of the day I barely have time to check my email, let alone write this blog.

(I’m not looking for ‘you’re almost there! etc’ comments, though you, my dear friends, are always an encouragement to me. I’m just…thinking.)

Monday, rainy Monday

2011-02-17T10:44:00.001-08:00

On Monday it rains, and I mean RAINS. I hear it while I am inside a store- it covers the ceiling until I can’t hear myself think, and I know I won’t be getting a matatu home. It’s difficult to catch a matatu during rush hour, and impossible during rush hour in the rain. I have timed my errands so that I’ll be home before dark, but now I know it won’t happen, and getting home after sundown is bad enough, let alone when it’s raining.

So I call a taxi. There are plethora taxis at any major junction and they love love LOVE to ask white people if they need a taxi (I rarely do), but I opt to call my friend Mburu, who has faithfully carried me to and from the airport for several years now, and has bailed me out of a tight spot a few times as well (such as getting home after dark, in the rain). I’d rather give my money to him, since I trust him, he is reliable and respectful, and Susan trusts him: the final test.

While waiting for him I duck into a café and drink a coffee and read my book. After several minutes I hear, ‘happy valentines, Ash-bye’ and look up to see Mburu, in an Arsenol t shirt, grey slacks and rainboots, offering his hand to me. He explained that a customer got his phone wet, so he couldn’t call me to tell me he was here, so he had to come inside to find me. I had forgotten until now that it is February 14th, and his greeting is the first valentine I’ve received. I pay for my coffee and we walk outside to his car, which is tightly parked in a suspect parking lot. I wait in the rain as he backs his car out and get in on the left side. (It always takes me a few days to adjust, both here and back in OR, to getting in on the left side when I’m a passenger. I also look the wrong way when I’m crossing the street. Mostly in Portland.)

We head home slowly, in the pouring rain and bumper to bumper traffic. I’m tired, and my head hurts, I think from the pressure and weather change. We chat, a bit, mostly about his phone, which he holds in front of the car’s heater. Apparently a customer set their umbrella on the arm rest and left a puddle which later preyed upon his phone. I try to explain that he should remove the battery and place his phone in a bowl of uncooked rice, but this madness is lost in translation and I doubt he’ll try it.

He asks if I’d mind his picking up a friend, who lives along the way, and taking her home, also along the way. Of course I don’t mind. After we pick up the woman and drop her off again, Mburu pulls back onto the road, commenting, ‘just you and me on this Valentine’s evening!’ He is just about the only man in Kenya who could say that to me without making me uncomfortable. I think of my mama, whose birthday is today, and I remember my first trip to Kenya: my friend Jedediah gave me a valentine’s day card covered in copious hearts and glitter. I probably still have that card somewhere. I may be something of a packrat.

When we finally get to my apartment I have to dash upstairs to grab my money, nestled cliché-ly in my sock drawer. Susan laughs as I burst into the house: there’s no power; the rain has washed out the line. Again. I use the light on my cell phone to find my room, then to find my money, then to find my way back downstairs to pay Mburu. He is blessed and thankful by my payment; I am a bit poorer but thankful to be home safe and sound. And dry.

Back upstairs, Susan wonders what to do. She has lit two candles which offer feeble light in our cavernous living room. I cook dinner (spaghetti) by the light of my cell phone and laugh: this seems to me an unconventional way of providing light in a developing country. I remember that my computer is fully charged, and so while we eat our food we watch several episodes of Community.

This, I think, is not what people expect when they think of living in Africa: spaghetti, cell phones, laptops and TV during a blackout.

addendum: Ngong

2011-02-15T09:24:00.000-08:00

the cafe burned down last night. the street boys and Maasai mamas have been relocated, and you can't buy chips.

adjust your plans accordingly.

just the view from our kitchen; no big deal

2011-02-14T03:53:00.000-08:00

just your average Friday night shenanigans

2011-02-14T03:49:00.000-08:00

my youngest brother, Leonard Kamugu

2011-02-14T03:42:00.000-08:00

kanono2

2011-02-14T03:37:00.000-08:00

George Kimani, age 12.

2011-02-14T03:28:00.001-08:00

FINE. one at a time.

2011-02-14T03:08:00.000-08:00

ngong means 'knuckles'

2011-02-13T07:24:00.000-08:00

Okay: Ngong. I love this crazy town, but it is virtually indescribable.

We’ll start at my apartment. Lock the door behind you and double check the padlock. Cross the courtyard and say hi to the guard and the construction workers who stand on dubious scaffolding with their arms elbow deep in wet cement. When you reach the road, look right first, then left. Wait patiently by the side of the road until a matatu comes.

Ngong is a ten minute drive from our apartment: 20 shillings. The noise in the matatu ranges from crying babies to reggae music to loud young men to chattering Kikuyu women. Ignore them; read your book.

When you reach Ngong you will find almost anything imaginable. First and foremost, pedestrians. Seemingly thousands, and yet it’s still difficult to cross the street- avoid trucks, matatus, cars, cows and motorbikes.

Here are the street vendors: every day is like an enormous garage sale; Wednesday and Saturdays are market days.

First you approach a table stacked high with mangoes and tomatoes. Next to that is a small barbeque where a man fans a newspaper over some ears of corn. You can buy half an ear and add lemon juice and chili pepper for an inexpensive snack. Behind this man is a small kiosk where you can buy bottled water, chewing gum, chocolate bars, donuts and batteries. Next to him is a man who will polish your shoes.

Pass the woman selling key chains and the man selling boiled eggs and sausages. As you walk further down into town- stay to the side of the tarmac; walk in the dusty path- you will be greeted by nearly everyone. Some actually know you, most recognize you and all want to say hi to the visitor. Pass the taxi park and say hi to Mburu and Njane, if they are there. Politely refuse the offer for a ride home. Some older Maasai women sit to the side, next to the café, bent over their beadwork. Greet them, but don’t buy anything, not yet.

You can wait here, at the café, or pop in and order fries, or talk to the street boys who hover outside, or visit your friend Christine, whose shop is next door. You can go to the bank or you can check your email. You can stop to buy a paper, and from the same kiosk, a pirated DVD. Behind the newspaper stand is the shop where we buy fresh cow’s milk when we forget to stop home and get some from Mama Susan.

In the market square you can buy fabric, or shoes, or used clothing, or towels, or beans, or tea, or rice or papaya. The butcher is here, and the supermarket. You can fix your cell phone or your car or your bike. You can order furniture or buy an umbrella. This is the center of town, where you can choose between a variety of buses or matatus which will take you home, or to town. Or anywhere, really. Ignore the shouting and the pressure to get on the nearest bus. Choose the one that has a seat by the window, and will likely fill soon.

Make your purchases, greet anyone who recognizes you but don’t give out any information. Walk further into the market if you want something like cilantro or masala. Buy a grocery bag from a street boy. Catch a bus home.

Watch for goats and donkeys.

yeah, pictures are not happening today.

2011-02-12T08:41:00.000-08:00

one: a pretty landscape.

two: kim blowing out candles on his cake.

three: other kim blowing on his noisemaking party favour.

four: my new PUPPY!

close your eyes and imagine it. (just kidding- I'll post them Monday from a faster connection. hopefully.)

fingers crossed?

2011-02-12T08:40:00.000-08:00

today: lay around, read my book, have lunch with my friend Jen, buy a new phone, shake my fist at the internet, attempt to upload pictures.

we'll see.

Marie Antoinette, and whatnot.

2011-02-11T09:25:00.000-08:00

Okay: I’m exhausted and the internet is driving me batty. But I am determined to at least TRY to blog every day, which means not giving up on day three. Right?

Today is Susan’s nephew Kim’s twelfth birthday. (It took me three tries to spell ‘twelfth’. That is a really weird word.) This morning I went to the American supermarket (again!) to buy a cake, some candles, some noisemakers (you’re welcome, Kenyan mothers everywhere!) and some chips and juice. Total: about $10; $12 if you include bus fare.

Worth it. Pictures tomorrow.

suprisingly efficient for such an inefficient town.

2011-02-10T09:30:00.001-08:00

On Wednesday, we go to Nairobi- Susan, Willie and I. We leave around 9 and pack into a crowded matatu which winds its way slowly toward Ngong town. Under the influence of their British colonizers, Kenyans drive on the left side of the road, but in general this is loosely maintained. We weave to the right side to overtake another bus, then back to the left when faced by an oncoming vehicle; right again to avoid a pothole the size of a swimming pool, then left when an elderly man wants to get off. The driver snaps at him when he doesn’t move quickly enough and Susan scolds the driver in Swahili for treating an old man so poorly (there’s a reason we are friends).

The roads are dusty and dry: Susan says it hasn’t rained since October. I’m very, very grateful for the warm weather, and I’ve had more than my share of rain lately. Still, out of guilt, I vow to say a prayer for those who are suffering from drought every time I benefit from or enjoy the sunshine.

The bus stops briefly at the junction near Susan’s mother’s home and we meet her brother, who reaches into the vehicle to shake my hand and then to grab a package from Susan: he is traveling to their home village today to deliver wedding invitations to family. He is wearing a Visible Grace t shirt.

In Ngong town we disperse briefly. Willie meets his aunt to deliver still more wedding announcements while Susan and I check our emails at a nearby cyber café. Then we board another bus which will take us into Nairobi town.

Nairobi is crowded and its population grows daily. The slum dwellers on the outskirts of the town suffer exponentially more as the city becomes more and more westernized: last week a fire drove some thousand people from their homes, and as bus fare increases they are forced to walk the several miles into town in the hopes of finding daily jobs.

We reach downtown by eleven and divide again; we have about a thousand errands to run and very limited time. Willie pursues insurance of some sort while Susan and I pursue bank papers of some sort: this consists of first going to the bank to retrieve a form, then to our friend – and Visible Grace treasurer- Peris’s office to obtain her signature, then back to the bank to deliver said signature and request VG bank statements, then back to Peris’s office: she will compile our annual report.
From there we reconnect with Willie, who buys us lunch, then Susan and Willie apply for a marriage license, then order wedding rings. Then Willie disappears again and Susan takes me to the bridal shop to get my measurements for my dress. At some point Susan and I duck into a shoe store to buy me some basic black flats- my sandals are killing me and I have a blister on my toe. At this point we board a bus to go home. I head to the American grocery store to buy cheese, coffee and face wash; Susan and Wilson head to their pastor’s office for pre-marriage counseling.

These small, trivial events bring me alive. I love Nairobi, love the hustle and bustle and noise and crowds and grime. It’s been a long day. I’m still fighting jet lag and I’m exhausted. I get home shortly after 7 and keep my eyes open just long enough to make a small bowl of pasta. I’m in bed and asleep long before Susan gets home from counseling.

a goal: daily blogging.

2011-02-09T09:37:00.003-08:00

Okay, so I resolved yesterday to blog every day while I am here in an effort to see Kenya through new, ‘visity’ eyes- I want to be a good hostess and team leader when and if I bring people here. It’s hard to tell people what to expect when I am as familiar with Kenya as I am with the back of my hand (a phrase that has never really made a lot of sense to me- sort of like Kenya, so it’s actually perfect).

Anywho- the problem with blogging every day is that I have to actually blog every day. I have to find a good, solid internet connection and the time to write everything down. And I have to come up with things to say.

I think I will start with that tomorrow.

I am currently cooking dinner (pasta) and drinking coffee (instant) and listening to Bon Iver (Blood Bank). Susan and Willie are at pre-marriage counseling, which today consists of dinner with their pastor. I am going to watch tv and knit. We went to Nairobi today, which was an 11 hour ordeal, and which will be described in detail tomorrow.

laundry.

2010-06-29T05:50:00.000-07:00

is thoroughly exhausting. but when you're done and your clothes are on the line- it's inexplicably satisfying.

what I did this weekend.

2010-06-29T05:32:00.000-07:00

looked at this. and hung out with friends. and ate french fries.

fundraiser: I really, really want to start building

2010-06-24T08:14:00.000-07:00

Check this out- a really, really easy way to a) save money and b) help us RAISE money. Please take a minute to sign up for these coupons. Make sure you enter our code, Grace316. Then blog/facebook/email it to your friends. Please?

Dear Supporters of Visible Grace,

We are launching a new and unique fund-raising campaign and we need your help. mobba’s Daily Deal is an online service that offers discounts from local restaurants, theaters and retailers. When they enter a new market they offer to donate to local charities that help get the word out.

When you click http://www.mobba.com/portland/gorefersub.aspx?bref=Grace316 and sign up, mobba’s Daily Deal will donate $2 to Visible Grace.

If you live in Eugene click on http://www.mobba.com/eugene/gorefersub.aspx?bref=Grace316.

It cost nothing and takes about 30 seconds. You don’t have to buy anything and can opt out at any time, but we hope you’ll take advantage of their service, just like you would any of our supporters.

So sign up today and pass this link along to friends, family and co-workers in the Eugene/Springfield or Portland Metro areas. Be sure to include this link or our referral code, Grace316.

If 50 people pass this link along to 10 supporters who pass it along to 5 supporters, we can easily surpass our campaign goal of $2,000.

God bless you and thank you for your support of Visible Grace!

LET'S GO!

2010-06-22T09:41:00.000-07:00

we have building permits! we have building permits! I repeat: Visible Grace has been giving permission to build on our land!!!

clearly, I find this disappointing.

props to Susan for her persistence in dealing with the local government.

our goal is to start with one three bedroom home, start a small 'family' of orphaned children, and then build and expand from there.

what this means:

WE NEED MONEY.

our first building will cost about $25,000.

want to help? the best place to give is through our facebook cause:
http://www.causes.com/causes/105908?m=4d513973

this is how we learn how to live

2010-06-21T08:47:00.001-07:00

There are at least a kajillion of us packed in this matatu, barreling down Ngong Road toward Karen, reggae music blaring in our ears, the driver fearlessly maneuvering the potholes, when we run out of gas and chug to a stop. I lean my head back against the seat and wait. There’s nothing else to do, anyway. I’ve temporarily escaped, my only task to develop some pictures to take to our caretaker on Wednesday.

Sunday. Rest. This morning Susan and I didn’t go to church. Instead, we showered and dressed and skipped breakfast and called a motorcycle taxi and climbed on the back of the bike and rode up, up, up the hill, to the home of a woman whose husband died last week. Every day since his death, people have gathered at their home to pay their respects and prepare for the burial.

Today we are making lunch for the church, who will come after the morning service to pray for the bereaved. We have our work cut out for us. Food from scratch takes a lot of time and energy. I sit in a circle with a dozen other women and we sort through rice to remove stones. We peel carrots and potatoes, we wash tomatoes and we cut onions. We pick kale from the garden and remove the bugs and the stems. We shell peas and husk corn and sort beans.

This is the closest I will ever come to camping in Kenya. A huge pot sits over an open fire. Our clothes, hair and skin smells of smoke. Cups of tea are passed around. A group of women wash dishes in large, plastic basins. Visitors walk past, offering greetings and culinary advice. This is community at its best.

A few years ago I was given the Kikuyu name Nyakio, which means ‘someone who is hardworking’. I was named at a party at someone’s house, when I sat in the yard with the other women and washed dishes after the meal. Apparently visitors sit in the sitting rooms, and they don’t offer to clear the table when they are finished. My mother would kill me if I behaved like that. Within my group of wonderful servant-hearted friends back in Oregon, I am far from the hardest working. But apparently my gift of adapting quickly to foreign cultures translates to ‘being willing to jump in and join people in what they are doing’.

I’m not sure I would be comfortable doing anything else.

sunset on Lake Victoria

2010-06-21T03:34:00.000-07:00

would you be more impressed by the quality of this photo if I told you I took it from the back of a motorcycle?

in which Ashby does not get along with the internet connection in Kenya.

2010-06-13T05:57:00.000-07:00

(a thousand points to anyone who recognises which author I'm emulating in my subject title.)

three part update, including GOOD NEWS about building permits, and GREAT news about money : )

'round and 'round we go
this past week I've been traveling.

I left last Monday for Eldoret, where I spent several days with my good friends the Ollimos, who I lived with/spent time with/taught with in Mbita in '03 and '04. it was wonderful to see them and to relax in their extremely welcoming home. (I just spent twenty minutes trying to upload a picture and then blogger told me it was unable to complete my request. use your imagination. they're very pretty.)

on Wednesday I was able to visit Open Arms International, who have built a children's village here in Eldoret. they share a very similar philosophy to ours, and it was wonderful to get to see what they are doing and to interrogate the staff about their building/developing strategy. (we shared a common weariness toward the government here.)

after battling with Kajiado yet again (more on that later), Susan was able to join me in Eldoret on Thursday.

on Saturday we left for Kisumu, a town about 3 hours south of Eldoret, nestled snuggly on the shores of Lake Victoria.
Kenya is looking green these days, and the views from our buses and shuttles are breathtaking. I cannot describe it, and my camera does little to transcribe the layers upons layers of hills and valleys overlooking Mount Elgon and the Great Rift Valley.

here in Kisumu we are visiting one of our mutual friends, who recently moved here from Nairobi. it's been great to chat with her and to show Susan around Luoland.

tomorrow we are headed to Mbita, the village where I taught kindergarten. my little babies are in 5th and 6th grade by now. or is it 6th and 7th? I am looking forward to seeing all my friends and I am looking forward to introducing them to Susan.

and now...

BUILDING PERMITS
Susan has one final trip to Kajiado (after we get back from Mbita), but other than that, we are basically set to start building!
of course, this means:
a) we need money
b) we need people
so we're not really ready yet. the VG bank account isn't quite where it should be- we need about $15,000 to finish our first (three bedroom) home. and we need to make sure we've hired the best possible contractor and staff. but we're close, so, so close.

PLEASE join us in prayer- that things go smoothly as we approach groundbreaking! we are so excited that our dream is so close to fruition.

and PLEASE, if you are able, donate to Visible Grace and help us reach our goal!

which brings me to part three:

fundraising opportunity
if you follow us on Facebook, you've probably already heard, but we have a new and very simple fundraiser going on- and it benefits YOU!

here's the email we've been sending out- please take a minute to read, and pass it on, and sign up. please. we need money!

We are launching a new and unique fund-raising campaign and we need your help. mobba’s Daily Deal is an online service that offers discounts from local restaurants, theaters and retailers. When they enter a new market they offer to donate to local charities that help get the word out.

When you click http://www.mobba.com/portland/gorefer... and sign up, mobba’s Daily Deal will donate $2 to Visible Grace.

If you live in Eugene click on http://www.mobba.com/eugene/gorefersu....

It cost nothing and takes about 30 seconds. You don’t have to buy anything and can opt out at any time, but we hope you’ll take advantage of their service, just like you would any of our supporters.

So sign up today and pass this link along to friends, family and co-workers in the Eugene/Springfield or Portland Metro areas. Be sure to include this link or our referral code, Grace316.

If 50 people pass this link along to 10 supporters who pass it along to 5 supporters, we can easily surpass our campaign goal of $2,000.

God bless you and thank you for your support of Visible Grace!

hope you are all well. thanks for your continual support and prayer.
Ashby

slums

2010-05-26T13:02:00.000-07:00

hygiene

2010-05-26T12:45:00.000-07:00

nilipika chapati

2010-05-26T12:26:00.000-07:00

I am getting pretty good at making Kenyan food.

Adhiambo

2010-05-25T05:23:00.000-07:00

balancing groceries on my head like a good Luo.

playground

2010-05-25T05:17:00.000-07:00

Jon and his bffs, Gesh and Kinyanjui

videographer

2010-05-25T05:08:00.000-07:00

Chad and his entourage in the slums

loooooooong day

2010-05-22T11:16:00.001-07:00

it's difficult to describe just how exhausting Kenya can be: first of all, the equatorial sun; then, the amount of walking; then there is the public transportation, the fishbowl phenomenon (we are shouted at/greeted/noticed wherever we go) and the culture shock. today was a long day, any way you look at it; we're all exhausted and ready for a lazy Sunday.

walking through the slums can be downright overwhelming. you feel pity. helplessness. physical, mental, spiritual exhaustion.

shopping at Maasai Market is almost as exhausting (for me). I hate saying 'no' to anyone and I am apparently incapable of tuning people out: every time someone asks me if I want to buy one of their crafts/gifts, I feel personally responsible to talk to them and view their merchandise. I'm learning, but it's still a lot.

we were all out in the sun for far, far too long today and are each nursing a sunburn (even though we put on sunscreen!) on top of that, Jon has laryngitis (did you know that was even a real disease?), Chad has a sinus infection, and I have a headache (I didn't have any coffee or tea this morning).

but we're good. we're thankful that we have enough money to buy groceries for those in the slums. thankful we could partake in a greasy, spicy lunch between tasks. thankful that we can afford to buy gifts and souvenirs for our loved ones and very, very grateful that we have safe, secure, cozy homes to rest in tonight.

Ashby and Nicole

2010-05-20T07:57:00.000-07:00

we took Nicole and her brother to the giraffe center- we are sure it was their first time to see giraffe, let alone pet and feed them!

VisiGraceland

2010-05-20T07:44:00.000-07:00

Susan and our caretaker, Bernard, standing outside his 'kitchen' (with his garden in the background!)

me, in my element

2010-05-20T07:40:00.000-07:00

a glimpse

2010-05-20T07:32:00.000-07:00

Chad, myself, Daisy and Jon at the giraffe park!

over the river and through the woods, to VisiGraceland we go...

2010-05-20T04:12:00.000-07:00

yesterday, Jon, Chad, Susan, Baba Njoroge and I went to visit our land! I was very, VERY excited to show Jon and Chad our property, and they were duly impressed. it is so exciting every time I set foot on our property and realise that it's OURS (yours!) and that our dream is coming to fruition. God has been very, very good to us.

we interviewed Susan, our caretaker Bernard, and I also gave the video camera a tour of the land. I am looking forward to watching the video when it's all put together- Jon and Chad have gotten some great footage.

they (Jon and Chad) have been incredible. they've been thrown headfirst into a completely foreign culture with a very steep learning curve (13 days is not very long for a trip like this) and they've been very gracious about everything.

I can't believe I've only been here a few weeks- I feel like I'm settled in for good.

Saturday we are visiting some slums (the slums 'our' kids live in) and then going souvenir shopping! woohoo!

more later-

Ashby

oh PS...still making SLOW SLOW SLOW headway on the building permits...please keep it in your prayers!

tourism

2010-05-16T09:31:00.000-07:00

Jon and Chad arrived a few days ago. yesterday I took them to my favourite place on earth- the giraffe center. you can feed the giraffe, take pictures with them, and learn about the endangered... (species? family? genus?) of giraffe- the Rothschild.

today we went to church, ate lunch and went to my friend Tony's birthday party. it is amazing how only two or three small errands can consume an entire day.

this week we'll begin shooting for the Visible Grace video. we'll be interviewing our board and some of my friends, we'll go to the VG property and take a tour and my friend Christine will be taking us into the slums of Ngong to meet some of her friends.

it's been a wonderful few days. I'm learning a lot about how to prep for American visitors, and what to expect when they're here.

tomorrow Susan is going to the ministry of lands to dole out various payments and taxes to apply toward our building permits. keep that in your prayers!

(and...the picture is taking TOO LONG to upload. pictures later!)

general update

2010-05-13T03:54:00.000-07:00

So, I'm here and everything. In Kenya, I mean. I've been trying to blog more, but a) the power keeps going out and b) the internet has been really slow and c) I can't think of anything interesting to say.

My friends Jon and Chad arrive in Kenya this evening. They will spend the next 13 days shooting video of just about everything, so that they can make a promotional video for Visible Grace. I'm pretty excited about it; they are donating their time and this video should be really valuable to our fundraising. I'm also excited to spend time showing them around Nairobi. (Side note, they have only raised about half the funds for their plane tickets to get here. If you're interested in donating even a small amount, email me, mail us a check or donate on Facebook. Thank you!)

I wrote on Twitter a few days ago that Susan and I were on our way to pay an application fee for building permits. The situation is actually (surprisingly) a lot more complicated than that. You can either rest easy in the knowledge that we're working on it, or you can read the full thing on my blog. Here we go:

Monday (US time), Nathan wired us the money to pay NEMA (National Environment Management Authority) sundry fees for, ah, I don't remember what all they are for, but they are legit, official costs, NOT bribes. Susan and I went to town (when I say 'town' I mean downtown Nairobi) on Wednesday to visit the bank and get paperwork. We realised two things: one, our treasurer, Peris, had gone out of town for a family funeral, and two, our bank here is charging us fees twice for every transaction we make. No thank you.

We collected information from a couple other banks so that we can discuss switching banks at our next board meeting. Then we headed home. We talked to the Mr Muigiri (heretofore referred to as Nema Guy) about meeting him to go to the ministry of lands and paying the fees. And we called Peris.

Susan is meeting Peris tomorrow to sign the paperworks and get almost $2000 in cash from the bank. On Monday, she will meet Nema Guy in Ngong and he will drive her (in his car! woohoo!) to the ministry of lands office (about an hour south of our land) to pay the various fees. What I do during these times depends on how my jet lagged videographers are feeling.

ALLEGEDLY, after paying these fees, NEMA will give us an official report declaring our property fit to be built upon. We can file this report with the ministry of lands and then supposedly we will have our building permits in thirty days.

I'm torn quite equally between hoping hoping hoping that this actually happens (because I'll be around, see?) and knowing it's going to take so much more time, money, patience and heartache than this.

So. We'll see. Today, I'm in my fave coffee shop (coffee AND WIRELESS INTERNET. The power keeps going out just to make sure I remember where I am), blogging, paying a couple bills online, researching for my health and nutrition seminar, which is coming up in June. (More on that later.) (Ha, I find it funny that Simon and Garfunkel's 'America' came on my ipod just as I wrote that.) This weekend, I'll be dragging Jon and Chad around, trying to acclimate them to this time zone and to this crazy, crazy culture. Next week, we'll be visiting, oh, a million places, taking video of anything and everything. This, and the waiting, constitutes my life for the next few days.

Oh, the waiting. and waiting. and waiting.

Keep VG in your prayers!

Mary Poppins

2010-05-09T07:59:00.000-07:00

I always keep a lot of stuff in my purse- babysitting supplies, VG stuff, knitting or a book (in case I have 'free time'), inhalor, eyedrops, contact case, source of protein (I'm apparently really high maintenance, physically).

When I'm in Kenya my purse certainly doesn't get any lighter, but it gets more specific: hand sanitizer. tissue paper. sunscreen, camera. Really, I'm ready for anything. I get a lot of crap for my purse, both here and in the US. But I like to be prepared.

So yesterday when I stopped by a friend's house to meet her new baby (and play with her two year old) and she informed me that I would not actually be going home but would in fact be spending the night with her, I mentally ran through the things I had with me:

toothbrush (always)
eyedrops
contact case
allergy medicine
etc

and realised I was ready to go. I didn't need a single thing. Finally, my bag of tricks was to be put to good use.

Which was really good news, because their two year old is extremely awesome.

the morning report

2010-05-07T05:52:00.000-07:00

When people ask me what Kenya looks like, I refer them to the Lion King.

In particular, the ten acres of land owned by Visible Grace look like they were lifted directly from the (cartoon) set. Wide, flat expanses of tough, dry grass. Acacia trees marking the horizon. Broad strokes of white clouds across an enormous blue sky. Singing hippopotamuses.

Um...yeah, so the point is, 'the morning report' is (catchy, sticky) song from the Lion King. Also, I decided to try and articulate what a typical morning in Kenya is like.

ahem.

This morning I woke up at 5. 5 AM. It was disgusting. (Side note: I've been practicing trying to guess the time based on the quality of light that comes in the windows. I have a clock, but I feel like an internal clock is a good skill to hone. So far I've been within the hour, which is no small task when you wake up after traveling for 28 hours and you're not even sure what day it is.)

5am in Kenya is much louder than it ought to be. For one thing, the birds are awake. Very awake. For another, the first run of buses is barreling down the main road, honking their horns to make sure we are all aware that There Is A Bus Here.

We are aware. Very aware.

When I lived in Mbita (the village on Lake Victoria where I taught kindergarten in 2003 and 2004), I had a ridiculous sleeping schedule. I was violently allergic to one single flower that grew there, for one thing. For another, we slept with the windows open (it was HOT) so the hippos, monkeys, birds et alia woke me up whenever they damn well pleased. (Like: 3am.)

In Mbita I'd usually crawl out of bed and read, or hop online (the line was faster then?) or lie in bed and think about how many hours I had left before I had to head to school. Somehow I stayed in one piece even on 4, 5 or 6 hours of sleep (and teaching, in case you were wondering, expends a LOT of energy!) Generally, once I was up, I was up. So: I kept weird hours in the village.

But in Nairobi I usually sleep pretty well. Sure, there's the usual bout of jet lag (two years ago, I would pass out at like 6pm every night for the first week. and then of course be wide awake at, you know, 11pm). But once I've acclimated I actually sleep better than I do in Portland. Which is lovely.

But this morning I couldn't sleep. I was UP. Like more awake then I thought was physically possible for such an inappropriate time of day.

Susan recently moved into a one-bedroom flat to save money. This puts a damper on my usual schedule of reading in bed and...well that's just about the only hindrance I can think of. Point is- this morning once I knew I was Officially Up (as in, not falling back asleep anytime soon) I grabbed my phone, my Bible, my book and a shawl, crawled over Sound Asleep Susan, shuffled into my slippers and tiptoed out of the room.

Morning: it smells different here. I can't put my finger on it. Almost-rain in the air. Charcoal fires. Then the deafening silence that comes with country life- birds, cows, goats.

First, like a good African, I made tea. Bring water to boil. Bring milk to boil. Add tea leaves. Stir. Susan has a gas stove, which is nice. (I've often said life in Africa is similar to going camping. The water and cooking sources in particular. Also, the pervasiveness of mud when it rains.)

I settle onto the couch with my book and a cup of tea but then I decide to check on our laundry, which we hung outside yesterday to dry, and see how it's doing.

How it's doing is getting rained on. Not any heavy rain that will go anywhere but a light, dusting mist that I never knew was possible here. Just enough- just barely enough- to keep our clothes damp.

I lean over the guard rail on our balcony, squinting into the dawn-ish light, staring at the road in front of me and trying to see Kenya the way I would if this was my first trip here:

tarmacked road
dust-coloured tarps covering aluminum kiosks
stalks of maize
muddy side roads
buses
chickens
tin roofs
laundry, everywhere (a clothesline extending from every building)

Soon, the road will be full of children walking to school (mismatched uniforms indicate public school; buses indicate private), people heading to work, trucks carrying who-knows-what, and bus conductors yelling at EVERYONE.

But for now it's relatively people-free. Only the birds and myself are awake.

new Visible Grace newsletter- Ashby is headed to Kenya!

2010-04-29T13:54:00.000-07:00

Off she goes...
It’s finally here--Ashby’s Kenya Trip 2010! After a brief stay
with friends in Chicago, she'll board a plane and disembark on
May 3rd in Nairobi, Kenya, where she’ll spend eight weeks
connecting with friends, volunteers and Visible Grace's Kenyan board. Along with visiting the land, she’s hoping
to make progress toward acquiring the building permits
needed to begin construction on the site. She’ll also be
teaching a community health and nutrition seminar.
It’s a big undertaking, and like any valuable venture,
does not come cheaply. If you’re able to help cover an

amount of the trip costs (about $4,000 total), it would be an enormous blessing and an integral part of propelling Visible Grace forward.

Lights...Camera...Action:
Also very exciting: Jon Rosing and Chad DeHeart (check out
greatfishmedia.com) will be joining Ashby in Kenya for a week
in May in order to gather footage for a Visible Grace video.
Ashby is VERY excited about this video, which will be a huge aid
in promoting Visible Grace in the future. Please pray for
Ashby, Jon and Chad as they travel to Kenya this month.

Pray:
One of the challenges we are currently facing is the attempt to get
permits in Kenya so we can start building classrooms and homes.
We believe corrupt members of the Kenyan government are waiting
for a bribe. Instead of giving in, we would like to start a chain of prayer
across the United States, asking God to move in Kenya and open
doors for us. We believe God is capable of working a miracle for His glory,
and Ashby would love an email from anyone interested in being part
of a prayer team.

The Beat Goes On...
Last month, Visible Grace hosted its first benefit concert with Sixteen Cities
and several other Portland-area bands. It was an enormous blessing for
Ashby to participate with so many people who gave of their time and talents
for such a great cause. We are incredibly thankful for everyone who played
for, volunteered for or attended our benefit concert––THANK YOU!

Funds Via Fairway

Visible Grace will be hosting its first annual golf tournament on July 17
at Eagle Landing Golf Course in Portland. It’s a chance to golf, eat, drink,
make friends and learn more about Visible Grace––all while raising money
for the project in Kenya! Get involved as a player, sponsor a golfer (per hole
or as a flat fee) or help us spread the word! Contact Ashby for details about
getting involved in what’s likely to be one of the best-dressed fundraisers in VisiGrace history.

Your Ball Gown Awaits

Our 6th annual auction will be on October 23 at the Crowne Plaza Hotel
in Lake Oswego, Oregon. We are looking forward to this event, which is our
main fundraiser each year. As always, please contact Ashby if you would like
to attend, donate items or help make this year’s auction fabulous!

Get Involved. Here's How:

DONATE • Any amount is great! It accumulates and helps us get to Kenya,
build the school and other great things! How, you ask? Why, mail a check,
give online through Facebook/ PayPal or buy a Visible Grace t-shirt, of course.

TELL YOUR FRIENDS ABOUT US • We need a
solid network of people who care about kids in Kenya. Casually drop us unto conversation, blog or Facebook about us, follow Ashby’s travel blog, or buy
her a coffee and ask her questions! She’d love to tell you more about what
we’re doing (especially if she’s caffeinated).

VOLUNTEER • Live near Portland? Help us organize our fundraisers! Live somewhere else? Host your own! It’s easy. Contact Ashby if you are interested
and she’ll give you details.

PRAY • We need prayers; for money, for God’s hand to work in Kenya and
to bless our efforts here in the USA. Pray for the kids of Kenya, who are
being oppressed and attacked and deserve a fighting chance. Pray for
Ashby, for her physical health and safety as she travels. Pray for our US
and Kenyan boards, and pray for our volunteers, who do so much to keep
Visible Grace going strong.

Thank you, as always, for all that you do. We appreciate your support
so very much. With love, grace and peace, Ashby and the Visible Grace board

Visible Grace Benefit Concert- February 27th

2010-01-22T14:24:00.000-08:00

Happy 2010, everyone! If you haven't seen it yet, check out our new and improved website! Take a minute to look around- we're pretty excited that it's up to date!

Thank you to those of you who sent in end-of-the-year donations- we are very thankful for your generosity! Visible Grace is slowly gaining momentum and I am encouraged by the support of our donors. There's a lot going on in VGland...

Susan Kimani is keeping very busy over in Kenya, plowing through the mountain of paperwork, applications, permits and appointments that are required before we can begin the building process. We wish her luck- dealing with the Kenyan government is a study in patience and inefficiency. Susan, we are thankful for you!

Meanwhile, here in the US we are doing everything we can to raise the funds necessary to begin building. Once Susan has conquered the paperwork, we'd like to have money to send her so we can break ground! Our goal for 2010 is to have a home built on our land in Kenya.

You can help us reach our goal!
Here's how you can help:

~Become a monthly donor (email me: info at visiblegrace dot org)- this is the best possible way to help Visible Grace bring in a steady income!

~Use GoodSearch as your search engine (enter 'Visible Grace' as your non profit)- VG gets a penny for every search. This really adds up- think about how many times you use, uh, those other search engines every day.

~Join our group on Facebook and follow our page, and give donations online, and invite your friends to join our cause! Facebook is an incredibly easy and ubiquitous way to spread the word about Visible Grace.

~Buy a Visible Grace t shirt- email me (or leave a comment) for details! (or see this blog post.) Adult t shirts are $20.

~Our SIXTH ANNUAL AUCTION is on the calendar- Saturday, October 23rd! Stay tuned for details.

and finally...

We will be having a benefit concert on February 27th!
The details:
Saturday, February 27th at 6:30pm
Our Place Christian Church in Hillsboro
$15 or $10/per for groups!
Five local bands, including 16 Cities

Buy your tickets here, and pass the link around!

This is a great opportunity to spend a few dollars, have a good time, and make a huge difference in the lives of a group of children in Kenya who desperately need advocates. We are on their side- come find out why.

We are looking forward to a wonderful evening full of great music, an update about Visible Grace, and spending time with our friends! Please put this date in your calendar, invite your friends, update your twitter and facebook statuses, tell your mom, ask your wife out on a date, email your boyfriend, carpool with your roommate and buy your tickets now! We'll see you on February 27th!

Visible Grace Newsletter Nov 2009

2009-11-17T21:58:00.001-08:00

Hello everyone!

I hope you are having a wonderful autumn. Here's what's going on with Visible Grace:

Our 5th Annual Auction was held on October 24th and it was a great success. We raised over $24,000! Because of the economic climate this past year, I was not sure what to expect, and I am very pleased and very grateful for the outstanding results. Photo of our live auction.

A huge thank you to everyone who played a part in this fundraiser. Without people to donate items, volunteer their time, and attend the evening, we wouldn’t have an event!

THANK YOU for donating your resources so generously!
We are looking forward to an even more successful auction in October 2010. Stay tuned for a date!

Our goal:
Our current obsession is doing everything within our power to get a school and children’s home started in Kenya. We have been working toward this goal for a long time, and we pray that God blesses our efforts and makes this a reality.

We are currently discussing the best way forward with our team in Nairobi. We are thankful for the money we raised from the auction, and we want to spend it as wisely as possible. We are excited about what this next year contains for us.
We need your help to make this happen! Please consider partnering with us financially on an ongoing basis. We are always thankful for your generosity.

Coming up:
~We are putting together a Christmas list. Would you like to make a donation to Visible Grace this holiday season?

~We are rescheduling our concert for early February of 2010. Please consider attending! It will be a great evening. We’ll let you know as soon as we have more details!

~Our T-shirts are still for sale through my travel blog: ashbyinkenya.blogspot.com

~I will be traveling to Kenya this May!

New developments:

~Our website has been updated! Check it out: www.VisibleGrace.org

~Portland videographers Jon Rosing and Chad DeHart are planning to travel to Kenya with me in May. They will be shooting video in Kenya and helping us put together a video that can be used for fundraising and promoting Visible Grace! Let me know if you are interested in helping support them financially!

We need your help:

~We are always looking for monthly donors. Please consider giving to Visible Grace; your support is very much appreciated. A year-end donation will be tax deductible for 2009.

~We are looking to start a grant-writing team. If you have any experience in this area, please contact me. We are also in need of volunteers of all kinds!

~Coming soon: our Christmas wish list!

Thank you for your continual support.
Peace to you,
Ashby Rauch

5th Annual Auction this Saturday!

2009-10-20T11:37:00.000-07:00

You are cordially invited to attend our 5th annual benefit auction, this Saturday at 6pm at the Crowne Plaza Hilton in Lake Oswego. Tickets are $30 and all proceeds go toward our building and well-digging fund.

If you did not receive an invitation, and or have not yet RSVP'd for this event, and are interested in coming, please let me know! It will be a fun evening and we'd love to see you there. Your support means a lot to me...and you'll love some of the items we have for sale. (For example a week's stay in Hawaii!)

See you there!

t shirts are here!

2009-08-27T12:18:00.000-07:00

order your Visible Grace t shirts today! they look great; we've received tons of compliments on them...order one for your friend, your dentist, your bus driver...

(please note: youth white t's with teal ink are on back order)

Benefit Concert CANCELLED

2009-08-14T08:34:00.001-07:00

Well. Because we never like things to get dull around here, we have decided to cancel/reschedule our benefit.

Burlap to Cashmere was in a car accident this morning. They are fine, but they missed their flight, and were unable to get another flight in time for the concert.

We have decided to reschedule for another date, because we were really looking forward to this event! If you have already purchased a ticket, you are entitled to a refund, but we really hope you will hold onto your ticket and attend the concert when we reschedule.

We will let you know more details once we have them.

Please let anyone know who may have been planning to attend this evening!

Thanks, everyone!

Giving to Visible Grace

2009-07-28T00:41:00.000-07:00

Hello, friends!

There are many ways you can help Visible Grace right now:

~You can select the 'donate' button below to give us a flat donation through PayPal (this is tax deductible!)
~You can go to our Facebook page and make a donation there
~You can select our 'buy now' button to buy a t-shirt. (select your size, colour etc)
~You can go to www.brownpapertickets.com and buy a ticket to our benefit concert on August 14th, and we'll see you there!

Please contact me if you have questions or are interested in planning your own fundraiser.

ashby(at)visiblegrace(dot)org

Thank you!

Buy a Visible Grace T shirt:

last one. but it's a good one.

2009-05-12T19:49:00.000-07:00

Alicent, Lavenda, Esther, myself and Faith.

I mean one at a time.

2009-05-12T19:44:00.000-07:00

sunset!

baby steps: I'm just going to upload a couple at a time. PATIENTLY.

2009-05-12T19:28:00.000-07:00

flower girls!

attempt no. 4,503

2009-05-12T19:04:00.000-07:00

1. Gladys and myself. Gladys is awesome.

2. Kim and myself. I am not even going to attempt to turn this the right way. you win, Blogger, okay?

Kim says hi, internets

2009-04-28T23:32:00.000-07:00

...he is currently bouncing on Susan's bed behind me and rattling off stories about his computer and his emails. I'm serious.

so, I managed yet again to fit a ridiculous number of things into a very (seemingly) small space. today I'm visiting the land again, visiting another friend, and then heading to the airport.

after thirty six very long hours I will reach Oregon and once I've recovered I'll be posting pictures on this here blog. I apologise for the recent boringness of my posts.

I hope you all are well!

Mbita and Eldoret

2009-04-27T08:11:00.000-07:00

visiting the village looks like this:

I enter a friend's home, I take off my shoes, I sit on the couch, chair, whatever. I shake hands with everyone, I accept a cup of tea, and I either talk, or listen, depending on the dominant language. I stay until it's time to leave and then I move on to the next house. and repeat. and repeat again.

some of my friends speak Luo, Swahili and English fluently. any two of the three and we're golden- I can get by. but the ones who only speak Luo- well, gestures help, and I know a few key phrases. sometimes the children translate. sometimes we just sit in silence.

I honestly think I could make a living of visiting friends. just going from house to house, giving and receiving stories, drinking tea, taking pictures, praying together (in any language).

from Mbita I took a ferry, bus, van and taxi (note that the vehicles got progressively smaller as I got closer to Eldoret) and then I was at the home of the Ollimo family. I taught with and roomed with Gladys in 2004 and it feels like we've lost no time since then. I had a lovely weekend with them. then it was time for a looooooooong bus ride back to Nairobi. and here I am.

I wanted to upload pictures of my trip, but the internet connection is too slow. I'll post some soon. I'm sure you all are interested in seeing all 89000 pictures I've taken in the past few weeks.

peace to all...

stories, stories, stories.

2009-04-20T11:30:00.000-07:00

I wish I could bring you here. I wish the pictures, stories, words, sounds and smells could reach you in your homes, your comfortable, warm, dry homes and I wish I could begin to make you understand Kenya. What the rain sounds like as it falls on aluminum roofing. What sweat, trash, roasted goat, oil and laundry soap smells like when it mixes together in the air and comes into your kitchen in the evenings, through the open window. I wish I could continue to learn every detail of this country and I wish I could carry it back to the States with me.

Though I always return from Kenya with a few souvenirs and a million pictures, the thing I have begun to collect with enthusiasm is stories. Not to be used to raise funds, not to be placed in the center of a bleeding heart slideshow (though it happens), but to teach, to learn, to remember.

I sat today in a small café with my friend Christine, who makes jewelry and other things for us to sell to raise money. She told me about her niece, who has lost both parents to AIDS. The niece now stays with a relative, or maybe a neighbour- the details are fuzzy. But what Christine knows is that her niece needs an education and a place to stay. She needs, above all, an advocate. As we sipped on our mango juice she told me, ‘these are the kids you will be teaching. You need to hear their stories and understand their lives. I will take you there. You will see.’

These stories are innumerable. The names and details change but the bottom line is always, always HIV. Always, always a child left behind to face this world alone.

It is hard for me to find a balance between telling these stories as a means to an end (the end being a successful non profit which is funded in the US and operating in Kenya) and as a means to…to…a beginning.

I do not want to meet these children, visit their homes, take their pictures and drink their chai in order to bring their stories back to the States for sponsorship. That I will do this eventually is inevitable, but it is not my main motivation. Hearing their stories is what makes me love Kenya. It makes me understand and it makes me want to scream and cry and it makes me want to never leave. It is these children who grab my heart, my hands, my senses- they are captivating.

It is these stories that I must learn to carry home. The eyes and the smiles and the stories. These stories make me anxious, desperate- I will do anything and everything I can to raise the money to build a classroom to provide these children with a future which is better than the ones they have now. (hint.)

I will be spending the next six days traveling the country; from Nairobi to Mbita to Eldoret and back to Nairobi. I will come back here Sunday evening, doubtless with more stories and pictures and words.

no pictures today.

2009-04-18T08:40:00.000-07:00

I have tried twice now to update my blog and blogger won't let me. I also tried to upload a cute picture from last weekend (we went to a wedding), but it refuses to upload.

anyway, not a lot to report, but I just wanted to let everyone know that things are going well! I have been visiting people, collecting stories and ideas, taking pictures, and having a good time in general.

I hope you all are well.

won't you help me sing this song of freedom?

2009-04-10T11:02:00.002-07:00

problem: I didn't bring my computer/cd player/I don't have an ipod, so I'm stuck with whatever song I most recently hear playing on repeat in my head until I hear another song.

today's playlist: Bob Marley mix, whichever boy band sang 'Quit Playing Games with My Heart' (complete with a music video, thank you modern bus system), and, because of the book I just read, the entire soundtrack of 'Wicked'.

for Leigh: I just finished The Secret Life of Bees and Wicked, and now I'm reading Walden, Alice in Wonderland, and the gospel of Matthew. : ) you?

for Dixon: yes, I remember the things I'm here to do. I promise.

for the rest of you: it is hard for me to articulate the things I'm thinking and feeling and seeing. I learn more about Kenyan culture every day that I'm here (I counted and am 95% sure this is my 8th trip to Kenya). I'm not sure if I'll ever be fully assimilated. there are so many American things I miss. but when I'm in the States there are so many Kenyan things I miss.

but this is not the point.

the more I see of Nairobi's 'generation x', the more concerned I am for the future of this beautiful country. I've watched and listened and learned enough to be thoroughly confused.

they say they want peace, but their lives suggest otherwise. they are lured into the glamour of a flashy thug-esque lifestyle. they wear shirts stating 'Soldier Boy' and they promise violent ends to anyone who crosses them.

...okay, obviously not everyone. but enough. yesterday on the bus I sat next to a boy who was chewing leaves and seeds of some sort- I have no idea what they were called, but I know they are a drug of some kind. I see bus drivers chew them to stay awake. I see them sniff glue. I see them walk home drunk. the women? the women are working.

what hope is there for their kids, who no doubt never see their fathers? what hope do they have of a brighter future than this one? the rich look past the poor; they keep walking. people are still talking about the disputed election results and ensuing violence from 16 months ago. they vow 'never again' and in the same breath they blame a certain tribe, a certain group of people, for the problems. the same tribe they shop with, eat with, work with, sit next to every day.

how can we move past this? Nairobi is moving too quickly from the traditional African way of life which still permeate the villages to the fast-paced, materialistic culture of the Western cultures. they want things they cannot yet have and their actions rarely match up to their words.

in Susan's living room hangs a large wall painting declaring 'faith, hope, love'. these are words I've heard countless times. I have a necklace with says 'faith'. it is one of my gifts, I think. people continually tell me they are 'impressed' by the amount of faith it takes to do what I'm doing. (wrong, I tell them: stubbornness is not the same as faith.) faith comes easily for me, I guess.

but hope? can I hope in the future of Kenya? can I believe that we will find the right people to work for Visible Grace? that we will find parents who will raise up Godly children? that these children will be able to avoid the pressure to conform to the foolish action of their peers?

dare I hope that they really will make a difference in their nation?

I have to.

we have the faith to hope in love. this has become my mantra.

dedicated.

2009-04-08T11:42:00.000-07:00

I think it's taken around an hour to upload these pictures. so I hope they're worth it. : )

today Susan and I visited our land! I cannot even put into words how excited I am about everything. (in case you couldn't tell from the huge grins on our faces). it's gorgeous. there's a fence going all the way around, and a cabin for our caretaker, and a bathroom/shower for him.

we spent some time walking all the way around the land (I took
about a million pictures). then we walked to the store and bought meat and flour, which I carried on my head like a good Luo. : )

we made lunch with our caretaker (it smelled like camping) and then headed home.

I wore sunscreen like a good girl, and we sat in the shade for most of the time, but I still got a really odd sunburn. lines on my arms and a triangle on each foot. go figure.

I have a loooooot more pictures, but at the rate of uploading one picture every four hours, I'm calling it a night.

I know it doesn't look that impressive from these pictures. but it is so exciting to see a building. a fence. beacons. the caretaker spends his days chopping up the smaller bushes (leaving the trees), and Susan's nephews (my little brothers) have been picking seeds (I don't know the name of them in English) and on Saturday we will bring them to the land. we're going to dry them and then, when it rains, plant them around the perimeter so we can build up a shrubbery fence. it will look really nice, I think.

all this to say, I am THRILLED about the land. I just wish we had the money to start building. (on that note- rather than spend a lot of money on a well- money we don't even have now- we are paying our neighbour and using his water.)

I'm having some trouble with Twitter. when I update from my phone, it's supposed to post on facebook, on my twitter site, on the left side of this blog, and to people's phones. it says I'm sending them but so far they haven't shown up on the blog or on facebook. (not sure if they're going to people's phones...anyone?)

anyway...I have been updating a couple times today (like I texted from the land today and said I was standing on Visible Grace soil!). so, if you're not getting the updates, I'm very sorry.

I hope you all are doing well. praise God for his faithfulness. I'm encouraged.

in a nutshell.

2009-04-06T09:26:00.000-07:00

this is Kenya:

I was thinking how lovely it was to be in Susan's new apartment, with running water and a computer AND INTERNET.

then I was thinking, I shall go to the bathroom (did I mention indoor plumbing?) and then write a little something on my blog.

then while I was going to the bathroom the power went out.

then while I was looking for matches the power came back on.

then it took me twenty minutes to connect to the internet and now I have nothing left to blog about except how long it took to get to my blog.

the end.

stay tuned!

2009-03-25T23:38:00.001-07:00

I leave for Kenya March 31st. excessive updates to follow!

panoramic view

2008-09-09T16:17:00.000-07:00

Pretty, no?

LAND!

2008-09-07T13:25:00.000-07:00

K... so, WE HAVE LAND!!!!!!

and here it is. You can see other shots in previous posts (I tried to find ones I haven't posted before).

We've officially made a deposit and are making plans to make the next payment.

Meanwhile, the owner is working on getting a surveyor to mark our ten acres with beacons (I think I've said this before).

The point is... this is the future home of Grace Academy.

OURS.

2008-09-01T05:15:00.000-07:00

This is, no joke, the third time I've written this. Either it's going to show up three times, or not at all, and I'm getting VERY tired of typing on this defunct keyboard.

Anywho. Guess what?

WE GOT THE LAND!!!!!!!!!

The owners signed today. We'll make a deposit (10%) as soon as the banks are open in the US. It took some explaining to get the idea across: banks just aren't open at 2am on a Sunday night.

From here we have 30 days to pay in full, while the owner has 2 weeks to get a surveyor to mark our ten acres with beacons. In the meantime our lawyer will ensure that they don't sell to someone else or take it back.

I'm headed back to Oregon in just 2 short days, while Susan will work on things such as a fence and the beginnings of a well.

The payment of the land will take just about every penny we've got, and until the auction, we're really scraping the barrel. Please consider making a donation, no matter how small, to Visible Grace, to help us with extra expenses. We're so excited to be moving forward at this point! Things have gone so well in the past few weeks. (You can find us on Facebook or Pay Pal, or send a donation to PO Box 91332, Portland OR, 97291). Really. Any amount will help, and we're so grateful.

Once I get home I'm jumping headfirst into auction preparations. I need help with this too. Please.

I'll be in Portland by Thursday afternoon! If you're in the great NorthWest, see you soon!

splendor

2008-08-28T08:15:00.000-07:00

also: our lawyer confirmed today that the land we want to buy is free and clear and rightfully owned by the person selling to us.

in other words, we are getting closer and closer to securing the land. it's not set in stone yet, but as I like to look at it, less and less things can go wrong at this point.

we're picking up a letter of agreement from our lawyer tomorrow and bringing it to the owner. then he has a week to sign...

ps: thanks Aunt Jackie for the knitting help. : ) and others...