A Day in the Life of an MCF Intern

Written September 29th

We were warned before we left Canada that it would take a while for us to settle into our “official” job descriptions. How true that advice was! 10 days have passed and we have done something different every day. We’ve been students, cooks, farm workers, supervisors, childcare givers, clerks and construction workers! It takes flexibility and a willingness to serve wherever you can help.

For the last three days we’ve been working on the farm. The first day we worked with two Kenyan women wrapping wire around small sticks. As soon as the women found out that we were staying for 8 months they were determined to each us Swahili and Kikumba, the local language spoken by many people at MCF. That day I remarked to Lindsey that I feel like I’m living in a Richard Scary book. (I apologize if the spelling of his last name isn’t correct!) Everything around us has a new name that we are trying to learn. We’re constantly pointing to things and asking, “What is this is Swahili?” and then we spend the next day in practice using the new word.

On Tuesday we experienced just how hard it is to pick French beans. MCF exports several hundred kilograms on extra-fine French beans every other day. That morning we spent 2.5 hours picking and then sorted what we had picked into acceptable and not acceptable. The afternoon wasn’t quite as tiring because we helped to supervise the bean grading and shipment.

This morning we were back in the greenhouse for more tiring work. We helped to string rows and rows of support wire for the beans – also backbreaking work. By the time lunch rolled around we were exhausted. We quickly ate our lunch and spent the rest of our break sleeping! Fortunately the rest of the day was spent in the office filling in farm reports. I now know more about farming than I had ever expected to know and if anyone is looking to start a French bean operation, I could probably provide you will a fair bit of information!

Last week we were the kitchen help. The MCF kitchen were the children’s food is prepared is unlike anything I have ever seen before. It’s an aluminum structure with a door, service window and openings for ventilation. There are three big wood-burning stoves with a hole in the top of each for huge pots to sit in. The pots are large enough to bathe in! That day we chopped two and a half burlap bags of kale (also called “scumawiki” in Swahili). It took us several hours. It was so different from Canada. The table was an old countertop on a basic wood structure, sitting under the shade of a tree. The knives were worn and dull. One of them gave me a painful blister. The cooks use a wood paddle (much like one used in a canoe) to stir the food. I have great admiration for the cooking team. The work is hard and at times very monotonous, but they love the children so much and enjoy taking care of them in this very practical and necessary way.

In addition to getting a different job every day (much like Burt in Mary Poppins!), we also have all sorts of other opportunities. For example, last week I voluntarily watched one of the young men, Kavoli, kill a chicken for our dinner. It was actually very fascinating, especially if you’ve taken any anatomy (which I have!). I won’t go into details, but if anyone would like a more extensive account of the experience, I would be happy to oblige. Also, if you ever need to have a chicken killed and prepared, I could probably take care of the task!

Another interesting experience has spending time with Mr. JJ, the man in charge of security. First we pondered verses from the book of Proverbs. Then he decided that he would teach us a song and we would teach him a song. The song that he taught us was supposed to be a song of joy, but it sounded more like a funeral march. (Lindsey and I are not the most stellar singers.) After singing through that song (it took quite a while because there are something like six verses – personally I think that Mr. JJ was making them up as he we were going just to keep us singing longer.), Lindsey and I taught him an old camp song, “I Just Want to be a Sheep, Baa, Baa, Baa.” He rather enjoyed the song, and it was pretty fun watching this 60 year old Kenyan man singing, “I don’t want to be a hypocrite because they’re not hip with it.”

The children of MCF and the staff have a deep and real love for God. Each night at devotions the campus echoes with the sound of their voices praising God. The beautiful thing about MCF is that they may not have expensive clothing, or new gadgets, or fancy food, but they have the most important things in life, including love, a safe home, a caring family, an education and a vibrant relationship with God. I already know that it will be hard to go back to North America, where there is such an emphasis on the unimportant, little things in life.

We’ve only been here for two weeks. There are so many more adventures to come! I will continue to keep you posted. If you have any questions or comments, I welcome you to post them on the blog or to email me and I will try to answer them. Just to warn you, some of the letters and emails that you will receive from me might have been written a number of days before they were sent, so if you’re confused between the dates and when it arrived, that would be the reason why. I so appreciate all of your prayers, emails and letters! All my love to each of you!

Bye for now! Kwa hari! (“Goodbye” in Swahili!)