I grew up in a community where people fervently went around trying to lead others to Salvation. You could hand them tracks, offer to pray with them, invite them to a church event geared for “Seekers,” or have them over to your house for a home-study. When you saw someone on the street or in the store, you would look at their lost souls sympathetically, “If only they knew the truth.” It was a goal, a badge, or gold star on the wall if you had the courage to share your faith with someone. If you could lead an unbeliever into salvation: another jewel in your crown.

I had been preached to, prayed with, read the Bible, & went to church every week, but I was first offered salvation at 18. The boss at my summer job offered me a track, but this time the pamphlet was filled with potential of a greater Salvation. The Salvation he was offering was deliverance from the guilt I had grown up in, redemption for my constricted ability to dream, and freedom from a culture that dictated how I must live, think, feel, & believe.

He offered me a plane ticket to anywhere in the world;

I got scared. I couldn’t make the leap of faith into a new life that I didn’t quite understand. I feared the guilt of making a wrong decision; having to look back and regret doing what all of my friends had advised against. How would my family react if I were saved? Would they be embarrassed? Would they be disappointed? What if I am in leadership one day, a politician, the President? How would I justify my counter-culture lifestyle?

I went on with life. I fell further & further into my unbelieving ways. I made decisions that would impact my life forever. I rebelled from the freedom I was offered & joined the Marine Corps. Instead of seeking redemption in truth, I found comfort in commitment to my wife, religion, & church. The worst was yet to come. I sought forgiveness for who I was.

It took a deployment to Iraq, destruction of my marriage, & an ensuing string of failures for me to finally hit bottom. It was then, when I no longer had a reputation to protect, and there, where I had no-where else to turn that I finally accepted the truth. That was the day I was saved. That was the moment when I found my salvation: I forgave myself for all of my failures, my bad decisions, and my weaknesses. I found redemption in being proud of who I was, not who my community or culture wanted me to be. I found freedom, the freedom to be who I am, the freedom to not only chase my dreams, but also the freedom to dream my Own dreams.

Now I believe so fervently, that I too am passionately sharing my salvation with others. I don’t have a track to hand out yet, but if I did… …It would be a plane ticket to anywhere in the world.

…For some of you, this is the first time you have heard from me since I left for Kenya. I have had an incredible five months in a beautiful country that I have started to call home. I arrived in Nairobi to give what I could to The 1010 Project and the people of East Africa, but the people here and their relationships have instead been a gift to me.

Tuesday afternoon I was offered a position with Doctors Without Borders. I applied to work with their international relief teams in September, and this week they asked me to join one of their Belgian teams in Haiti. I accepted the six-month posting as a logistician today, and leave for Port au Prince via Brussels on June 10^th.

This is an incredible opportunity for me, and an exciting adventure. I am looking forward to the challenges of working in disaster relief again. The hands-on and intense fieldwork is a great match for my personality. I love the problem solving and sometimes adrenalin it takes to get the job done. That said, this was a very difficult decision.

I am very loyal and personally tied to The 1010 Project. Our partners and beneficiaries in Kenya are my friends, the staff is like my family, and our mission provided a vehicle for my values. 1010 mobilized me as an advocate, and was a catalyst for my professional development. — I am also not done exploring East Africa. I arrived in Kenya with the goal of standing on the summits of both Mt. Kilimanjaro and Mt. Kenya, and I haven’t done either. On the other hand, this new position is the next step in my professional goals; it just arrived a lot sooner then expected.

Please think of me over the next few weeks as I prepare for this step. My thoughts and memories of you are what inspire my life. I will continue to be a part of the 1010 family (as I have been the last 4 years) as a donor and volunteer, and I ask you to do the same. Their model is proven, our partners are phenomenal, and their opportunities are dependent on your involvement! Please go to the website this week and see how you can Join The Story.

Thank you again for your friendship, support, and empowerment.

Keith B. Ives

Kim’s hope now lies in an alternative revenue source for the school. The disadvantage of his slum-setting also provides the potential for his success. There are no water sources in the immediate vicinity of his school or the families that share his tin walls. He is completing a business plan/proposal that would have the school purchase a large water tank that could be filled daily by the Nairobi Water Company. The school could then sell the water (for about 1 shilling a gallon). Considering other sources, community size, and operating expenses, the water sales would be able to generate 30% of the needed revenue annually.

Selling water would be a service to this community, an empowering business for the school, and a gift to the disenfranchised children in the area.

I walked home in the dark, energized by the buzz of this community. The muddy path out was lined with families selling fresh fruit, fried tilapia, brass padlocks, pencils… …life was happening all around me. Yet despite the worst of conditions everyone’s smiles seemed to glow as brightly as the kerosene lanterns that marked the way.

I’m back in Nairobi and trying hard to stay focused and disciplined in my work for The 1010 Project.  My immediate goals are to complete the NGO registration process with the government here, write the constitution & standard operating procedures for in-country operations, & to do a written evaluation of all of our current partners.  In the meantime I am also being intentional about getting out, exploring, & having fun. I really want to climb Mt. Kenya (& maybe Kilimanjaro) before I leave Nairobi. Yes, I will be leaving Nairobi. I have been accepted to work with Doctors Without Borders/Medicines Sans Frontiers (MSF) as a logistician. This is a “Roster” type position where give them my availability, & they try to find a “mission” to match my skill-set. I don’t know where I will be; that’s half of the excitement. The missions are typically 6 months at a time. I have posted myself as available starting in August. That should give me enough time to finish up what I am working on with 1010. I cannot tell you how excited I am to move back towards the relief side of the house. I have been craving something a bit more physically challenging, faster pace, & with more immediate results. I suddenly realized that I like to sweat, have my adrenalin pumped, and see the results of my work quickly… …ok maybe I’m a bit impatient.   Anyways, that’s the update. I am taking french lessons at the local Alliance Francaise. Brushing up on it will help me pick up missions with MSF faster. Check them out. They are a impressive org doing very intense work… 

I also have uploaded a number of pictures from my explorations around Kenya. Check them out here: http://picasaweb.google.com/KeithBIves

• Bloody Mary’s & Brunch at Luciles‘ (Denver Location)
  • Have your morning drink while sitting at their fire-pit outside! Be ready for a long wait on weekends
• Afternoon Drink at Golden City Brewery
  • Bring a DD, a coat on cold days (the seating is outside), & be ready to join in on the Irish drinking songs
  • Don’t bring a date unless she is OK w/using port-o-johns
• Hiking around Green Mountain
  • The wind can bite, but the view is inspiring… …perfect for a last minute fix of the outdoors
• Late Night (open till 1am) Coffee at Paris On The Platte
  • It used to be tradition to buy a pack of clove cigarettes (I think they are illegal now though)
  • Service usually is poor, buy your drink a carafe at a time
  • You WILL smell like smoke when you leave
  • Enjoy the local art, on-site roasted coffee, & eclectic cliental
• Other Favorites:

Confluence Park, Exploring REI, Climbing Clear Creek Canyon, PHO on Colfax or Havana st,

Gin Mill, Stranahans, DAZBOG (12th & Clayton), St. Mary’s Glacier (not Denver at all), Charlie Browns

“And gradually, over the years, my faith has deepened and broadened. You cannot travel the world and experience new customs and religions, as I have been privileged to do, without eventually concluding that there is no single, “true” path to God. There are as many paths as there are searchers for the way, and part of the essence of being a spiritual being lies in treating other travelers on that road as you would have them treat you–with an open mind and a compassionate heart. These days, all I know is that the more I explore the world and its faiths, the less anxious and the more humble I become.” (Whittaker pg. 56)

This sums up so much of how I feel & what I believe these days…

I need some food to wash the disappointment out of my mouth. I leave and continue walking down the road. I know a good place to grab Mbuzi Choma (grilled goat) about a kilometer down the road. Arriving I find more disappointment. They are closed. I walk a bit further dodging the puddles left from tonight’s rain. Mud gets stuck between the bed of my Chaco sandal & my foot, as I notice that the air smells like a port-a-john in need of servicing. This has to be the only country that smells worse after it rains.

I spot a kiosk down the road with lights on. I head that way and begin to smell burning charcoal & see smoke. I walk into the brightly lit shack & find a 20-something man alone manning a fire with a large metal pot on it. I ask if he has anything left. He assures me that his beans and chapattis are always ready – 24 hours a day. I order a bowl, sit down, & pull out another cigarette.  It is just as disappointing as the last. The man brings me a very hot and very overcooked bowl of beans, a perfect chapatti, and a cup of chai. My first sip of the tea awarded me with a mouthful of slimy skin. I finished it all and silently hope that my stomach would not punish me for taking a gamble on food from a kiosk at 3:00am.

The late night chef takes a seat next to me & asks how I find my meal, Kenya & Eastlands (the area I am in). I lie a bit and tell him that I love all three. I offer him a smoke and we light up together. I notice two women walking down the street & suggest that it is a bit dangerous for “mamas” to be walking around this time of night. He retorts that business is good for them around this hour. “Oh… …They are prostitutes?” I half ask half state. He confirms my conclusion and then explains that they use the small hotel just down the alley from where we are. “The rates are good.” He explains that you can just go into the bar area and ask to see the magazine. “From there you just point to the picture of the girl you want.”  He goes on to explain that he used to find a prostitute to pay for sex every Friday night. It was his routine of sorts. He explains to me in a matter-of-fact tone that sometimes he wouldn’t even use protection. Laughingly, I tell him that he is being stupid. “You are a good looking guy, why would you pay for sex. Dangerous sex at that!” He quickly jumps in and reassures me that he doesn’t do it anymore.  A few months ago he went to a VCT (Free HIV testing/counseling center). He found out that he was “negative.” He went on to explain that now that he knows he is clean he doesn’t take those sort of chances anymore. I offer a few words and acknowledge his wise decision.

I ask him if he has any eggs I can buy, and he confirms that he has fresh ones. I buy three to boil for breakfast the next day. He puts them in a baggie and takes 100 KSH for the meal & eggs. I leave him the rest of the pack of cigarettes and nervously begin to walk back home. I really don’t want to deal with any punks on the way home. I’ve been called brave; I’ve been called stupid. Either way I don’t like to run into guys with big knives.

Its starts to rain again…

The coolest Uncle in the world!

Twenty years from now I want to be just as excited about life as I am now. I hope I am satisfied with my past, but not yet complacent with the present. In my dreams I am still exploring, still being surprised, & still bold enough to start things even when I don’t know what the finish looks like. I am determined to be sharing my life with friends of the same caliber as I have today; hopefully some of the same ones that I have in 2010.

In 2030 I want to find myself as I am now: the only one awake on this overnight flight, buzzing with the excitement of something new when I land…