Asher Kaufman, age 18, set out on June 28 for a yearlong trip to help spread the Children's Rosary in Europe and Africa. He spent the months of July, August and the first two weeks in September in France. He arrived in Uganda on September 15. From Uganda he traveled by car to Rwanda on September 28. After a week in Rwanda there was once more a return for more travel in Uganda. On October 11 he arrived in Tanzania and on October 26 traveled to Kenya. Asher grew up helping the Children's Rosary and participating in it. He now is helping to spread the Children's Rosary to more parishes and schools. He is also discerning a vocation to the priesthood and has applied to the seminary through the Archdiocese of Hartford. Please keep both his trip and his vocation in your prayers. He has been sharing dispatches from the trip.
"On Friday morning, we set off from Voi in the direction of Dandora, a suburb of Nairobi. It was set to be a long journey but not excessively so; it was only a few hours. On the way, we planned to stop at the St. Raphael outstation of the Sultan Hamud parish of Fr. Wachira. For those of you who have watched the Fertile Soil Africa documentary now streaming on EWTN’s streaming platform for free, you would know this place well; it is in the rural Maasai village we visited where we visited the dung huts and walked through the riverbed. If you have not watched the documentary, go ahead and watch it.
On our way down the dirt path to the village, it became gradually apparent that the rains of the day previous had made the path rather wet and muddy. The way became worse and more treacherous. Finally, we came upon a long stretch of mud that was deeper and thicker than before. David, the driver, hit the accelerator and went straight into it, turning the steering wheel this way and that to keep the car pointed in the right direction. Small bits of mud flew up past the windows like confetti, covering the hood and roof of the car. When we finally made it out on the other side, the wheels were caked with mud, and overall the car looked like it had just come through a swamp. One accelerates in mud to prevent the car from settling, which is what would happen if one braked.
After this experience, David was a bit wary of blazing right into the next stretch of treacherous ground, particularly since it was much longer than the last. If the car were to get stuck, it would require a tractor to pull it out; this is no cheap endeavor.
I looked around; there were some sheep pasturing nearby in the tumbleweed and small brush. On the road were varied animal tracks, including those of a giraffe. Besides the anguished and deep treads our car had just made in the mud, only the single track of a motorcycle showed the mark of human existence; not a person or house was in sight. This was not the best place to become stranded in the mud.
We decided to turn left down a narrow path in hopes of finding a parallel road that was less threatening. On the way, we passed some giraffes, and, having not seen any during my visit to Queen Elizabeth National Park in Uganda, I stopped to take some pictures. 
While there, we noticed there was a house not far away out of which a man emerged. He came over to us and started talking to David. Realizing our situation, he found a man on a motorbike to guide us toward a parallel road not far away. Back on track, we sped down to the outstation quite rapidly.
Upon arriving, the children were present to greet us, and many of the same people who were there the last time came as well. Amos, the animator who showed us around the church and the surrounding houses, for instance, was there. Also a few of those who had invited us to their houses were present as well.
We gave rosaries to the group, which has continued to meet so faithfully, and we gave some small gifts of bread and juice. We could not prolong our visit too long, however, since some rain seemed to be inclement, and that could have prevented our being able to pass on the road.
Once safely back on the paved main road, we directed ourselves towards Dandora, the suburb of Nairobi where I had been invited by Fr. Steven Mburu(pictured below) of Holy Cross Family Ministries. Fr. Cleophus had to leave to cover Masses for another priest, so this visit to Dandora was one I was completing on my own.
The rectory, however, was very comfortable, and I felt a rush of pleasure when I was shown to my room. It was nicely furnished with a large bed and enough space for my bags. There was a large bay window overlooking the street.
That night I met Fr. Steve and the other priests of the parish. Fr. Steve was a very warm and welcoming man who made me feel right at home. He had also organized a meticulous schedule of events for the next day and Sunday, for which I was grateful.
Just before bed, he informed me that I might want to change rooms since it would be noisy in the morning because of the street. Having more than once been able to sleep through very loud noises, though, I declined his offer, having taken a liking to my room.
The next morning, I was awakened very early by a loud horn blast. Still half asleep and wondering what this unwelcome interruption to my peaceful reverie might be, I tried to go back to sleep only to have the sound repeated. It continued incessantly for some minutes. I realized it was a car horn but was at a loss was to why it continued on for so long. Another horn joined it, and the two did not stop during all the time I was showering and dressing. Because of the bay window, the sound came in practically unfiltered such that it was almost like I was on the street corner myself. I inquired later to the others about it, and I was told that the rectory was right next to a bus stand and that the bus drivers blow their horns like that to attract customers. What a neighborhood!
That day, I went out on a hike with some youths from various parishes in the local deanery. We prayed all four sets of mysteries of the Rosary, the Litany of the Saints, and the Litany of the Blessed Virgin Mary. It was a powerful hike.
Afterwards we went to the house of a friend of Fr. Steve’s for lunch, and I was invited to say a few words on the Rosary. We then went back to the parish.
It was such an enjoyable day, being with the young people and with the staff at Holy Cross Family Ministries that were so kind and helpful to me. I was grateful to have gotten to know them.
The next day, Sunday, was when we went to visit Our Lady of the Rosary parish on the other side of town. This parish was particularly vibrant, with the Rosary being prayed before every Mass. The priest welcomed us warmly. He was very interested in starting a Children’s Rosary group, as were the parishioners and staff there. Indeed, I felt so blessed that I had gotten the opportunity to visit this parish out of all the others.
For lunch, we stopped at a recently-built house of the Holy Cross Fathers. It was remote and peaceful, with the breeze gently rippling through the shady trees. It was the kind of place one dreams about living in.
The rest of Sunday afternoon I spent resting and catching up on important work back at the rectory.
Such was my visit to Dandora; we left on Monday morning. I must say that I am very grateful for my time there and for Fr. Steve’s hospitality. I made many friends there, including Anderson and Agrey, young men about my age who were at the rectory with me, and members of the Holy Cross team who were so kind as to help me with my Children’s Rosary outreach efforts when visiting the Holy Rosary parish.
What a blessed visit!"
To see all of Asher's dispatches from his journey click HERE
No comments:
Post a Comment