wfn.org | A Missionary's Story: "Drinking Blood!"

[PCUSA.NEWS@pcusa.org]

9-July-1997 
97263 
 
    A Missionary's Story: "Drinking Blood!" 
    by Timothy Emerick-Cayton 
 
(Editor's note: This story came to the Presbyterian News Service last week 
from the Rev. Tim Emerick- Cayton, who teaches theology under the auspices 
of the Presbyterian Church in East Africa in Nairobi, Kenya. Also there as 
a mission co-worker is his spouse, Sher, and their three children, 
Jennifer, Michael and Jordan. -- Jerry L. Van Marter) 
 
NAIROBI--This weekend we had the wonderful experience of living among the 
nomadic herders of Kenya called the Massai.  These colorful, strong, 
beautiful, warrior people opened to us their homes and their hearts and we 
fell in.  None of us -- kids included -- will ever forget the experience. 
 
             We were the guests of several Massai students of mine who are 
in the final stages of training as pastors.  We spent Saturday visiting a 
project located in what we would call the middle of nowhere, but which 
serves the children of more than 200 families, some of which live as many 
as five miles from the project. 
 
    As herders these people need their space, but the privileged children 
coming to school walk (or run) the miles to and from school twice a day, 
beginning before light and going home in the dark.  The project provides 
them with books, food, spiritual direction and love in this arduous effort. 
It also supports their families. 
 
    We were there that day to give out food that had been donated by a 
friend of the project from the United States.  Knowing the draught and 
hunger that has affected so many people in East Africa, we know these foods 
were gratefully received. 
 
             Saturday night the group slaughtered a goat in our honor 
(thanks!) and offered us the warm blood to drink.  I was the only one of 
the family to accept this privilege.  That night we slept in the small 
homes they make out of sticks and cow dung.  Yes, we each slept surrounded 
top, bottom and on all four sides by dried manure.  The next day we 
worshiped with these people, were feted with gifts of beadwork and cloth 
and made to feel so much a part of them. 
 
             Michael's comment on the way home expressed his experience: 
"If I wasn't so happy about getting home I'd really kill you for forcing me 
to go."  Jen, however, changed the mood immediately:  "Although it's not an 
experience I want to repeat, I really enjoyed it!"  As for me, I could make 
of life of it.  Come to think of it, I guess I have, at least for now. 
 
            Perhaps the greatest benefit was realizing how differently 
people live and yet how loving and caring they all are.  It reminds me of a 
statement I heard recently attributed to Dr. Johnette Cole, president of 
Spellman College: "We are for difference, allowing difference, for learning 
difference, to understand difference, until difference doesn't make any 
difference." 
 
             How true it is. 

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