Week Thirteen

So – I’m feeling like this update might be simply a collection of random thoughts…..I have been feeling a bit scattered laterly.  So read the bits you like!!

First, a huge thank you to those who sent emails this week.  It is so great to see things in my inbox!  As Craig and I predicted, we are both finding this second half of my time away harder to cope with than the first half.  So it’s great to hear news from home and to hear that you haven’t totally forgotten about me!!  I even received messages from two of the women who work at the post office.  I”m usually there two or three times a month to send Home of Grace funds by moneygram – I guess they miss me too!!

So – I woke up on Monday with another song running through my head.  It’s one the kids here sing at worship.  The words of the chorus are:  “You’ve changed my life, given me a new one, I’m no longer the same…”  I could write a book (and I just might!) about this whole adventure I’m on and how God is changing me.  I know it will be the topic of conversation with many of you when I return.  The words of this song are so significant and appropriate – at so many different levels.  I’m learning so much about so many things – about Africa, about children, about God, about myself, about life.  If I look back to seven years ago when I first enrolled in the  school board’s ‘four over five’ program that made this trip possible I definitely do feel “no longer the same”.  (I have a feeling a longer blog post is brewing….!)

One of the ways I’ve been changed is the new appreciation I have for my refugee friends and the parents and families at school who are new immigrants.  Living in a new culture and one where I do not speak the language that surrounds me is tough work. The body language and gestures, even intonation and tone of voice are totally different, making it impossible (and even unwise) to guess what is going on.  So I sit back… (quite unusual for me, you are no doubt thinking!)   Even expressions in English that people use here I thought would be fine – but have totally different meanings.  For example “It’s okay” is a common response to a question.  In Canada, it usually means, “no thank you, it’s not necessary”.  But here?  “It’s okay” means yes!  (I learned that the hard way when I committed an early faux-pas, offering my help with something and then not thinking it was needed…!  They must have thought I was quite rude.)

Which leads me to another major difference here in Kenya.  Kenyans laugh.  About everything.  They laugh when they see me.  They laugh when I say something.  They laugh when I leave.  (Not the time or place to be overly sensitive.)  I’m learning not to mistake this for rudeness. But apart from their reaction to me, they react to everything with laughter.   Tragedies, accidents, sickness, as well as the usual funny events.  “Laughter is the best medicine” may be the reason. But, regardless, it is just their style.  And I am learning that, while I may be tempted to interpret their laughter as a sign of being content and happy in the midst of their life circumstances, it is not so.  Who could ever be truly happy when faced with the tragedies, stress and suffering that is rampant here?  The English compositions that the secondary students have been writing for me are shocking in their content.  Accidents, death, violence, illness, abuse, extreme poverty,  injustice, treachery.  These students have difficult, tragic lives.  I am privileged that they feel comfortable enough to share the details with me.  They may appear to ‘laugh it off’ but it is no laughing matter…..Laughing is just their way…..

At high school this week I have had the chance to teach some interesting lessons.  Let me explain…  As part of English composition I have been introducing them to creative writing – “imaginative compositions” their textbooks call them here.  It is part of their curriculum (syllabus) but as Ronald the English teacher tells me (a wise and forward-thinking man) most teachers run out of time and skip it.  As a result the students have had very limited opportunity to make up and write their own stories.  I have been trying – and it has been a challenge.  A challenge for me to explain what I mean by a ‘made up story’ and a challenge for them to dream, wonder and use their imaginations while writing.  There is no right or wrong answer – a new concept for them all, but one we (the English teacher and I) know is so important.  It’s been fun to see them starting to enjoy it.

The principal also asked if I would spend some time with each class doing a bit of guidance and life skills.  This is the local secondary school, funded partially by the government and populated by students whose marks or finances wouldn’t allow them to be accepted into better schools.  Violence, alcohol and drug use, sex, pregnancy and HIV/AIDS, early marriage –  you name it, these students (and their teachers) are dealing with it.  He asked if perhaps I could share with the students and motivate them to make better choices.  All in two or three lessons?  My first reaction was to say ‘no, sorry’.  But I couldn’t do that.  Instead I  wondered what difference I could possibly make.  Anyway, this week I began, focussing not on the do’s and dont’s of behaving (obedience and discipline are a bit deal here) but on their own self-image, self worth and future goals and the things that help and hurt these.  The students have responded really well – it may not make a difference in theiir daily behaviour but I am praying that perhaps I have planted a few seeds that with time may grow.  I’ll never know….

Education certainly is the key to a better future – for these individual students and for the community as a whole.  I was happy this week to have been able to contribute some funds to Kiamabundu Secondary School where I am volunteering.  For a comparably small amount of money from Home of Grace (about $25 was needed to clear each student’s outstanding school fee balance) it will now be possible for some capable, highly motivated Form Four students (grade 12) to stay in school and go on to write their final examinations.  The diploma they will receive in the end will allow their future to be that much brighter.  Feels good….!

So – a few more random thoughts from this week….

Have you ever wondered what happens to all those clothes at Value Village that never get sold?  Now I know!!  Saturday we purchased a bale of used clothing.  45 kilograms of it, size medium.  I spent the morning going through the children’s existing clothing, throwing out and burning the ripped and torn ones.  (These kids are tough on clothes….no question about it!)  Then, Edina and I spent the afternoon sorting through the new bale (don’t even get me started on what these cast-off clothes tell us and them about North Americans!) and then had fun watching the kids try them on, so excited to have new clothes without holes or rips.

My favourite is Shadrack (the one child here with very obvious ‘special needs’) who, ever since Saturday, proudly wears a very ‘smart’ looking vest over his clothes – we now call him “Little Pastor”.  (Reminds me a bit of one of our own sons who, at a similar age, went through a vest, bow tie and suit jacket phase – he will remain nameless….)  Maxwell thinks it would make a great youtube video.  Edina thinks Shadrack will be a future Kenyan Finance Minister….. more laughter….!

Finally, Monday was a first.  After being here two months, it was the first time one of the children was hurt.  Amos cut his finger quite badly while playing outside.  This to me is amazing.  Thirty children.  Little supervision.  Rocks, trees, steep hills, mis-sized and broken shoes, you name it…. (It just goes to show that perhaps our North American vigilance has the opposite effect of causing more injuries than it prevents.   The administration at my school in Milton mey may never trust me to do proper recess duty again.)

As you can likely imagine, first aid is a little different here.  While I would have been quick to get him off to the hospital for stitches, here Edina and Benta swung into action of a different kind.   Sprinkled salt on it (ouch!), bandaged it up (using those fancy bandages from the Canadian first aid kit!), gave him some medicine for the pain, let him sleep, checked it the next day for swelling and considered a tetanus shot.  The result?  Today Amos is fine.  No trip to the hospital was necessary.  (maybe tomorrow?)

So there you have it.  Random events.  A random update.  Maybe I’ll be more coherent next week!

Until the next time,
Cathy