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I was reminded that the audience for our blog is much larger then I always think it is. This entry was something I wrote and posted on Facebook, and it fits into the purpose of our blog as well, so I thought I would share. I find it really tough putting myself out there, and writing about things important to me and then putting them out into cyberspace where anyone has access, this blog has gained a broad audience. This trip is such a learning experience full of paradigm shifts and realizations about myself and the world. I don't pretend to know better then anyone else, or be an expert in any of the subjects I write about. I am just sharing some of the beautiful and tough things I have been witness to, and some of my own brain manifestations. Take them or leave them or change them as you will, one of the best parts of humanity is that everyone thinks, feels, acts, believes, problem solves, grieves, experiences, and exists differently and we are all here to share with each other. And a little shout out to the lady at the bank, the kids working the cash register at the Vans store, Wawa Joe, the guy at CVS, and all the other random people who asked for the link to the blog that last week when I was running around frantically. Whether or not you ended up reading this, thanks for being excited about our trip, it means a lot, and it's cool how it expands our world even the slightest. (I know I speak for Kira too.) Love to all our friends and family reading as well, it makes home feel a bit closer to know you can hear a bit about this crazy few months. ANYWAY-
First of all, I have learned that I will never be able to take myself seriously while wearing a headlamp, even in a black out in Africa. Secondly, something I've learned about travel and experiencing new cultures is that you can never be fully prepared, and there is always more going on then I know to look for, so it's best to just be open and ready, fully letting go of control and becoming a sponge to the world. That way you see, smell, hear, and feel more, and I'm so grateful for this realization. Kenya itself is a force of nature. From the moment I stepped off the plane onto the dusty red earth, things have worked differently. The weather fluctuates drastically and nothing happens as planned. Everything is more organic, there is an ebb and flow to the market place, a natural momentum to daily life. Time is an illusion, an estimate. Likewise, the people I've met are forces of nature, from the tiny women carrying giant sacks of potatoes on their heads, to the teachers with fervent concern and care for each student. But these kids are the ones teaching me the most, making the world feel more in sync. They have reminded me to get busy living. And made me remember that there's nothing better then feeling thoroughly exhausted after a day of doing something you love. One of the orphans grew up a delinquent street kid, following a path towards a life of crime in order to survive, but he was taken in and has turned his life around completely, just yesterday I watched him graciously receive an award for being the top of his class. It's incredible to witness first hand the power of human connection and how all it takes is just one person to care. Samson and different members of the community here are the sole reason half these kids are even alive. They've shown the uncanny amount of bravery it takes to be selfless, and I am humbled to be witness to it. Sickness seems almost inevitable in a new country. We're not used to the food, the water, the air. Our immune systems are different and often sickness just happens. We've been incredibly lucky to have made it through the first two weeks without any problems, but on Sunday I woke up with a bad sore throat and by that night felt feverish. On Monday, we took a trip to a doctor in Kisii town to make sure it wasn't anything serious. As usual, I don't know what I was expecting but the clinic we walked into was far from anything I could've imagined. Straight off a small crowded street through a wide open door, across from a tiny shop with "wal mart" painted on the wall, the waiting room consisted of a few ragged benches and hand written signs advertising the availability of just about anything including HIV/Aids tests, typhoid vaccines, and women's clothing for sale. Another door led into a room with a desk and disheveled shelves of medication and around the corner was another desk, a cot, and a table covered in lab equipment. The doctor, a nice Indian man who has daughters working in America and who Samson seemed to know well, took a malaria test just to be safe, and a women examined it through a microscope right behind me (it was negative). The doctor looked down my throat and decided that it was just a really bad case of strep throat, just as Cailin had diagnosed that morning. He gave me a huge injection (it was sterile, Cailin double checked and watched his every move), followed with antibiotics and painkillers, told me not to get worked up about it more times than I could count, followed every time with "this could be really really bad" then charged 1800 kSh (about $20) for the whole visit and sent us on our way making sure we knew that even if we had no money to come see him if we felt sick again. Especially after spending $200 on a visit to a walk-in clinic in America to have a prescription written the week before I left, I couldn't quite believe the kindness of the doctor and that it only cost $20. The whole visit was very surreal and I am very grateful for medical professionals, and Cailin who was there to actually do all the thinking and persistent questioning for me when I was just concentrating on bracing myself for feeling like I had knives in my throat every time I swallowed. The last few days have mostly started to blur together. It's been a lot of restless sleeping and trying to not read all the books we bought in town in one week. Having strep is taking me back to being in middle school when I got it several times. It was always a nice excuse to spend a few days on our couch with all my favourite blankets, a never ending supply of my favourite lemon honey tea, and all my favourite DVDs. Needless to say, this experience has been a bit different from that and home seems very far away. I've been so well taken care of and I'm so grateful for Samson and his family. And even when I can barely talk and can hardly think, Cailin has looked after my every need and kept me sane. There sure are some wonderful people in this world. Being sick is all the more frustrating when I really want to be working and making it to the orphanage every day and experiencing this place. Today I'm feeling much better, and I know that this will pass and then life can get back on track. I'm glad Cailin has been able to keep up with the work at the orphanage, and we do what we can from home. This trip won't be without it's challenges, and this is just one of them. “We welcome you to come and sit up here, Madam Kira and Madam Cailin” ...Up where? In front of the whole school? Yep. Groggy and slightly slap happy from lack of sleep we took our honored seats up in front of the entire school for their closing ceremonies. Kenyan schools go all year round with several two week long breaks. Today was the beginning of a break so they had a full school assembly in place of classes. So we had better-then-front-row seating as each teacher read out the three students at the top of their respective classes. The students would humbly walk to the front of the school to receive an award for placing highest on the exams and then the whole school would clap for them in different patterns led by one of their teachers. Then all the teachers stood and gave a short message to the school, each introducing the next teacher, the cycle got to Rev. Samson, the Director of the school. He in turn introduced me, and I had to improv a quick little speech for the kids, and then Kira had to do the same. Africa sure likes to keep you on your toes, whether it’s being stranded for five hours due to a giant rain storm, or having to be prepared to speak to almost 300 students. We are not short for adventures here. After the assembly I had made it my mission to get to know Annah, one of the girls who still needs a partial sponsorship. I found her and we made our way around the compound, she showed me her classroom and where she likes to sit, then took me to her room in the rented dormitories. She was so friendly and bright, offering up information about herself without any prodding. She grabbed my hand and showed me a crinkled piece of yellow paper. “When you see my sponsor, tell them that I am ninth in my class!” She practically exploded with pride as she shoved her report card towards me. On our way Eunice cheerfully greeted me, and Dolphine and Hyline also fell into step with us, grabbing my arms and hands and smiling as they proudly showed that they remembered my name, even if I still couldn’t quite get all of theirs. We collected about 15 other kids on our walk to Annah’s room. The girls were so excited to show me their beds and tell me who their bunk mate was. The tiny little rooms housed between 2 and 4 bunk beds, each with 2 girls to a bed. Their things were stuffed in tiny cubbyholes, down the sides of the mattresses, and lining the rafters. They have no room for even their small amount of belongings. But the state of the rooms made it apparent that lots of happy, hardworking girls lived there. The girls all began to test me about their names, memory is not my strong suit, and when I had no idea I would throw out some obscure name and the girls would erupt into contagious sidesplitting laughter and we would all have to catch our breath before I continued with the name test. Suddenly Dorothy appeared “Ohh I’ve finally found you” apparently there was something going on and I was needed back at the offices. She laughed as she explained how searching for me felt exactly like when she had to search for one of the orphans. We arrived at the offices and I stepped into a much more formal meeting then I was expecting. I felt like I was back in high school, showing up to class late, and giving some lame excuse. I apologized as I quickly took the nearest empty seat, “Sorry, I was playing with the orphans and learning their names over at the dorms” I think that is a pretty solid excuse. Should’ve tried that one back in high school. During the meeting Kira and I officially met all the teachers, and then sat through their entire board meeting, ...in Swahili. It was nice though, it gave us the chance to study the charts on the walls and learn about the school day in more detail, and about which teachers taught which grades. Part of our work is to interview each of the teachers about the students performance in class. The rest of the day was an energetic blur. It all started with us taking photos of the kids, which quickly turned into them taking photos of each other. They loved when we would show them photos of our families or where we lived. They would “ooh and ahh” when I showed them a picture of my living room, smiling and complimenting me on how “smart” and “soft” it looked. My heart was exploding as they all took turns taking my phone and directing a group shot where at least ten kids would be squishing into the photo and hugging me so hard from all directions that I almost fell over. Kira was experiencing the same thing with another group of kids who had just discovered how to take selfies on her phone. From there the kids happily pulled us into the backyard where we played loads of circle games with singing, running, clapping, and dancing. The first game was a name game where once your name was chanted into the song, you were up next to go dance in the middle of the circle. I learned quickly by being one of the first ones pushed into the center of the circle and having to dance on beat with their clapping and singing. They games are so lively, all of them take part. Those that weren’t dancing and clapping were teaching Kira some more competitive form of monkey in the middle. We must’ve learned at least 5 new games this afternoon. And when Kira and I climbed into the blue van, out of the hot sun, the kids weren’t ready to say goodbye. Before we knew it over half the orphanage had squeezed into the little blue van and the temperature rose at least 10 degrees with all the happy, laughing kids packed like sardines against us. Samson chuckled and leaned towards me, “they wanted to go to Ogembo!” he said. We weren’t sure what that meant.. were they coming up to the apartment with us? were they coming to walk around town? Either way the little blue van with almost 50 passengers started up and we were off, bumping along like a clown car towards Ogembo. Once we arrived at the apartment, the kids cascaded out of the van, practically tumbling over each other, unfolding out into the fresh air. We hopped out, and puzzled, watched all the kids squeeze right back into the van. We then realized that they had all squeezed in, JUST to drop the two of us off at home. The van sounded like a cheerful birthday party on wheels as they rolled away, tons of arms waving furiously at us out the windows. I love it here. So many of my friends warned me "don't get Ebola" before I left for Kenya. It almost became a joke. I always assured them that it was in west Africa and we were going to east Africa. I took the threat seriously, the stories on the news were so sad. but honestly no part of me was at all concerned, My brain just didn't let it be a real possibility. Today the reality of the threat hit Kira and I when we were watching a news anchor covering the recent developments in the Ebola situation. They showed all the big scary facts: "one of the deadliest diseases in the world", "no cure", "90% death rate". And they showed clips of fully protected workers screening incoming travelers at the Nairobi airport that we had flown into only weeks before. They explained how Kenya is a stage 2 country because of the high threat and imminent risk of Ebola outbreak. Stage 1 are countries with the Ebola epidemic and stage 3 are countries without high concern for contamination. Watching this really drove the reality of the situation home. It's terrifying in one sense, but the country is taking every precaution to avoid exposure. Chances are it won't even happen while were here. And if it does come technically our safety is compromised and we would have to leave. The US embassy will alert us, we will have to move our flight up and leave before the risk of infection grows. A week ago we would have been really sad to leave, but we would've been able to get over it and be okay if not slightly happy with going home early ...But now I can't imagine leaving, it would feel 110% wrong for us to swoop out, while everyone we love here is left to pray they do not get infected. Pondering over the possibilities has given us an incredible view into how volunteers have felt in many situations where they have been evacuated because their safety is seemingly more important then the natives. It brings into perspective things like when the volunteers had to leave Rwanda during the genocide. It's been a real paradigm shift for me, I feel how difficult these situations are on a visceral level. It has shed light on the uncanny amount of bravery it takes to be selfles.. The strange dichotomy between self preservation and not holding your safety and value above others.. And on a less cosmic scale, it's shown how exceedingly grateful and happy we are to be here; we are settled and doing work that feels useful. We knew we were content here, but having to be aware of the real possibility of leaving early has helped us truly grasp how entirely we want to be here and helped us remember to soak in each day as much as humanly possible. I don't know why or how it took us two days to look out the window in our room. But both of us at separate times pulled the curtain aside and stared dumbfounded at the gorgeous view. We were feeling a bit low and realizing we were in the middle of this beautiful African countryside lifted our spirits. Not sure what we were expecting, but it sure wasn't this.
Yesterday we attended our first church service at the New Church in Etora. The whole thing was about 3 hours long and the service was in both English and Swahili (which we later found out was so that we would be sure to feel included in their congregation). There was singing from groups of the kids and lots of hymns, which were surprisingly easy to catch on to, despite them all being in Swahili. Samson introduced us at the end of the service and had the whole church laughing describing our trip back to Ogembo from the Kisumu airport on our first night here. The community is clearly very closely bonded, and we felt very welcomed in, especially as every single person FIRMLY shook our hand on the way out the door. Today was our first day working at the school. It was exciting to wake up knowing that things were going to start moving forward, and we were going to get the chance to start the work we came here to do. Having the week off to rest and get used to being here was definitely needed and appreciated, but it feels so good to dive into our to-do list. We got to the school around 10, after our morning tea and the short, bumpy ride in the tireless blue van. The red brick classrooms were full of eager eyed students, and we could hear their lessons as we arrived. After a short conversation with Rev. Samson about the list of work we have to do for HCIC, Cailin and I set up in the church to start our work. The main purpose of our trip is do work that will help HCIC (Helping Children in Crisis) continue to provide and support the Sacred Care Orphanage, which is run by Rev. Samson. The task list is long, but we have a long time to accomplish everything, and it feels like a challenging, yet do-able job. Throughout the course of the day I was going back and forth between feeling like we will never get everything done, and not having enough work to do, which probably means its going to be just about right. Our work is divided into 3 main categories. The most important one is working with the children. HCIC has been collecting information on each child so that they can communicate with sponsors and keep records of all the children who are at the orphanage. We are completing these information sheets, filling in the holes and trying to help create an accurate picture of each of these amazing children. This also included taking photos and videos to be able to communicate and show what daily life is like so that we can present a well-rounded picture of the work that HCIC and the Sacred Care Orphanage is doing. This also includes our own interaction with the kids, which is by far the most fun and definitely the part I’m most looking forward to. We are all still a bit shy around each other, but the timid waves and bright smiles peering out from behind doorways and window frames puts a smile on my face every time. We are also going to be spending time working on helping HCIC and the orphanage put together an exit plan. They have several high school students, and a few orphans that have already graduated, and a system needs to be in place to sustainably and realistically be able to continue support so that the kids can have the means they need to excel and succeed after they turn 18. Another piece of our work is communicating our experiences and the incredible work that is being done here to everyone back home. There are still children without sponsors, and one of our goals is to get at least 8 sponsorships, if not all. We will be giving presentations and talks about our trip, and our hope is to be able to share the amazing stories and the strength of both the children themselves and the people who tirelessly and happily work to better the lives of these children. We started on this list of tasks today by interviewing the high school kids. They are on break for the next month, so it was easy for us to gather them up and talk to them one at a time. They were shy and sweet, and it was good challenge in communication. Most of them have pretty good English, but combine that with talking about your hopes and dreams with two strangers from America and it was not surprising that they were sometimes timid, I was actually feeling a bit nervous for them. There were a few clear themes that I noticed, which said a lot about the values they have been taught. Education was a top priority. We had to start asking for something that made them happy outside of school, after getting the answer “passing my exams” every time. Each one had high hopes for getting to go to university, becoming a doctor to help people who are suffering, a lawyer to help those who are unequally represented, or a teacher to help other people learn. They all had sincere messages of thanks to their sponsors for their support and for the opportunities they were getting because of it. Reading the backstories full of violence and poverty and abuse, and then meeting the loving, compassionate, smiling people who have emerged on the other end was inspiring and powerful, and was a good reminder how much of a difference a couple of open hearted people who are willing to care for others can make. I’m looking forward to a week of growth and of learning, and hopefully plenty of clapping games. I only hope that this work will benefit the lives of these kids at least half of how I know it will benefit me. Being around such incredible hard working, compassionate, loving people has already taught and inspired me so much, and my admiration for the strength of this community is growing every day. Well, we’ve made it through a week. It already seems like we’ve been here for a long time, and I get that feeling of about almost being home every time we drive up the road towards Ogembo and first see the clustered buildings and the busy marketplace. I don’t know if I have ever looked forward to meeting anyone more then I had looked forward to meeting the kids from the Sacred Care Orphanage. We had been here in Kenya for almost a week, and as wonderful as it has been so far, I have just been aching to interact with these kids. So yesterday, when we found ourselves sliding off chairs, slamming into the windows and bumping along down the road in the little blue van, Kira and I could barely contain our excitement. The road from Ogembo to Etora is relatively short, bending through the town out past road side ‘vendors’, assorted churches, and into small farming communities. Once we arrived at the school, Dorothy gave us a tour. The school is one long raised building, half finished, empty square brick rooms, red earth floors, each containing a blackboard and some desks. She showed us the church building, and what will be her families house. Then we walked back up towards fields of tea, stopping by the little brick kitchen and meeting two of the cooks, Lazarus and Alice. We were then met by Samson behind all the buildings and he explained the plan for building the orphanage, and finishing the other school buildings. As we were picturing the floor plan for the 60 person orphanage, a trickle of shy but extremely excited faces started to emerge from behind the kitchen. Mary, the dorm mother had gathered all the kids and brought them to meet us. They stood several feet away in a clump, smiling and staring, but averting their eyes as soon as our gaze met theirs. Samson gave us the most beautiful introduction, he elicited such respect, speaking much too highly of us with the kindest introduction, while simultaneously making the kids laugh and feel at ease. Then Kira and I got to speak to them briefly before they had to run off and do their washing in the river. You can tell these kids have been through so much, and are so strong and resilient. They smile so sweetly, and listen obediently. They obviously adore Samson, and he is incredible with them. He absolutely came to life when speaking to the kids. And he speaks of them with such care, his entire heart is with these kids and this church and school. He does SO much, so much, it would take an entire blog post to explain all that Samson manages to fit into a day. But he doesn’t complain, he does what he feels is right, and he is a savior for all these orphans, and an obvious light in so many people’s lives.
We went down with Dorothy to watch the kids do their wash in the river, it is amazing how hard-working and disciplined the kids are, they make washing clothes in a muddy brown river look enjoyable. We began to introduce ourselves to each of the kids as they would pass us, starting to try and memorize their names. That’s going to be a feat itself. Dorothy, like Samson, adores these kids. She said “I know it is not in the near future, we have so much work still to be done, but sometime in the future my dream is to be able to afford a washing machine for the kids.” Her heart is so genuine and giving, and the seemingly simple request was powerful to hear. My washer at home has been broken for the past few months, hearing her speak about a washing machine as if it was the highest honor to own one really smacked some perspective into me. If there is one thing I have learned from visiting developing countries, it is about the importance of gratitude and perspective. These incredible little humans live with so little, so so happily. There are 64 orphans, ages 8 through 18 and I can not wait to get to know every single one of them. Leaving the kids yesterday made us so excited to officially begin our work as interns for HCIC. Driving back in the little blue van my mind was flashing each of their big bright smiles into my stream of consciousness. Kira and I kept exchanging glances, so excited that we are lucky enough to be here. Our normally 8 minute drive home always ends up turning into at least 15. The driver, David, knows everyone in town. Whenever we drive through town we become a community bus, pulling over constantly to pick up another friend of Davids, or a friend of a friend. Everyone squishes in like a clown car, and then we begin dropping them off along the way home. He waves at the police officers we pass on the way to school every day, honks hello to passing cars, and stops to chat with different people in the town. Samson is the same way, they are so friendly. There is no sense of urgency, no rush, time moves as it needs to. They know they will get where they are going, and they enjoy the ride and people along the way. I like imagining David driving in New York City. Whenever we leave the house everyone stares. I don’t think staring is rude here. Either that, or we are just the absolute strangest thing they have ever seen. All the kids yell ‘Mzungu’ which is White Person in Swahili. Sometimes they yell it in wonderment, sometimes it’s passed along in whispers to one another, and sometimes they yell it, waving, trying to get our attention. It’s strange how okay it is for them to yell that. We take no offense to it, it’s just interesting thinking how that would go over in America, or if the roles were reversed. But the cultures are so strikingly different, it’s almost incomparable. And honestly, it’s pretty darn cute that every kid wants to say hi to us. I want to talk to each of them, so the feeling is mutual. A few days ago we went to Kisii town. It is a bigger city and is always so interesting seeing the weird meshing of cultures. People are either wearing quintessential african cloth or a business suit, or a combination. Some women are wrapped in traditional garb carrying baskets on their heads, some in smartly ironed suits carrying briefcases, while others wear mismatched decade clothing; YOLO hats, gators shirts (got lots of Florida fans over here in Kenya), hard rock cafe T-shirts... It’s funny what comes over from America. Some friends and people we are close to have gotten malaria while we have been here. Luckily it is easier to treat now, and the medicine is helping. But it reminds me how our mosquito net is our best friend. Every night I lay there in our little blue mesh tent, feeling so grateful for it. Luckily we haven’t seen many mosquitos in our room. So far we have killed one already dead mosquito, so I think our track record is pretty good so far. We are so excited about being here, we are feeling well adjusted and rarely feeling homesick. We have so much more to share, but it will have to wait until tomorrow, I’m falling asleep at the keyboard, WHICH is extremely exciting because we rarely fall asleep before 3 or 4. Our sleep cycles refuse to adapt to Kenya time. It’s getting pretty obvious that I’m sleep deprived... I keep spelling things wrong (not abnormal) and I asked Kira if my computer was autocorrecting to Kenyan English instead of American English... (definitely abnormal) Otherwise, all is well on this side of the world, hope everyone at home is doing well! *Key to the places we often mention:* Ogembo: the town where Samson and his family live, where we are staying Kisii: the closest big main town with bigger markets and stores Etora: where the Kenyan New Church is, same grounds as the Sacred Care Orphanage (currently orphans are staying in rented rooms) and Good News Preparatory School (New Church school where orphans go and local community kids) This is the site where most of our work will be done. “CLICK HERE for a GUARANTEED 2 year USA work visa” these neon words are flashing on my screen, and on the sidebar... “Do you want a lifetime American green card?!” No thanks google, turns out I won’t be needing either of those. Even the pop-ups on my computer are a constant reminder of how different of a world we are living in, and how far we are from home... Although ads like that are common, and some people do believe they will have a better life if they make it over to America, most people are totally content with their lifestyle. If they are not, moving to America isn’t their solution. We come from America where so many people think so many other countries of the world want to be like us or hold us on some sort of pedestal, and while I am so thankful that I live in such a free country, I feel so blessed to have travelled and seen the reality of America’s idolatry. To some cultures we are freedom and control crazed, to others we are cheeseburger eating fatties, and to many we are just that place where that one friend went to that one school. Here in Kenya, their standard of living is much lower then the average Americans, but there isn’t a feeling that something is lacking. There is something strong and appealing about living a more minimalist and simplistic lifestyle. The amount of ‘stuff’ you own really does have the power to dictate over the rest of your life if you let it.
Kira and I sat together cross legged under our mosquito net the second night we were here and realized how a huge theme of this trip is letting go of all control and expectations. That is the only way to remain sane, and survive in such different surroundings; it is the only way to fully appreciate it here. There is so much value in becoming fully immersed in an entirely new culture. It’s overwhelming in all the best ways, and simultaneously the loneliest you will ever feel. There are moments when all you can do is sit, frozen, it feels like your chest is ripping open and everyone you’ve ever known can see every single flaw and vulnerability you have. It feels like home is lightyears away and ten weeks is a century. These moments happen, no matter how strong you are, how much you believe in the work you are doing, everything is foreign. Isolation and fear is part of the experience, It’s important to breathe into these moments, let yourself freak out. These moments always pass. And the more you are able to let go, the more you are able to fully embrace the beauty in the poverty and appreciate even the strangest and most foreign experiences. It’s funny how you find comfort in the strangest things. Neither Kira or I are huge fans of soda, but for some reason having Orange Fanta with dinner the other night was the most incredible experience. It was the best damn Orange Fanta I have ever had. Dorothy, the eldest daughter has been showing us around town for the past couple days. She is such a sweetheart, so honest and kind. Her smile alone makes you feel comfortable. She tells us about the town, teaching us how to get around and if we get lost to: “never tell anyone you are lost”. She is gentle but quick to tell us what to do. She likes having us here because she loves being able to tell someone what to do, and my goodness we appreciate having someone help us out. She isn’t bossy in the slightest, just an excellent guide. And she still likes us even after we practically forced her to go home the most difficult way possible, up a steep hillside, just because we wanted to see the view. Dorothy kept telling us how much they love white people here in Ogembo. When she told us that we thought maybe we were just an unusual sight. But once every single pair of eyes in the town was looking at us, and every child was giggling or running up to say hello... then we believed her. It’s funny, being treated like you’re famous when you feel like the most average joe there ever was. But it’s beautiful meeting them all, having your hand grabbed by an old lady who is forcing you to tell her your name is strangely endearing. Remember when you were a kid and you would visit somewhere else and start to notice differences? The light-switch at your cousins house is different, or the trees on vacation have no branches to climb like the ones at home. That is how it feels here, the differences are so captivating and yet I know soon it will feel normal. You only eat rice, potatoes, and noodles. You brush your teeth with water from a water bottle. You go grocery shopping by walking through the streets and buying what you need off different peoples’ blankets. The town is so alive. People are lining the streets, selling, shopping, or just visiting. An occasional car or motorbike kicks up the red earth, driving down over the muddy river towards Kisii town. Everything is so green. Dorothy told us that this region grows a lot of food for the country and this was evident as we walked through many different fields. The earth smells so full, it’s richer and warmer to the nose then American farms. All the buildings are rickety and broken down, but they do not make the town feel unsafe. The buildings are just not there to impress, you don’t judge the quality of the company or store based on its cleanliness or appearance. It’s all about the people and what they are offering. To find a SIM card for Kira’s phone we didn’t just walk into a store and pick out one that looked good, or find the best price. It’s by word of mouth. Dorothy would walk around and ask where was the best place to find the SIM card we needed. Someone would tell her one place, she would go there and be told somewhere else. Everything is more organic, there is an ebb and flow to the market place. These past few days have been wonderful. Samson is forcing us to take it easy, he is so glad we have lots of time to finish our work so we can fully adapt to the climate and the time zone. Having the time to rest and get settled has been exactly what we needed, and yet we can not wait to meet the kids at the orphanage. Every day we get more and more excited to finally get to the orphanage and get started on the work we came here to do. |