In 5 days we’ll be flying over that great big ocean and back to the world of grey pavement, pine trees, and hot showers. We’ll exchange the red roads and orange bricks for the brilliant colours of the trees during Fall, and the wandering cows and goats for squirrels and deer.
Time is a funny thing. Cailin and I talk way too much about how long we’ve been here, how short the time is we have left, and how we interpret it all with each passing day. Since we reached our two thirds mark, the weeks have been flying by. Its strange to think back to the majority of the time we’ve been here, when each week seemed to go as slow as could be. It seems a bit unfair that now that we’re completely settled and happy here, time is racing. A week is not enough time. Leaving seems impossible, its incomprehensible that this life we’ve made for ourself in this beautiful, different, challenging place is just going to end. How does everyday end if not with a rainstorm? How do we get from place to place without motorbikes and matatus always passing by? What is it like to pass a schoolyard of children and have no one yell and wave? Life back in North America seems almost as distant and mysterious as this place did when we boarded an airplane 9 weeks ago.
This past week was really incredible. Counting down the days has forced me to really appreciate each one, and every moment has become that much more precious when I remember how few we have left. Friday was my birthday, and everything about it felt so right. Apparently its a Kenyan tradition to dump water on a person if they can’t celebrate their birthday properly, so of course Cailin and Dorothy had to honour that, surprising me when I was outside in front of the apartment building with a huge bucket of freezing cold water. The day was completed with an eventful motorbike ride in a torrential downpour, some clapping games in a dark and damp classroom, and all my favorite Kenyan food for each meal. I was so taken aback by the outpouring of love. I’ve never thought of my birthday as a big deal, but it always does seem to be a really good day. There’s something about taking the opportunity to be aware of how incredible life is, and noticing all the little gestures that can speak volumes. It was a good reminder of how much I have to be grateful for.
Monday was Dorothy’s birthday, and as a present to her we made dinner. She had been asking for us to make “American food” for them for a while, so we tackled the challenge of making grilled cheese, tomato soup, and apple pie. The supermarket in Kisii town surprisingly had everything we needed including apples (which almost had us in tears in the middle of the store). It was a pretty surreal experience. They have never used the oven, all the food they cook just uses the stove and dessert doesn’t exist here. Cailin made an incredible apple pie that was more successful than we ever could have hoped for. We had to light the oven with a match and guess at the temperature, flames shooting out from the top. The whole family was taken aback by the meal. Photos were being taken at every angle and Dorothy could barely believe it. It was nice to give back a little bit. This family has done so much for us. They have welcomed us so warmly into their home, feeding us incredible food, and making sure we always have whatever we need. Dorothy has been our guide, teacher, and best friend and it felt so good to be able to honour her and treat her to something a little bit special.
Spending time with the kids has been simultaneously fulfilling and heart breaking. The fact that we have to leave is always looming over our time together and the more I think about it the more I’m sure it just can’t happen. On Tuesday the weather was beautiful so we all went out behind the school to jump rope and throw the frisbees. It quickly turned into an afternoon of hilarious photos, headstands, and all sorts of games as a few of the kids got their hands on our camera and phones. Its gotten to the point where communication isn’t even a challenge anymore. So much can be communicated with laughter, funny faces, and hand gestures and every day it seems like we all grow so much closer. Cailin started doing headstands, and quickly a whole group of kids had joined in, another group crowded behind the camera taking photos of everything. Everyone started calling Beckham’s name to make sure he didn’t miss out because he has been doing headstands ever since he saw photos of it on her phone weeks ago. He was beyond excited to see a photo of them headstanding together. Even as storm clouds filled the sky and the wind picked up, everyone continued running around. We taught them a few other yoga poses, and everyone joined in, excited to try backbending or tree pose, helping out each other and laughing hysterically, smiles stretched across their faces the entire time. Vanis grabbed my hand to pull me along on a game where everyone runs in a giant circle, avoiding the person in the middle who tries to hit people with a ball (which was actually something heavy all wrapped up in a plastic bag). At another point Annah collected all the jump ropes and asked me to take her back to the office so she could put them away for us. David and Samson were dedicated to taking photos with my phone, taking a picture of a group of us and then running over to show everyone. Shilley was running around, pretending to take photos with his watch. Every time I bought into the joke he would break his straight face and laugh hysterically with a high pitched giggle. When it was finally time for us to leave, they all waved goodbye, giving me high fives and replying to my “see you tomorrow!” I can’t get enough of these kids. Its the simple things, the small gestures, the smiles, the giggles, the hands grabbing mine or pushing me in to play a jump rope game or wrapping around my waist for a picture. Its the funny faces and the excitement of looking at a photo of their friends and the enthusiasm to be around us and around each other. Their happiness and love is contagious. Everyday on the way back to our home in Ogembo, bumping up and down on the seats of the blue van, passing the now familiar sights of matatus, motobikes, people, brick houses and wooden market stalls, I feel still surrounded by the warmth and excitement of our time hanging out with the kids. It’s a feeling of contentment and awe for the world, and Cailin and I often find ourselves talking in circles about how wonderful those few hours were for the rest of the evening and into the night.
This week is the beginning of the lasts. Our last full week, our last trip to Kisii-town, our last Wednesday. Its only going to get harder and time is only going to go faster and the lasts will only start to get more final. The changes ahead seem ominous and challenging, but if we’ve learned anything from this trip it is to let go and let life happen as it will. The only thing we can do is keep looking for the joy and beauty that constantly surrounds us in the smallest and most unlikely of places.