These are the short dreams that filled my mind with savory sensations last night.
The jaunt about the cities.
I was walking, not with any purpose at all mind you, but just ambling down the half-filled city streets at dusk. I was wrapped up warm and tight, nestled in my softest scarf and thickest mittens. I was surrounded and jostled at times by laughing friends. I took a moment however, just a moment, to remove myself from their glee and notice the warm glow cast by the streetlights lining the snow-dusted sidewalk, adorned with wreaths and big red Christmas bows. The naked trees weren't so naked with their bright white lights all twisted around the bare branches which cast their light and warmth into the coldest places of my heart. The flakes fell from the sky whose clouds reflected the glow of the lamps and lights which brightened the street even more. I watched the tiny, beautiful frozen crystals of water fall lazily, gracefully down from heaven, it seemed and felt them resting, then melting on my rosy cheeks. A an older couple across the street walked slowly arm in arm enjoying the same scenes that I was. Two of my friends grabbed hands and raced past me leaping with spunk and laughter. A father and his young daughter stand outside the next window we pass as we walk pointing to the stunning Christmas tree on display inside decorated with intricate ornaments, each picking their favorite. The next door swings open to reveal a small coffee shop, packed with people all enjoying soft carols and the wonderful smells that usually accompany such places wafted out to greet my chilled nose. The soft din of friendly conversations and more melodious laughter followed me as I passed the small cafe. Taking all of this in, I felt a soft and gentle peace settle in my heart, quietly though, just like the snowflakes settling themselves on my skin. I breathed deeply and closed my eyes, a smile playing on my lips, preserving this forever in my mind.
Cooking and company.
A friend and I get out of the warm car and scurry quickly through the heavily falling snow and icy cold into the warm, inviting store. Once inside, we take a quick glance around and I breathe in deeply, smelling the freshness of the vegetables and the distinctness of the spices. We grab a basket each, unzip our thick jackets and begin in aisle one, walking slowly, talking about this and that as we walk and look at all the healthy, organic foods around us (this is not your typical grocery store). We grab this and that and place them gently into our slowly filling baskets, dreaming of the final product that will be ours to devour soon. We laugh and joke and share with each other. Nearing the end of the final aisle, I remember two things I have forgotten and rush away to get them before we check out.
Getting home, we bring the bags of food into the warm and spacious kitchen, peel the layers off ourselves, leaving on our most comfortable jeans and soft sweaters, our wool socks too of course. We unload everything and put things in their proper places. The bottle of wine we purchased just looks too good so we uncork it and fill two glasses with the rosy liquid, cheers to each other, and enjoy the savory flavor as it slips over our tongues. We both open our eyes at the same time and smile at each other and giggle a bit in pleasure. I decide that we simply cannot continue without some grapes, bread, and cheese, so I plunge back into the stocked refrigerator and pull out the fancy cheese and grapes we had just purchased. My friend grabs the baguette and begins to slice it as I begin to fill a platter with cheese and grapes. We sit on wooden stools across the counter from each other and each indulge heartily in our perfect feast. We begin to talk and plan out the meal that is soon to fill the house with delicious and enticing smells and soon find that we cannot wait to get started any longer. She goes to turn on the soft Christmas carols in the background and I clear counter space and adorn the apron with the biggest, most gawdy Christmas tree on it and smile at my choice. We begin making the sauce first and chop loads of vegetables to put in and engage each other in conversation that only the best of friends, sisters really, can have with each other. Conversation that is based on a history of friendship and events and trials together and intimate knowledge of the other person and their personality, habits, desires, and so forth. The vegetables are poured into a bit pot with olive oil and the burner is turned on and they begin to sizzle and cook and emit their sensuous smells. We both stand over the stove together, taking turns stirring, enjoying the colorful medley we have concocted together. I tear myself away to begin preparing the other parts of the meal, for it's too soon to make the salad, I say. She leaves the simmering sauce as well and begins to set the table, placing two candles in the middle and cloth napkins beside every plate. Her mother wanders in and compliments the chefs and says what a pleasure it is to have me in her home once again, it has been too long, she ventures. I laugh and thank her, for I missed her as well. I find my way back to the sauce, stirring it lazily to prevent the blackening of the beautiful vegetables. I add some spices and casually tip the bottle of wine over the mixture, growing excited for the joyous meal. My friend cracks one of her dry jokes and I double over in laughter because they truly are awful, but I do love them so. A while later, the meal is finished and all laid out on the table. We call to her family and they saunter in, testing the limits of their pants at the sight of this feast before them. We stand together by the stunning and laden down table quite pleased with ourselves and the masterpiece we have created together. We introduce the meal and her family expresses their approval and eager desire to begin feasting. We all join hands and thank God for the blessings of friends, family, conversation, food, and beauty and ask him to bless our meal together. Then we all look up together, sit down, and feast. Glasses clink together, forks and knives chink on plates, and bowls of food thud on the wooden table as they are picked up and set down and passed around. We drift between silences where our mouths are all full with the most delicious food, it seems, that we all have ever tasted and moments of chatter and laughter. All the while the Christmas carols continue to serenade us in the background.
Tea.
The kettle on the stove screams out that it is ready and filled with boiling water, perfect for tea. I grab two giant mugs, the ones that someone needs both hands to hold, out of the cupboard and place them on the counter. I pick up the kettle and slowly pour the steaming water into the mugs and then quickly drop the tea balls into each and watch the color steeping from them, escaping as if from nowhere in the most sultry of ways. The steam rises lazily, but fascinatingly, from the surface of the water and I watch captivated by the small beauty of the scene. I pick up the cold spoon from the counter and stir each cup haltingly, not wanting to disturb the wisps of bright color still steeping from the tea balls. I remove both tea balls and set them in the sink and place the tea on a tray, already laden with fresh, homemade cookies and bring them into the living room where my dear friend awaits on the couch, staring out the half-snow covered window, as the snow storm rages in beauty outside. The fireplace in the corner emits crackles and pops and I grab the big, fuzzy blanket that was keeping my seat on the couch warm for me and wrap myself in it. I sit on the couch and lose myself in the softness, reach for my tea and a cookie and settle back, tucking my feet under my friend to keep them toasty warm. We each smell the calming and peaceful smells wafting from our cups of tea and face each other and smile. The conversation begins.
_________________________________________________________________
I woke this morning with peace in my heart and a smile on my face. I can't wait to come home!
29.11.09
jum[bled]
I'm in such a state of different feelings and emotions right now. I can't even describe or begin to untangle the different things that I"m feeling.
I've just come back from a [much needed] holiday on the coast of Kenya. I spent a week doing absolutely nothing but reading, sleeping, and relaxing in the sun and white sand beaches of Diani (just south of the port town of Mombasa). I stayed at a wonderful, all inclusive, beach resort filled with lots of elderly German people, most of which spoke no English (even the Kenyans spoke German). I didn't mind much-more time to be alone and not be bothered by exactly what I was trying to escape from: people. The past four months have been great yes, but also trying and taxing and wearing on my body, heart, mind, and soul. I am fatigued and exhausted and needed so much to get away. The week was perfect (except for the quite painful sunburn I attained-hey, I've never experienced sun on the equator before... Who knew?). Some highlights: I read "Long Walk to Freedom" by Nelson Mandela in preparation for South Africa-I have many thoughts on it and was quite surprised by my reaction to the book-I rode a camel on the beach: twice, I collected sea shells, I went to bed early and woke up when I wanted to, I went on a glass-bottomed boat, held a live starfish, walked and played on a sandbar, went snorkeling for the very first time, met a lovely Jehovas Witness Finnish couple whom I went snorkeling with again by ourselves, met a wonderful 70 year-old man from Munich who was short and stout. didn't speak much English, and whom I experienced the love and warmth of Jesus in, saw sea snakes, eels, nemos (clown fish), lion fish, angel fish, tons more pretty colored fish, starfish, sea urchins, coral, and lots of other incredible things while snorkeling, was given Aloe Vera by a very nice woman with an incredible and distinct laugh that was full of life who took pity on me and my sunburn, participated in water aerobics with a young Kenyan man and 5 other ancient German women who were so much fun to be around, although we didn't understand each other at all, delighted in a few glasses of wine poolside under the stars listening to the waves crash along the dark beach, spent time watching the miniature crabs scuttle side to side across the sand and in and out of their little holes, had a few close calls and one major loss of peanuts to a monkey, declared war on the geckos which insisted, no matter what I did upon being in my room at night, got dolled up for dinner every night just because I could, and completely ignored everything that I left behind and put it all out of my head for the week. I'm sure that was confusing to read through, but did constitute the majority of my week, I loved it and felt much better coming back to Nairobi and all that it currently holds for me.
I realized during the week that in the past few weeks of being here, I had lost my 'sparkle.' Throughout my time here, several people, one of my favorite Italian monks in particular always mentioned to me that my eyes were positively sparkling. Each time, I laughed and the light inside me burned a little brighter. :) But the past few weeks have been so full of conflict, stress, sickness, worry, and fatigue that my sparkle has dissipated. People would ask me how much sleep I had gotten because I looked terrible after waking up from a full 8 hours of sleep. I prayed, while I was away, for God to help me to find a way to ignite that sparkle again. By the end of the week because of prayer and the people I met and the experiences I had and the time away and the rest, I felt that the sparkle had reappeared, I could feel the light again. Coming back to Nairobi last night, I was, again, plunged into the same conflicts, the same stresses, the same worries, and spent the night not sleeping, but thinking a million miles a minute. I am struggling now to not let the little flame run into hiding once more.
I haven't blogged about this yet, but I decided to go home for Christmas. I've been away for 7 months now (I really can't count the two days in between San Fran and Kenya as anything...). Away from family, friends, and familiar places. The prospect of spending another 6 months or so on top of the 7 already away was a bit overwhelming especially since the plans of my traveling companions had also changed which would have left me alone in Africa for the better portion of a month. I made the decision quickly and am flying home on the 7th of December. I'll be there midday on the 8th. One week from tomorrow. I don't know if I've ever looked forward to anything this much. The prospect of being able to spend time being loved (in person!) and loving (again, in person) on my family and friends is one that I couldn't turn down. I've realized being away all this time how important loved ones are and how important 'home' is. I pride myself on my ability to create a home for myself wherever I currently happen to be, but have also realized that spending 3 months here, and 4 months there cannot replace the lifetime or the years spent with family or with friends. The people you call your family in these places are incredible and love you and all of that yes, but they don't truly know you the way the people from home do. Especially when you're in a different culture! I love Kenya and I love the people here, my family, but I am certainly more than ready to head home. I miss being around people who love me and who can show me that they love me! I miss being able to show the people I love that I love them in the ways that I know best. I'm needing the TLC and nurturing that comes from parents and best friends and tea and snuggling sessions. :) I am entirely confident that my decision will strengthen my relationships and nurse my body, mind, heart, and soul back to health as I am utterly broken and bone-tired at this point. I bet my 'sparkle' will be back before you know it too :)
So I'm leaving this place that I've lived for the past 4 months in just 7 days. All the people and places and things that have filled my time and my heart I will have to say good-bye to. I'll be back one day I'm sure but it's a bit sad to leave. Although I'm more than ready, my heart still twangs when Sister Theresita calls me her "Daughtie" (Daughter) and laughs the way she does and looks at me over the top of her glasses. I will sorely miss these dear people who have opened their hearts to me these past months. I will miss the leisurely pace of life here and the "Sawa" attitude.
I'm looking foreward to SNOW, and having tea with dear friends, and cooking and sharing meals with people, and visiting campus again, seeing my residents I never thought I'd miss but do incredibly much, going to student mass, going to Maine for Christmas with my Grandma and cousins, going to church at the Basilica, shopping for bridesmaids dresses with Kayla, spending time in the lovely Twin Cities, being 21! in the U.S., watching movies with my Dad, talking to my Mom, having wine and chocolate with Shannon and talking for HOURS, gossiping with Collin, catching up with the latest happenings in everyone's lives, and SO MUCH MORE! Just thinking about all of these things brings huge smiles to my face and tears of excitement and pure joy to my eyes. My heart skips and I can't help but believe that these things are only 7 days away!
I'm also listening currently to "Irresistible Revolution" by Shane Claiborne on my ipod. It also brings tears to my eyes when I hear him talk about his vision of the church and what being a follower of Christ and being a CHRISTIAN look like. It's something I yearn so much for and feel so called to that I don't know what to do with myself. It makes me think about my experiences working with the homeless this summer in San Fran and how powerful that was and the people I met there and the ways that I met God through the people and the experiences I had there. He's based in Philidelphia, yet another city with an overwhelming population of homeless. He worked with Mother Theresa in Calcutta. The tenderness and love with which he describes the people and the experiences and God is incredible. It's the way we were meant to live. I am so convinced. Although I still cannot call myself a Christian because of the Church and because of the people sitting next to me in church on Sundays (not all of them of course) who call themselves Christian but don't let their proclaimed "Christianity" interact with their daily life, thoughts, and actions, I feel like I could call myself one again one day. The Church needs a revolution, so many people I feel, are like me, and like Shane for that matter, and yearn for more, yearn to be better and yearn to be true Christians and followers of Christ. His message is incredible and I'm only a third of the way through the book!
My emotions are ridiculously conflicting... I'm a bit lost right now in the midst and tangle of them. I'm confused, conflicted, broken, hurt, and tired. But I'm excited, loved, passionate, blessed, and revitalized as well. I cannot push aside the brokenness and just focus on the positive as I am so tempted. God finds us and loves us in our brokenness and He is making Himself apparent to me through this struggle and challenge. He is challenging me to find love (both for myself and for others) and to follow Him and His Word, as extremely difficult as I am finding that challenge right now and as frustrated as I am with it, I know He is here with me guiding me and loving me.
I don't want this last week to be a "just hang on until it's over week." I want to do this week right and accept my challenges and try to overcome them. I want to savor these last days with these people and share in good company and memories. I want to tie up loose ends and make sure I leave regrets behind me. I want to give this last week all I've got left, no matter how tired or frustrated I may be, God and this place and these people deserve what I've got left.
Looking over all of this, it's such a jumble of everything--pretty much my head right now. It's helped a bit to write it out some-thanks for hanging on :)
I've just come back from a [much needed] holiday on the coast of Kenya. I spent a week doing absolutely nothing but reading, sleeping, and relaxing in the sun and white sand beaches of Diani (just south of the port town of Mombasa). I stayed at a wonderful, all inclusive, beach resort filled with lots of elderly German people, most of which spoke no English (even the Kenyans spoke German). I didn't mind much-more time to be alone and not be bothered by exactly what I was trying to escape from: people. The past four months have been great yes, but also trying and taxing and wearing on my body, heart, mind, and soul. I am fatigued and exhausted and needed so much to get away. The week was perfect (except for the quite painful sunburn I attained-hey, I've never experienced sun on the equator before... Who knew?). Some highlights: I read "Long Walk to Freedom" by Nelson Mandela in preparation for South Africa-I have many thoughts on it and was quite surprised by my reaction to the book-I rode a camel on the beach: twice, I collected sea shells, I went to bed early and woke up when I wanted to, I went on a glass-bottomed boat, held a live starfish, walked and played on a sandbar, went snorkeling for the very first time, met a lovely Jehovas Witness Finnish couple whom I went snorkeling with again by ourselves, met a wonderful 70 year-old man from Munich who was short and stout. didn't speak much English, and whom I experienced the love and warmth of Jesus in, saw sea snakes, eels, nemos (clown fish), lion fish, angel fish, tons more pretty colored fish, starfish, sea urchins, coral, and lots of other incredible things while snorkeling, was given Aloe Vera by a very nice woman with an incredible and distinct laugh that was full of life who took pity on me and my sunburn, participated in water aerobics with a young Kenyan man and 5 other ancient German women who were so much fun to be around, although we didn't understand each other at all, delighted in a few glasses of wine poolside under the stars listening to the waves crash along the dark beach, spent time watching the miniature crabs scuttle side to side across the sand and in and out of their little holes, had a few close calls and one major loss of peanuts to a monkey, declared war on the geckos which insisted, no matter what I did upon being in my room at night, got dolled up for dinner every night just because I could, and completely ignored everything that I left behind and put it all out of my head for the week. I'm sure that was confusing to read through, but did constitute the majority of my week, I loved it and felt much better coming back to Nairobi and all that it currently holds for me.
I realized during the week that in the past few weeks of being here, I had lost my 'sparkle.' Throughout my time here, several people, one of my favorite Italian monks in particular always mentioned to me that my eyes were positively sparkling. Each time, I laughed and the light inside me burned a little brighter. :) But the past few weeks have been so full of conflict, stress, sickness, worry, and fatigue that my sparkle has dissipated. People would ask me how much sleep I had gotten because I looked terrible after waking up from a full 8 hours of sleep. I prayed, while I was away, for God to help me to find a way to ignite that sparkle again. By the end of the week because of prayer and the people I met and the experiences I had and the time away and the rest, I felt that the sparkle had reappeared, I could feel the light again. Coming back to Nairobi last night, I was, again, plunged into the same conflicts, the same stresses, the same worries, and spent the night not sleeping, but thinking a million miles a minute. I am struggling now to not let the little flame run into hiding once more.
I haven't blogged about this yet, but I decided to go home for Christmas. I've been away for 7 months now (I really can't count the two days in between San Fran and Kenya as anything...). Away from family, friends, and familiar places. The prospect of spending another 6 months or so on top of the 7 already away was a bit overwhelming especially since the plans of my traveling companions had also changed which would have left me alone in Africa for the better portion of a month. I made the decision quickly and am flying home on the 7th of December. I'll be there midday on the 8th. One week from tomorrow. I don't know if I've ever looked forward to anything this much. The prospect of being able to spend time being loved (in person!) and loving (again, in person) on my family and friends is one that I couldn't turn down. I've realized being away all this time how important loved ones are and how important 'home' is. I pride myself on my ability to create a home for myself wherever I currently happen to be, but have also realized that spending 3 months here, and 4 months there cannot replace the lifetime or the years spent with family or with friends. The people you call your family in these places are incredible and love you and all of that yes, but they don't truly know you the way the people from home do. Especially when you're in a different culture! I love Kenya and I love the people here, my family, but I am certainly more than ready to head home. I miss being around people who love me and who can show me that they love me! I miss being able to show the people I love that I love them in the ways that I know best. I'm needing the TLC and nurturing that comes from parents and best friends and tea and snuggling sessions. :) I am entirely confident that my decision will strengthen my relationships and nurse my body, mind, heart, and soul back to health as I am utterly broken and bone-tired at this point. I bet my 'sparkle' will be back before you know it too :)
So I'm leaving this place that I've lived for the past 4 months in just 7 days. All the people and places and things that have filled my time and my heart I will have to say good-bye to. I'll be back one day I'm sure but it's a bit sad to leave. Although I'm more than ready, my heart still twangs when Sister Theresita calls me her "Daughtie" (Daughter) and laughs the way she does and looks at me over the top of her glasses. I will sorely miss these dear people who have opened their hearts to me these past months. I will miss the leisurely pace of life here and the "Sawa" attitude.
I'm looking foreward to SNOW, and having tea with dear friends, and cooking and sharing meals with people, and visiting campus again, seeing my residents I never thought I'd miss but do incredibly much, going to student mass, going to Maine for Christmas with my Grandma and cousins, going to church at the Basilica, shopping for bridesmaids dresses with Kayla, spending time in the lovely Twin Cities, being 21! in the U.S., watching movies with my Dad, talking to my Mom, having wine and chocolate with Shannon and talking for HOURS, gossiping with Collin, catching up with the latest happenings in everyone's lives, and SO MUCH MORE! Just thinking about all of these things brings huge smiles to my face and tears of excitement and pure joy to my eyes. My heart skips and I can't help but believe that these things are only 7 days away!
I'm also listening currently to "Irresistible Revolution" by Shane Claiborne on my ipod. It also brings tears to my eyes when I hear him talk about his vision of the church and what being a follower of Christ and being a CHRISTIAN look like. It's something I yearn so much for and feel so called to that I don't know what to do with myself. It makes me think about my experiences working with the homeless this summer in San Fran and how powerful that was and the people I met there and the ways that I met God through the people and the experiences I had there. He's based in Philidelphia, yet another city with an overwhelming population of homeless. He worked with Mother Theresa in Calcutta. The tenderness and love with which he describes the people and the experiences and God is incredible. It's the way we were meant to live. I am so convinced. Although I still cannot call myself a Christian because of the Church and because of the people sitting next to me in church on Sundays (not all of them of course) who call themselves Christian but don't let their proclaimed "Christianity" interact with their daily life, thoughts, and actions, I feel like I could call myself one again one day. The Church needs a revolution, so many people I feel, are like me, and like Shane for that matter, and yearn for more, yearn to be better and yearn to be true Christians and followers of Christ. His message is incredible and I'm only a third of the way through the book!
My emotions are ridiculously conflicting... I'm a bit lost right now in the midst and tangle of them. I'm confused, conflicted, broken, hurt, and tired. But I'm excited, loved, passionate, blessed, and revitalized as well. I cannot push aside the brokenness and just focus on the positive as I am so tempted. God finds us and loves us in our brokenness and He is making Himself apparent to me through this struggle and challenge. He is challenging me to find love (both for myself and for others) and to follow Him and His Word, as extremely difficult as I am finding that challenge right now and as frustrated as I am with it, I know He is here with me guiding me and loving me.
I don't want this last week to be a "just hang on until it's over week." I want to do this week right and accept my challenges and try to overcome them. I want to savor these last days with these people and share in good company and memories. I want to tie up loose ends and make sure I leave regrets behind me. I want to give this last week all I've got left, no matter how tired or frustrated I may be, God and this place and these people deserve what I've got left.
Looking over all of this, it's such a jumble of everything--pretty much my head right now. It's helped a bit to write it out some-thanks for hanging on :)
5.11.09
worldviews
Again, I'm sitting in front of the computer (in the internet cafe of all places) with a blank space in my head where the words are supposed to be coming from. I'm in Karen, a mzungu-filled town center where I'm waiting for my trousers (pants) to be taken in yet again by the seamstress next door. I have some articles to look up for research for one of my term papers on human rights and African culture while I'm here, however I am simply not looking forward to writing the paper...
Lately I've been growing a bit restless, tired once again of a routine. I've been here for three full months now and I think I'm ready for change. It also could be the thought of writing this paper and taking my final exam that has me wishing for the end of November already. :) Although I dread leaving here because I'm so comfortable and used to everything and love my friends and family here so much, I am so ready for more adventures. I think certain [major] differences in the culture and way of life here are really getting to me as well.
The first I think is having people constantly ask me for things and expect things of me. It's tiring to always have to be ready with a graceful, respectful response to someone who asks for your shirt, or laptop, or camera, or, just yesterday, my jacket. These can be people you don't even know who sit next to you on a matatu or people you live with-everyone is fair game. It is a cultural thing for sure-no one here is an individual-everyone is for and with everyone else. It's a what's mine is yours kind of thing. It's just not the way I operate unfortunately. I probably will end up leaving a lot here because of all I've accumulated but what will I have left if I give away everything everyone asks me for? How many people would I have living at my house in MN if I took everyone back with me who asked? You just can't give everything and it's tiring to try and avoid that all the time.
This particular item that makes me weary is not cultural, but a result of poverty and desperation. I am tired of having to ALWAYS be so alert all the time when I'm going anywhere for fear of getting my things stolen or getting mugged. I've only had to be in the city by myself without Chris a few times, but when I have, I have practically run through the street clutching my bag for dear life to prevent anything from getting stolen or my bag from getting cut. There have been several experiences such as this: I have had two bags cut with a knife-not the straps, but holes in the bag-with the hope that something of value would fall out, which luckily did not happen either time. Another Saturday afternoon, we were on our way home from the hospital where our dear friend had just given birth and were walking through town to the matatu stop and I had a backpack on because I had brought it to the hospital with me for things to do. Chris was walking behind me to avoid people stealing from it and when we were in a big crowd that was bottlenecking and Chris fell behind a bit, I felt something and reaching around and grabbed this man's hand out of the side pocket of my bag. Chris grabbed him, picked him up, put him aside, checked his hands, and then we walked quickly away. Again, he didn't get anything. Chris has had two matatu experiences where I was not with him where people were trying to reach into his pockets and his bag to get what they could. I won't go into detail, but it's a really scary thing and a huge reality one has to deal with when living in Nairobi. I can't tell you how exhausting it is, even when Chris is there with me to be that completely alert and weary all the time. I hate that I have to even suspect children on the street of stealing from me. No one can be trusted and I don't like that feeling at all. It's not even that they are bad people, but stealing for them is a survival technique because of the poverty they are in. It's so sad to see.
I'm also growing tired of "African time." After a point, I can't help but see it as complete disrespect for other people. I completely understand how people get held up a few minutes here and there because of greeting someone or a jam or something like that, but several times I have planned on leaving my hostel at a certain time, having to be driven by our driver there for various reasons and an hour or two later we leave and I am ridiculously late for wherever it is I have to be. I cannot tell you how frustrating that is for me. I am completely fine with even up to 1/2 hour late, but one or two hours is a bit ridiculous and disrespectful, even for "African time."
Chris and I have also learned how that no matter what plans you make here, and how well you make them, things never ever go according to those plans. It does become comical over time and you learn to be flexible and to just go with the flow and not plan anything or make ten different sets of plans in the hope that one of them or a combination of some of them works out. But most of the time you're flying by the seat of your pants. It's ok for a while, but sometimes it's nice to know what to expect.
These aren't necessarily rants by any means and I am not complaining, although that may indeed be what it sounds like, but I am pointing out some huge cultural and worldview differences that have become more than apparent to me since being here. They are not something I think needs to change, just things that conflict with my culture and where I come from and sometimes makes the reality of life here frustrating. Chris and I are both frustrated with these things-which is nice to have someone who understands so well. But hey, as they say here: sawa. (it's ok)
Well, my trousers are almost ready so I'm going to finish up gathering my articles and head on out and back to Langata for class.
In case you were at all confused by this blog, I'm still doing great and I wouldn't trade this experience for anything. God works and teaches me in incredible ways!
Lately I've been growing a bit restless, tired once again of a routine. I've been here for three full months now and I think I'm ready for change. It also could be the thought of writing this paper and taking my final exam that has me wishing for the end of November already. :) Although I dread leaving here because I'm so comfortable and used to everything and love my friends and family here so much, I am so ready for more adventures. I think certain [major] differences in the culture and way of life here are really getting to me as well.
The first I think is having people constantly ask me for things and expect things of me. It's tiring to always have to be ready with a graceful, respectful response to someone who asks for your shirt, or laptop, or camera, or, just yesterday, my jacket. These can be people you don't even know who sit next to you on a matatu or people you live with-everyone is fair game. It is a cultural thing for sure-no one here is an individual-everyone is for and with everyone else. It's a what's mine is yours kind of thing. It's just not the way I operate unfortunately. I probably will end up leaving a lot here because of all I've accumulated but what will I have left if I give away everything everyone asks me for? How many people would I have living at my house in MN if I took everyone back with me who asked? You just can't give everything and it's tiring to try and avoid that all the time.
This particular item that makes me weary is not cultural, but a result of poverty and desperation. I am tired of having to ALWAYS be so alert all the time when I'm going anywhere for fear of getting my things stolen or getting mugged. I've only had to be in the city by myself without Chris a few times, but when I have, I have practically run through the street clutching my bag for dear life to prevent anything from getting stolen or my bag from getting cut. There have been several experiences such as this: I have had two bags cut with a knife-not the straps, but holes in the bag-with the hope that something of value would fall out, which luckily did not happen either time. Another Saturday afternoon, we were on our way home from the hospital where our dear friend had just given birth and were walking through town to the matatu stop and I had a backpack on because I had brought it to the hospital with me for things to do. Chris was walking behind me to avoid people stealing from it and when we were in a big crowd that was bottlenecking and Chris fell behind a bit, I felt something and reaching around and grabbed this man's hand out of the side pocket of my bag. Chris grabbed him, picked him up, put him aside, checked his hands, and then we walked quickly away. Again, he didn't get anything. Chris has had two matatu experiences where I was not with him where people were trying to reach into his pockets and his bag to get what they could. I won't go into detail, but it's a really scary thing and a huge reality one has to deal with when living in Nairobi. I can't tell you how exhausting it is, even when Chris is there with me to be that completely alert and weary all the time. I hate that I have to even suspect children on the street of stealing from me. No one can be trusted and I don't like that feeling at all. It's not even that they are bad people, but stealing for them is a survival technique because of the poverty they are in. It's so sad to see.
I'm also growing tired of "African time." After a point, I can't help but see it as complete disrespect for other people. I completely understand how people get held up a few minutes here and there because of greeting someone or a jam or something like that, but several times I have planned on leaving my hostel at a certain time, having to be driven by our driver there for various reasons and an hour or two later we leave and I am ridiculously late for wherever it is I have to be. I cannot tell you how frustrating that is for me. I am completely fine with even up to 1/2 hour late, but one or two hours is a bit ridiculous and disrespectful, even for "African time."
Chris and I have also learned how that no matter what plans you make here, and how well you make them, things never ever go according to those plans. It does become comical over time and you learn to be flexible and to just go with the flow and not plan anything or make ten different sets of plans in the hope that one of them or a combination of some of them works out. But most of the time you're flying by the seat of your pants. It's ok for a while, but sometimes it's nice to know what to expect.
These aren't necessarily rants by any means and I am not complaining, although that may indeed be what it sounds like, but I am pointing out some huge cultural and worldview differences that have become more than apparent to me since being here. They are not something I think needs to change, just things that conflict with my culture and where I come from and sometimes makes the reality of life here frustrating. Chris and I are both frustrated with these things-which is nice to have someone who understands so well. But hey, as they say here: sawa. (it's ok)
Well, my trousers are almost ready so I'm going to finish up gathering my articles and head on out and back to Langata for class.
In case you were at all confused by this blog, I'm still doing great and I wouldn't trade this experience for anything. God works and teaches me in incredible ways!
4.11.09
Sudan
First things first. It's been so long since I have been able to write, even though I have wanted to, because the internet at our hostel has been down since the 14th of October. That's a long time and I miss talking to everyone as frequently as I used to.
However, much has happened since I last blogged and I want to start off slowly with one thing at a time to make sure I get all of it in here!
On the 14th of October, through the 18th of October, I was given the opportunity to go to Juba, Sudan. I took it as you can imagine-I have been saying how much I want to go to Sudan forever! Juba is the capital of the south and the South was where the forefront of the war was fought between the North and the South. Chris and I were there with a team from our internships helping to train the official election observers for the upcoming elections there in April. To say that it was nice to FINALLY be a part of some action and something tangible would be an understatement. It was incredible to not be talking about doing something or learning about something, but to actually take action on an issue for a change. Although I feel that much was lacking in our training due to the lack of resources, it was still good to take action.
Juba, is the capital of the South and thus far my experience with the capitals of African countries has been quite good and I have found the three that I have been in quite developed. Juba was poverty pure and simple. You could see the effects of the war there and see how much it had torn the country and the people apart. Generations of lives were ruined by death, poverty, lack of education, fear, violence, and more. I saw maybe one or two 2-story buildings while I was there. I hate to say this for fear of fulfilling stereotypes (which is not what I'm trying to do and this is not how it is in most of Africa) but there were mud and grass huts in the city center still. Many people had structures made from scraps of metal and plastic that served as their homes.
The river Nile runs straight through Juba and our hotel was right on the bank. It was really beautiful but also full of mosquitoes, lizards, and frogs. And it was HOT HOT HOT! Walking off the plane was walking into a heat like I've never felt. Wow! I was sweating pretty much the entire weekend. The training was held in the hotel and consisted of representatives from each of the different states in the South that had been elected by different organizations as representatives of their state.
Our first night we took a picki-picki (motorcycle) tour of the city. Chris and I found ourselves on the back of a picki-picki riding over the Nile during a brilliant pink sunset. What an experience-something I will never forget. It was so beautiful and perfect. Wow. God is so good!
A quick background on the situation currently in Sudan. There have been no elections there in over 40 years. Most, if not all, of the Sudanese have never voted or even thought about it. More than 70% of the population is illiterate which has HUGE implications in the voting process. Talk about civic education? No way. Even basic education is severely lacking, forget about being educated about voting, government, their rights, and the list goes on. Getting people in the rural villages to understand the process, get registered, become educated about political candidates, get to the polls, be able to cast their vote freely and fairly without pressure, bribery, or violence will be a miracle and is certainly more than most are hoping for. The situation in the South is shaky at best and the CPA has already been breached more than once. The North is not giving the South its fair share of oil revenue and they are getting upset. The census that was just completed was tampered with and wrought with corruption which will have an influence on the elections since people are so upset and skeptical of it. The electoral calendar is not being adhered to and the government is most definitely stalling on the process. With the referendum coming up in 2010 to see if the South will become an independent state tensions are high, especially because the South holds most of the oil and the North wants a share of that which they can't get if they become separate entities. This does not even count the situation in Darfur... The situation grows evermore complicated and I am quite concerned about the process and the outcome of the elections. Many people are trying their hardest however to ensure that the elections go as smoothly as possible.
The training was 4 days and covered many topics. Some of it passed right over the heads of the trainees and I feel that we could have stayed in training for a month. I was frustrated by the fact that as monitors, they virtually have no powers to change or enforce anything, they simply have to report what they see. It was a constructive process however and by the end we ended up with a check list of things to observe and check over during the process.
I have so many reflections on Sudan. I really loved it there a lot. It was beautiful and the people were lovely. Someday I'm going back.
That's all for now, hopefully I'll get to write again soon but Chris wants to head home now :)
However, much has happened since I last blogged and I want to start off slowly with one thing at a time to make sure I get all of it in here!
On the 14th of October, through the 18th of October, I was given the opportunity to go to Juba, Sudan. I took it as you can imagine-I have been saying how much I want to go to Sudan forever! Juba is the capital of the south and the South was where the forefront of the war was fought between the North and the South. Chris and I were there with a team from our internships helping to train the official election observers for the upcoming elections there in April. To say that it was nice to FINALLY be a part of some action and something tangible would be an understatement. It was incredible to not be talking about doing something or learning about something, but to actually take action on an issue for a change. Although I feel that much was lacking in our training due to the lack of resources, it was still good to take action.
Juba, is the capital of the South and thus far my experience with the capitals of African countries has been quite good and I have found the three that I have been in quite developed. Juba was poverty pure and simple. You could see the effects of the war there and see how much it had torn the country and the people apart. Generations of lives were ruined by death, poverty, lack of education, fear, violence, and more. I saw maybe one or two 2-story buildings while I was there. I hate to say this for fear of fulfilling stereotypes (which is not what I'm trying to do and this is not how it is in most of Africa) but there were mud and grass huts in the city center still. Many people had structures made from scraps of metal and plastic that served as their homes.
The river Nile runs straight through Juba and our hotel was right on the bank. It was really beautiful but also full of mosquitoes, lizards, and frogs. And it was HOT HOT HOT! Walking off the plane was walking into a heat like I've never felt. Wow! I was sweating pretty much the entire weekend. The training was held in the hotel and consisted of representatives from each of the different states in the South that had been elected by different organizations as representatives of their state.
Our first night we took a picki-picki (motorcycle) tour of the city. Chris and I found ourselves on the back of a picki-picki riding over the Nile during a brilliant pink sunset. What an experience-something I will never forget. It was so beautiful and perfect. Wow. God is so good!
A quick background on the situation currently in Sudan. There have been no elections there in over 40 years. Most, if not all, of the Sudanese have never voted or even thought about it. More than 70% of the population is illiterate which has HUGE implications in the voting process. Talk about civic education? No way. Even basic education is severely lacking, forget about being educated about voting, government, their rights, and the list goes on. Getting people in the rural villages to understand the process, get registered, become educated about political candidates, get to the polls, be able to cast their vote freely and fairly without pressure, bribery, or violence will be a miracle and is certainly more than most are hoping for. The situation in the South is shaky at best and the CPA has already been breached more than once. The North is not giving the South its fair share of oil revenue and they are getting upset. The census that was just completed was tampered with and wrought with corruption which will have an influence on the elections since people are so upset and skeptical of it. The electoral calendar is not being adhered to and the government is most definitely stalling on the process. With the referendum coming up in 2010 to see if the South will become an independent state tensions are high, especially because the South holds most of the oil and the North wants a share of that which they can't get if they become separate entities. This does not even count the situation in Darfur... The situation grows evermore complicated and I am quite concerned about the process and the outcome of the elections. Many people are trying their hardest however to ensure that the elections go as smoothly as possible.
The training was 4 days and covered many topics. Some of it passed right over the heads of the trainees and I feel that we could have stayed in training for a month. I was frustrated by the fact that as monitors, they virtually have no powers to change or enforce anything, they simply have to report what they see. It was a constructive process however and by the end we ended up with a check list of things to observe and check over during the process.
I have so many reflections on Sudan. I really loved it there a lot. It was beautiful and the people were lovely. Someday I'm going back.
That's all for now, hopefully I'll get to write again soon but Chris wants to head home now :)
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