Today finds me, yet again, sitting in the Atlanta airport waiting for my evening flight to England. I realized that the last time I was here was over a month ago (on my way to England and Kenya)! I can't believe that much time has passed. I had every intention of posting as soon as I got home, but I hit the ground running. Then, ... well, then came Malaria. Matthew, the co-leader of One By One, contracted the disease while on the trip in Kenya. The disease took it's toll on his body, and almost took his life! Praise God, he was released from the hospital yesterday and is on the road to recovery!!!! Needless to say, it's been a rough couple of weeks.
However, I still want to tell about the trip. I thought, for this post, I would simply share some moments that stand out to me from our week there. I hope you enjoy them!
However, I still want to tell about the trip. I thought, for this post, I would simply share some moments that stand out to me from our week there. I hope you enjoy them!
******
The rain had forced us inside. At some point the power had gone out, taking what light we had with it. The smell of boy and dirt surrounded me. Looking around, I counted twelve or thirteen. The number changed as often as the conversation. Right now we are discussing words. I say something in English and they repeat it in Swahili. There is a silence as they wait for me to repeat it back. I brace myself for the laughter I know is to follow my horrible pronunciation of their language. I don't mind the laughter; the sound is like music to my ears. I want to be able to communicate with them, and the laughter just reminds me how far I have to go.
"Ng'ombe" ... A room full of smiles! I didn't tell them I'd learned this one last night with the girls. Another word was added to our growing list. I loved that they were so excited to teach me. Even though we had been at this for at least an hour, they weren't at all bothered.
A little one was laying in my lap. I wasn't sure who it was at this point. Not only had the occupant changed a few times, but we'd lost power a while ago and I couldn't see very well. He was content and so was I. Willis, one of the older boys, mentioned my dad (the word "Babba" or father was just mentioned). He wanted to know when he was coming back. It warmed my heart that these kids who were becoming such a huge part of my life had not only met my dad, but enjoyed him. The merging of the parts of my life were becoming less and less complicated.
They had so many questions about where I was from. A mixture of queries in English and Swahili. I listened intently. I tried to answer the ones I understood; making an effort to talk slowly and enunciate. They were definitely more used to the British accent. I also focused on those speaking only Swahili. Looking to those near who I knew could translate, I would ask them to repeat the question for me.
"How many buses did it take from Bumala B' to get to your home?" I could feel myself instinctively smile. Their way of life was beautifully innocent. "Well, I only take one bus... But I have to take 4 planes." The room erupted with excitement and a fury of questions. I had forgotten how fascinated they were with planes.
"How long was I on the plane?"
"How did the pilots stay awake"
"How many people were there?"
"How did the chairs stay in place?"
"Could you go to the bathroom?" (And then they were interested in that process ;) )
"What did you do?"
"How did the TVs plug in?"
And my favorite, "Is it really windy?"
I answered all the questions as best as I could. It wasn't until the lights came back on that I realized how long we had been sitting there. Hours had passed in beautiful simplicity. Casciano, the cook, came in at that point. It was time to eat. I could feel a few tears well in my eyes. I smiled deeply through them. This new life of mine was shaping up to be pretty awesome.
"Ng'ombe" ... A room full of smiles! I didn't tell them I'd learned this one last night with the girls. Another word was added to our growing list. I loved that they were so excited to teach me. Even though we had been at this for at least an hour, they weren't at all bothered.
A little one was laying in my lap. I wasn't sure who it was at this point. Not only had the occupant changed a few times, but we'd lost power a while ago and I couldn't see very well. He was content and so was I. Willis, one of the older boys, mentioned my dad (the word "Babba" or father was just mentioned). He wanted to know when he was coming back. It warmed my heart that these kids who were becoming such a huge part of my life had not only met my dad, but enjoyed him. The merging of the parts of my life were becoming less and less complicated.
They had so many questions about where I was from. A mixture of queries in English and Swahili. I listened intently. I tried to answer the ones I understood; making an effort to talk slowly and enunciate. They were definitely more used to the British accent. I also focused on those speaking only Swahili. Looking to those near who I knew could translate, I would ask them to repeat the question for me.
"How many buses did it take from Bumala B' to get to your home?" I could feel myself instinctively smile. Their way of life was beautifully innocent. "Well, I only take one bus... But I have to take 4 planes." The room erupted with excitement and a fury of questions. I had forgotten how fascinated they were with planes.
"How long was I on the plane?"
"How did the pilots stay awake"
"How many people were there?"
"How did the chairs stay in place?"
"Could you go to the bathroom?" (And then they were interested in that process ;) )
"What did you do?"
"How did the TVs plug in?"
And my favorite, "Is it really windy?"
I answered all the questions as best as I could. It wasn't until the lights came back on that I realized how long we had been sitting there. Hours had passed in beautiful simplicity. Casciano, the cook, came in at that point. It was time to eat. I could feel a few tears well in my eyes. I smiled deeply through them. This new life of mine was shaping up to be pretty awesome.
******
There are hands up all around the room. This should feel good; should feel right, but it doesn't. I can feel the heat rising up my neck. There is no doubt in my mind that all visible skin is a scarlet, blotchy mess! I take a moment to breathe.
"I can do this!" I mentally tell myself. "I can teach elementary math!" An involuntary laugh escapes my mouth into the deadly silent room. I couldn't help it. I was mentally picturing the disbelieving faces of my accumulation of previous students. That would never be a phrase they would use in connection with me. Of all of the classes for me to observe, it had to be math! I told myself to focus. One look at the various faces seated at the desks in front of me told me I'd been standing there for an inordinate amount of time. This wasn't going to help my reputation of being the silly one. (Unless, it changed me to the crazy one!)
I forced myself to move toward the first student, praying the entire time. The question was simple enough, but I found myself staring at the equation. "Seriously?!" My brain screamed. Not only was it in metric, but it was a conversion equation! I could feel myself panicking. I hurriedly searched the black board for the standard equation to use, incredibly grateful the teacher had thought to write it out. I knew he had done some weird cross multiplication thingy to work out his answer... but I barely remember what that function was, let alone how to do it! I do remember learning it in 3rd grade, in Mrs. Peters class. She was such a sweet lady. She always had a smile on her face! "Seriously, Bri! FOCUS!" I had serious daydreaming problem!
Poor Chrissy was just staring at me. I'd been standing there, not saying anything. "Um,... Well, I don't do it the same way your teacher does it. Do you think you could watch me work it out the way I do it, and then work it out his way?" I said to her, trying to sound more confident than I felt. Her face was priceless. Staring at me like the idiot I was in the moment, she responded "of course."
Painstakingly, that was how I worked with every child. Singlehandedly undoing any conversion lesson that had been absorbed that day! However, I walked out of the classroom the highest sense of accomplishment. This American managed to do elementary math without a calculator or google! Victory!
******
My face was red again. I was hoping that it had been that way before I stood to speak. It gave a greater possibility for my blotches to fully connect. Yes, I was standing there hoping that I looked like an over cooked tomato and not like a strawberry swirl yogurt. Maybe they would think I was sunburnt. Speaking for the service wasn't something I minded. what I was having a problem with was I wasn't very far in and the translator was having problems understanding me, I was having issues following my notes, and at some point I had fixated on how my inflection had begun to sound like Siri. (I really need to get this focus thing in check!) Needless to say, things weren't going great. Standing on the pulpit, I could see straight to the back of the church and out to the road. They had come so far since the first time I was here in 2009. A building of this size and caliber was rare in our area. It really was such an honor to even be able to speak to them. I find them all so inspiring. On that note, I took a pause in that I was saying, took a shaky breathe, and forced myself to smile. Looking out into the crowd, I found so many faces smiling in return. I could feel myself begin to calm. The wave of happiness I'd become familiar with all week was back. "God, thank you for this opportunity! I love this place and these people!"
******
Last days are hard. Despite being able to come up with any strenuous activities, I was exhausted! I think it comes from wanting to give your all for the short time you are there, to make what time you have count. This trip was no different. Our last full day in Bumala B' had us trekking down the main road of the village. We were headed to the closest lake. It is one of the village's main water sources.
On most days, it is busy with people washing clothes, bathing, or gathering water for household needs. Today, however, it is quiet. I'm not sure if this is due to the fact that we are there during the hottest point of the day, or if there is another reason we don't know. It really doesn't matter. We are all quite content to sit on the water's edge, soaking up the sun and the scenery. I know that I have a heart for Kenya, but sitting here I can't see who wouldn't love this place. The view is more than just picturesque, it's breathtaking! The lake, the land, the huts... all untouched by time. I am more than just content, I am happy. Even on this sad day, knowing the trip is almost over, I am happy. I'll be back. I smile. God is good!
"I can do this!" I mentally tell myself. "I can teach elementary math!" An involuntary laugh escapes my mouth into the deadly silent room. I couldn't help it. I was mentally picturing the disbelieving faces of my accumulation of previous students. That would never be a phrase they would use in connection with me. Of all of the classes for me to observe, it had to be math! I told myself to focus. One look at the various faces seated at the desks in front of me told me I'd been standing there for an inordinate amount of time. This wasn't going to help my reputation of being the silly one. (Unless, it changed me to the crazy one!)
I forced myself to move toward the first student, praying the entire time. The question was simple enough, but I found myself staring at the equation. "Seriously?!" My brain screamed. Not only was it in metric, but it was a conversion equation! I could feel myself panicking. I hurriedly searched the black board for the standard equation to use, incredibly grateful the teacher had thought to write it out. I knew he had done some weird cross multiplication thingy to work out his answer... but I barely remember what that function was, let alone how to do it! I do remember learning it in 3rd grade, in Mrs. Peters class. She was such a sweet lady. She always had a smile on her face! "Seriously, Bri! FOCUS!" I had serious daydreaming problem!
Poor Chrissy was just staring at me. I'd been standing there, not saying anything. "Um,... Well, I don't do it the same way your teacher does it. Do you think you could watch me work it out the way I do it, and then work it out his way?" I said to her, trying to sound more confident than I felt. Her face was priceless. Staring at me like the idiot I was in the moment, she responded "of course."
Painstakingly, that was how I worked with every child. Singlehandedly undoing any conversion lesson that had been absorbed that day! However, I walked out of the classroom the highest sense of accomplishment. This American managed to do elementary math without a calculator or google! Victory!
******
My face was red again. I was hoping that it had been that way before I stood to speak. It gave a greater possibility for my blotches to fully connect. Yes, I was standing there hoping that I looked like an over cooked tomato and not like a strawberry swirl yogurt. Maybe they would think I was sunburnt. Speaking for the service wasn't something I minded. what I was having a problem with was I wasn't very far in and the translator was having problems understanding me, I was having issues following my notes, and at some point I had fixated on how my inflection had begun to sound like Siri. (I really need to get this focus thing in check!) Needless to say, things weren't going great. Standing on the pulpit, I could see straight to the back of the church and out to the road. They had come so far since the first time I was here in 2009. A building of this size and caliber was rare in our area. It really was such an honor to even be able to speak to them. I find them all so inspiring. On that note, I took a pause in that I was saying, took a shaky breathe, and forced myself to smile. Looking out into the crowd, I found so many faces smiling in return. I could feel myself begin to calm. The wave of happiness I'd become familiar with all week was back. "God, thank you for this opportunity! I love this place and these people!"
******
Last days are hard. Despite being able to come up with any strenuous activities, I was exhausted! I think it comes from wanting to give your all for the short time you are there, to make what time you have count. This trip was no different. Our last full day in Bumala B' had us trekking down the main road of the village. We were headed to the closest lake. It is one of the village's main water sources.
On most days, it is busy with people washing clothes, bathing, or gathering water for household needs. Today, however, it is quiet. I'm not sure if this is due to the fact that we are there during the hottest point of the day, or if there is another reason we don't know. It really doesn't matter. We are all quite content to sit on the water's edge, soaking up the sun and the scenery. I know that I have a heart for Kenya, but sitting here I can't see who wouldn't love this place. The view is more than just picturesque, it's breathtaking! The lake, the land, the huts... all untouched by time. I am more than just content, I am happy. Even on this sad day, knowing the trip is almost over, I am happy. I'll be back. I smile. God is good!