Day 26

           “There’s no dollar sign on a peace of mind” are lyrics from a song that my brother showed me about 3 months ago. Since then, I have come to learn that these are words to live by.

            My theory is that the Zac Brown Band was in Kenya when they wrote the words to their song “Chicken Fried”. To me, it seems as though a vast majority of the Kenyans I have met in the last month, live their day to day life to those 9 words, or others quite similar.

            Last Sunday, I was out in our yard simply walking around taking in the beauty Kenya has to offer. As I was admiring my surroundings, I heard a “wewe, kuja” (you, come) from one of our neighbors. After asking Brian (the country director) if it was safe to do so, I ventured on over to her house. I was immediately greeted with a “Habari, you are no coward” from the daughter of the grandmother who invited me over. I spent about an hour with 7 children, whom I understand to be brothers, sisters, and cousins. They took me back to their grandfather’s crop fields and showed me how each vegetable grows. They even allowed me to taste. After returning from our walk, the mother asked if I would come back in 30 minutes for lunch. How could I refuse? I gratefully accepted and ran home to tell everyone else and to gather some “sweets” as a thank you.

            As I returned the kids were there waiting by the gate holding a worn out book for me to read to them. After reading The Story of Noah, we sat down inside for lunch. My seat was in the middle of the couch right in front of a table that held a machete, lantern, radio, and a single glass of water (I was the only one who received a drink with lunch). As I looked to my left and right I noticed a couple things. Other than being the only one with water, I was the only one with a glass bowl, (all the rest were made of tin) and my helping was the largest. I immediately flashed back to a culture book on Kenya that I read before arriving. In it, it points out that Kenyans will do the their best to impress their guests and to make them feel at home. This family’s behavior towards me proves this book to be true. I was honored to be a guest in a Kenyan home.

            The grandmother and grandfather own the 2-room house and share it with their grandchildren. Other than tending to many acres of crop fields, raising cows, chickens, and sheep, these grandparents have to care for their grandchildren as well. Their mother works 2 hours away in Nairobi at a school and only returns once a month. On top of the sad fact that these kids only get to see their mother 12 times a year, their grandparents’ house where they live, is smaller than most garages in the US. I was fortunate enough to get a tour of the house and what I saw was not, in my opinion, ideal for accommodating 5 people. The single bedroom had only one bed hiding under mounds of clothing. The bedroom itself is so smothered with clothes that I had trouble finding the ceiling because of how many clothes were hanging from above.

            After hearing this story, I have started to truly believe my theory about the Zac Brown Band may, in fact, be true. From living in a home in such bad shape, to being separated from your mother or children for a month at a time, one would expect these people to be at the very least, unhappy. However, this couldn’t be farther from the truth. There wasn’t a time during the 4 hours I spent with this family when there wasn’t a smile on each of their faces. Laughter was heard more than conversation, and they each, for sure, had “peace of mind”.

                        These past couple of days have been fairly eventful. We welcomed another boy to our family, Peter who is 7 years old. I am amazed every time I look at him. His eyes are constantly wide open and he is soaking up every second of his new life like a sponge.

            Following in my mother’s footsteps, I went all out for Halloween (well, as far as I could in a country that doesn’t celebrate it), and shared my enthusiasm for the holiday with the kids. In town I found two beautiful winter squash that, in my opinion were the next best thing to pumpkins. As soon as I got home I gathered all the kids and taught them how to carve “jack-o-lanterns” using the squash I had just bought. They seemed to really enjoy the activity, as did I, but they had trouble grasping the concept that they weren’t “for food” and simply decorations.  Regardless, a good time was had, and my mother would be proud.

            As a way to celebrate the holiday, the other volunteers and I ventured on in to Nairobi for a costume party with a live reggae band. Given my lack of resources, I had to resort to the incredibly unoriginal hippie costume. Despite the lack of creativity, it was a great night and wouldn’t have been Halloween without dressing up.

            One of the other volunteers so generously donated money for the kids to take a trip in to Nairobi for a day of bowling on Sunday! The faces on our kids were priceless. Such a foreign activity must have looked crazy through their eyes. However, always eager to learn, and to have fun, the kids didn’t hesitate when picking up a ball and giving it a shot. I had brought some Halloween tattoos from home and was so excited to finally use them yesterday. The kids are now covered in pictures of actual pumpkins (not winter squash), skeletons and bats. It was an awesome Halloween and I have the tattoos all over my arms to prove it.

         Nampenda Nyote! (Love you all!) Love and Kisses – Auntie Stephanie