Home for the holidays

This is going to be a relatively short one, as things are very busy here.  Just about 29 hours before Rebecca and I board the bus bound for Nairobi and there are so many things left to do for work and to pack up the houses in the compound

It’s been an incredible week.  Busy, yes, but incredible.  We passed the 750 mark for students registered at our Learning Center and may well have passed 800 by now (getting an official file count tomorrow). The largest number last time the Center was opened was 350, so this is a huge increase and we have our staff split between the Center and our new mobile Center (which serves another 100 or so kids each week), so over twice the students at the original Learning Center with about half the number of Education staff. Plus, we added a new record-keeping system. It’s been interesting and definitely exciting.

We celebrated my friend and next door neighbor, Janine, entering her 30^th year by also celebrating one of her favorite holidays, Christmas, as we wind down our time together before the break.

Do you want to know something just a little crazy?  After a little while here, it becomes so easy (or at least it was for me) to forget the world outside of this little town.  To forget that there are places where you can drink water from the tap, where it’s unusual for the electricity to cut out every few minutes, or for fire to shoot out of the electrical sockets.  I can hardly remember what it is like not to have my clothes smell like mildew or to have strange creatures crawl out from under my bed at night.  Lizards hanging from the ceiling tiles, toads in the shower, and worst of all, weevils in our food!  What will it be like when there are more than 3 restaurants to choose from, they don’t take 2-3 hours to prepare a plate of fries, and they don’t all serve the exact same thing.  There are no rocks in the beans, no beetles in the mangoes, and no centipedes with giant stingers in my sandals.  There is a place where I will be relatively anonymous.  Where I do not stick out like a sore thumb for children to gawk at, point, and yell.

But still, this is a life that I love.  It is hard to imagine a place I’d rather be.  I miss my friends and family at times, but I really just wish they could all be here (instead of me there) to see how beautiful it is, how delicious the simplicity of life can be here, and how incredible the people here are.  Especially the kids.  The kids make it for me.  Not only the ones I am friends with outside of work (but they are indeed incredible and make every day a little more wonderful), but also the ones I see at the Center and at the schools who are so full of energy and enthusiasm to learn, and even the ones I meet on the road.  Yeah, some of them stop and stare and point and yell.  But, as soon as you crack a smile in their direction and give them a wave, you’ve done it.  Connection made. 

 

The first leg of this journey has been incredible.  Eventful. Rocky. Crazy. Amazing. Rewarding. Challenging.  Tough.  Easy. Emotional. Inspiring. And altogether beautiful. 

Not looking forward to the long bus ride or the full day spent on planes, but I know the people I see on the other end, will make the journey well worth it.

I love you all.  Take care.  Maybe I’ll even see you soon, j 

Tukapamoja

Well, hello there.  It’s hard to believe we have just over one week until we are heading out on break.  Already, it’s difficult to picture leaving this gorgeous place and these amazing people, if only for a month.  

Opening day at the Learning Center!

There’s something about the air here.  It’s cleaner and crisper than the air I have known.  The sun shines brighter this close to the equator.  The clouds form themselves into Turner-esque backdrops for the incredible landscape.  The green of the trees seems somehow greener and the world seems somehow more vibrant and alive.

We had a week that was somehow both chaotic and smooth.  How so, you may ask.  Well, we opened the Learning Resource Center, our little building on the main Nuru Kenya grounds.  When school is out of session, we open it and offer innovative and creative learning programs to improve literacy.  We also launched the Mobile Learning Center for the very first time, where we take our programs out to remote areas to reach the children for whom it’s too far to reach our Learning Center.   Beyond this, we just did the first registration process for the program to date, so a lot of newness all at once.  And a lot of children!  Hundreds upon hundreds.  We are still tallying  the count, but the daily totals between the two toward the end of the week were around 500 or more. So hundreds of kids made it feel chaotic, but the team handled it with grace and skill.

We love learning!

It was one of those weeks that reminds us what it’s all about.   The kids come during their break.  How many kids in America would walk hours barefoot each way, trudging through the rain and mud, often with no breakfast before they leave or lunch packed with them, day after day to attend classes during their holiday from school?  They are so eager for knowledge, so excited by all the things that seem so commonplace.  Thrilled to use a crayon, excited to have the opportunity to read some books, grateful to have a dictionary to look up the meanings of new words.  They are often so entranced with the lessons that they hardly notice the mzungu (white person) in the room.

I see a better world for them.  It only exists if a lot of other people see it too and believe it not only could happen, but must.  And are ready to act to make it a reality.  It only exits if we can help the children to see it for themselves.  Every time they are told that their dreams are foolish or impossible, when they have any scratch of innovation or creativity scolded or caned out of them, that’s when the vision becomes a bit more blurry or faint.  But every time they get up at four in the morning to do their chores before the two hour walk to the Learning Center, on their own, children of 4 or 6 years, that's when it comes back into focus.  They are there in droves waiting at 7am, two hours before the Center actually opens.  Sitting quietly in a single file line. Perfectly behaved without adult supervision.  Even if the vision of a better world isn’t yet clear for them, they know it’s something worth working for.

Love all of these children, especially
Miss Crazy Face over there.

It is a humbling thing to play a part to help end their struggle.  To feel us together, ‘tukapamoja’ (we are together) working together, pushing back on a force that seeks to hold them in place or push them farther down. 

I remember when I was an intern at the Centre for Refugee Research and we were helping to run and mediate an international conference.  I was still in grad school, almost 8 years ago.  We were in Bangkok for the UN conference on Beijing +10 (the protection and empowerment of women and girls, especially refugees).  There was a sign over the entrance to the conference that said, ‘better worlds are possible.’  I loved walking in under that sign each day and being surrounded by hundreds of people who had come from all over the world who truly believed in its meaning.   

My first Kenyan double rainbow.  What does it mean?!?

There are moments when things are difficult and especially trying.  This past week has certainly been full of those.  At times I have felt I am barely keeping my head above water.  I can no longer count the number of different voices telling me what they want me to do and how they think things should be.  All the voices are conflicting and half the time there is no clarity.  Amidst the confusion and discord, it is the children and the vision for a better world that gets me up in the morning on few hours sleep and drives me on through the days when there just aren’t enough hours to make any headway.

Even when nothing else seems to make sense, and  practices and policies change every other day, I always find solace in the smiles of children and know that ‘tukapamoja’ in this journey to a better world.

Love, Jesi