Here Goes Nothing...

It seems forever ago when I boarded the plane for Chicago, then London, then Nairobi. I don’t think it had even really hit me yet what kind of journey I was embarking on. I made the trip from Dallas to London by myself and met up with Leah and Morgan in London. We were a little worried about arriving in Nairobi because we’d heard that the girls that had gone before us had things stolen from their luggage. And then there were the cautions from the nice Kenyan man I’d met on the plane: “Do not trust anyone. Not even the people you are working with. This is Africa.” (This is Africa… We’ve abbreviated it now to T.I.A. for future reference.)

We got our visas without any problem and got all of our luggage (nothing was stolen). Things were going so well that surely something was bound to go wrong sooner or later. And so it was that when we walked out to meet the person that was supposed to pick us up and take us to the hotel, he was not there. I think the first reaction was to panic, but we were too tired to even do that. We went back in and one of the women working the taxi information desk tried to help us look up the number of the hotel. When we couldn’t find it, we started to think of anybody at all that we could call to come get us. The lady even offered to call the travel agent in Nairobi that we’d been in touch with. We were so thankful to have found someone so helpful! As we were calling the travel agent, I saw a sign outside that read “Menonnite, Fronkez” or something of the sort. Even if Leah’s last name was misspelled, it was meant for us and we were so relieved! As we gathered our things and started to leave, the woman that had so politely helped us stopped us and said, “What? Nothing for me?” (meaning money) We hadn’t exchanged our money yet, so Morgan searched through her things for some change or anything that we could give her. She gave her all the change that she had, and the woman counted it as she laid it on the table. She started to laugh and speak in Swahili with her friends, who also started laughing. When I asked her what she’d said, she replied, “There is not enough here even for milk.” All we could do was walk away and meet our ride.

The Mennonite Guest House is a great little home-style hotel with quite a few perks such as a volleyball and tennis court, a playground for the kids, a library, and the ever-slow internet. We met some characters there, including a Canadian auditor, but the one that stood out from the rest was Doug O’Connell, the Irishman. Everybody eats together at the Mennonite House, and so when we went to lunch the next day, we sit down, everyone greeted each other and started asking questions and sharing stories. Soon enough, the Irishman starts telling about how he had been training for the Iron Man and couldn’t complete the running portion because he’d hurt his knee. More questions came, followed by many more stories from all of his travels to Spain, Nepal, the US, etc. We decided to invite Doug to go with us to get our cell phones that afternoon. As the day turned into the next couple of days, we were so grateful for his company. Wherever we would go, he’d walk behind us to keep an eye on us and everyone surrounding. He was like our own personal protector, bodyguard, and guardian angel - whatever you want to call it. We were safe with Doug, although we didn’t realize it until after we’d separated and gone our different ways.

Paul, our driver, took us from Nairobi to the Mariann School in Sang’alo. He was a wealth of information and gave so much advice, which we gladly received. He shared about Kenya’s political history, which Morgan will have to share about. I was in the back and couldn’t hear anything. I was surprised as the scenery changed from the stereotypical Africa of the Great Rift Valley that we think of and see in movies to the mountainous pastures and tea fields. It reminded me of Costa Rica. The drive was so beautiful, and extremely bumpy. It’s the middle of rainy season here, so the roads are full of potholes. We arrived to the school on Saturday and met the school management team and some of the teachers. At church the next morning, they had a translator just for us. There were 2 sermons preached, and I think we’d all agree that it was hard to sit for so long listening to Callogen translated into broken English. The singing was beautiful, though, and the people were so kind and gracious and inviting.

I think culture shock hit all three of us right away. It’s hard to describe the way every day life is here. Things are so much more relaxed, but that term doesn’t even do it justice. Time just functions differently here. The children are in school literally all day and half a day on Saturday. Half of them live on the school property since their homes are too far. We’ve been observing classes all week and have finally arranged our own schedules. We’ll probably really start contributing on Monday. They have already finished the syllabus and are now reviewing for the National Exams (finals).

I’ve taken so many pictures of things that words can’t describe. Our home is comfortable and clean. We are slowly learning to do things for ourselves here, like cooking and cleaning. There is always work to do or something to clean, especially since its rainy season. We didn’t have any electricity until Wednesday night. We’d gone into town to buy some supplies for the house and one of the teachers went with us to get the school’s generator fixed. Now we have about 2 hours of electricity every night! It’s been so great to be able to charge phones or the laptop or whatever. Sometimes teachers have brought their phones over to be charged, so it also creates a time when we can sit and have tea and get to know the teachers or management. Even though we’re so thankful for the electricity, we really do enjoy the candlelight and lanterns that we have to use the rest of the time.

We are slowly getting used to the “outhouse”. It’s more of a cement port-a-potty, really. Typical toilets in Kenya consist of a hole in the ground. This one, however, is a cement seat. The hole goes down maybe 50 feet or so, so there’s really not a smell. As of right now, we’ve only taken one bucket bath. We heat up the rainwater from the day and put it in a plastic tub and just do the best we can. This weekend one of the teachers is going to rig up a shower for us though. It will consist of a black plastic container that holds the water, which runs down through a hose into the little room. We’ll have to boil the water and then climb up the later to pour it into the container. We’re really looking forward to it!

I think before this becomes too much longer, I’m going to sign off on this one. We’ll include many of our stories separately to make the reading easier. I’ll be surprised if any of you actually read all of this! J I’ll write again soon and include more pics/stories.

Until then! - Gloria

PS - I tried to include a picture, but the internet is soooo slow... maybe next time.