Drifting Insignificantly

I’m drifting insignificantly somewhere between college student and Peace Corps volunteer. Still waiting to hear about my placement. Suppose to be in Eastern Europe somewhere teaching English, departing sometime Mid September to Early October.

I’ve taken a fall from well established, comfortable college student to a temporarily unemployed, antsy house guest. I can’t get over the idea that life and skills are giving so people can contribute to society. As much as I try to fill my countless hours with reading, running and merely sitting outside (only in the absence of 3 horrible little creatures aka the neighbor’s three mini yorkies), I cannot fully enjoy my new abundance of free time.

Last summer or two ago, I would be in Africa somewhere at this point. Berwyn is lovely but Uganda and Kenya I might rank a little higher. Wish I was coloring with the kids at Nyumbani or dancing with the girls at Anita especially Lucy. I miss experience the exciting African culture with other college students. The long bus rides, good conversations, and great people. But here I sit. Nothing to exciting going on but I guess I should count it all joy and get over myself.

Guess like songs there are up-tempo and unhurried parts of life. I’m hoping the up-tempo part kicks in soon. Midst all my unorganized thoughts the Beatles “Hello, Goodbye” plays in the background… You say yes, I say no. You say stop and I say go, go, go.

Dying is easy.

For my portfolio for my Leadership, Ethics and Values concentration I had to write my own 'This I believe' statement. It is idea made popular on Nation Public Radio where famous and ordinary people write a 450-550 word statement about what they hold to be very essential to them; a personal statement in a way of their values and ethics through the words of a story, quotes, mini-essay, etc. So this is what I got. This is what at the end of my college career I would say is very close to my core being.

Dying is easy.

“Dying for something is easy because it is associated with glory. Living for something…is the hard thing. Living for something extends beyond fashion, glory or recognition. We live for what we believe,” wrote author Don Miller.

One can do something that is fashionable with relative ease. One can surpass the pain of a self-sacrificing play in a championship game bringing glory to themself and their team in the name of victory. One can prepare and study their entire college career in order to be recognized as summa cum laude on graduation day.

Traveling abroad I have met individuals who go beyond those boundaries to live for people. Living for the people who are undesired, disowned and for the most part forgotten. I am moved by these people’s willingness to care when it is not the popular, easy nor necessarily the action called for. I am moved by people who share their love and serve others despite the void of glory and personal recognition.

In my limited twenty-two years, I have witnessed different situations of poverty, sickness and suffering. Many of these circumstances have been abroad on service trips to different countries in Africa. Returning after my first summer abroad, I found myself getting frustrated with being at home and not being with the Africans I had gotten to know, serve, and love. I had many tearful conversations with my best friend dealing with the frustrations of feeling idle and having the passion to serve without the outlet in which to do so.

My enthusiasm for serving people in Africa was obstructing the larger picture. I do not have to be half way around the world in a foreign environment to achieve serving someone with compassion and care. It is not always a huge act or exotic destination that makes certain people great volunteers or humanitarians.

Mother Teresa once said, “We can do no great things, only small things with great love.” I believe that statement encompasses my passion and effort that I want to show throughout my life. Not to be fashionable, achieve glory, or recognition. Just for the mere purpose that I believe there are no boundaries that can separate me from any other person on this planet. We are one people. If one of us is poor, sick, or suffering than I am also poor, sick, and suffering. I believe living for others is the only way to live. Regardless of status, wealth, or location I have something that can aid another person. We all possess the ability to ease the suffering by continual small acts of living for others and this I believe I pray to never lose sight off.

Peace Corps Update
submitted application: September 22nd
conducted interview: October 23rd
nominated for a position: November 10th
submitted medical packet: January 29th
resubmitted dental files: March 4th
dental files processed: March 20th
two specialists give me a clean bill of health: May 26th
final submission of medical packet: June 8th

god teaching me patience: ever day til I get my assignment
waiting at my mailbox...

Open With Happy

happiness damn near destroys you
breaks your faith to pieces on the floor
so you tell yourself, that’s probably enough for now
happiness has a violent roar
look for it, but you’ll never find it all
but let it go, live your life and leave it
then one day, wake up and she’ll be home
(happiness- the fray)


To Ket open with happy (outside of note)
Dear Ket,
I hope Ket that you not forget me and all anita's home. I wish you luck with your trip. I promise that I study hard so that I go to stay with you there to stay. I love you Ket. I wish you when you go to America greet your family and your friends. God bless you so much.
Tresia

Enough?

This past week I have been helping out at Nyumbani. They care for many, many HIV/AIDS children from ages of not even 2 to 22. It is an amazing program. The first day I went was last Saturday to color with the children and play. This week I have gone to help out in the kitchen which consists of sorting beans, rice, and other vegetables in preparation for cooking.

Sitting looking diligently at large amounts of rice isn’t anything glamorous or exhausting yet it is something that is needed. “I’m volunteering at an orphanage in Africa.” That statement seems packed with so much compassion and adventure. This experience and the past experiences here in Kenya have been quite humbling. Not that I saw myself as anything close to a perfect moral being but I had the idea that I did enough.

Sister Mary who is the head of the orphanage has worked at Nyumbani since 1969. In the early days without HIV drugs 3 to 4 children would pass away a week yet she persistently loved every child like they were going to live to 100 years old. How does someone open their heart to loving a child who is most likely not going to make it? Momma Christine’s caring heart keeps her at Nyumbani away from her own children for 4 day shifts at a time. How does someone care for an orphanage as equally as they do their own child? Sister Julie, an American from Philly, has moved to Kenya and loved these children for the past 5 years. How easy would it be to give up a comfortable American life for an African one?

This women and men give so much of their time, work, attention and love to these children who to many are the most undesirable of all the children in Africa. Anne, Nicholas, Canary, Anthony, Edel, Winnie and all the others were the children who were abandoned by their own families. Yet, walk around Nyumbani for a few minutes and you would soon forget that they were once not loved or cared for. When I look at their faces I don’t see any illness; all I see is a happy loved child.

Coloring books, some clothes, a few random other items and a little of my time was all I had to give them. After the goodbyes, the walk down the drive and a long wait for a matatu, I realized I’m not doing enough.

Seeing is Different than Being Told- Kenya Proverb

Lovely Sunday

I woke up under my mosquito net to the sounds of church services near by. I could look out my windows and see people walking in their Sunday best to their churches. From not adjusting the best to the time change, today I decided to have it be a sleep in Sunday since I was headed to Kibera at around noon.

Slowly dragged myself out of bed to grab a quick breakfast. Wasn’t feeling any sort of eggs so I just kept it simple with toast, fresh bananas and hot cocoa. Enjoyed my breakfast outside. Came back up to my room, had a nice shower and then grabbed two Christian books that I’m reading right now: Becoming the Answers to Our Prayers and Celebration of Discipline. Took in the wonderful sunshine and read some thought provoking works while enjoying the African worship music from the church next door.

It got close to noon dropped my books back off at my room then headed down to the guard stand to chat with the security guards while waiting for Joseph to come meet me. Ruth, the lady guard, and I chatted about the most random collection of things from God to politics to checkers. Eventually Joseph came and we headed off to Kibera for the Sunday Kiscodep meeting.

The meeting was attended by 10 of the members. They ran through minutes from the last meeting and then introduced me to the group. I got to say how I had visited the past two summers and how I’m from North Central College who will also be sending another group to visit in July. They covered some business stuff and then we closed the meeting.

I had originally thought that the meeting and a little visiting was all I was going to do. The Vice Chairmen invited us to go to his home for an early dinner. We walked probably 15 minutes through Kibera to a nicer part of it where is home was located. There we meet his wife who had been preparing the meal. I had some rice, chicken and soup along with a really refreshing Fanta. There was a small television where we watching some interesting African rap music while enjoying our meal.

After the delicious meal, we thanked his wife, and headed back to the office. The one last stop was a time to give away maize that had been bought by the donation from Rick and Desiree which I didn’t realize until I was there. Poorer folk from Kibera had come with bags to get some maize from Kiscodep. Joseph and the others urged me to be the one to scoop the maize for the people. It was strange; here I was the person who only delivered the donation and being thanked. I kept trying to explain it was from Rick and Desiree and I was only the carrier. I also tried to explain to a woman that they gave the money because they see that Kiscodep is doing the Lord’s work and they wanted to make a contribution. Eventually, I handed the bucket off to another member of Kiscodep. Being neutral in a donation situation is very hard line to work. I didn’t want to be involved in the process because I wanted the donation to be seen as works of Kiscodep not the young American girl bringing the resources in. Regardless, who the maize was from they were very gracious people.

Six o’clock rolled around and it was time for me to catch a matatu headed back to Shalom. Someone please call Guinness Book of World Records because today we surpassed the number of people who can fit in one Nissan van with a colossal 18 people! Tomorrow maybe 19…?

Nyumbani via the “Yes We Can”

After a ride on the “Yes We Can” matatu this morning and a 20 minute walk, I got to visit one of my favorite places in Kenya, Nyumbani Children’s Home. It takes in HIV/AIDS babies and children. These kids are cared for probably with the right medicine and nutrition. For the younger children, they live in a little house with a mother and father figure. Older kids are self-sufficient in different homes on the same property.

I was greeted by Sister Mary, an English woman who has been helping run things since 1969. She asked me about my trip and future plans. She told me how she thinks the Peace Corps is a great program run by the U.S. government. After a little chit chat, she was like I’m sure you just want to go play with the children, I definitely responded with a yes.

Oh, how I love the little ones. 5 years and younger kids were playing outside while the older kids did a library, computer, and study time rotation. So there I was, 12 coloring books (thanks Meg), 1 big kit of Crayons and 1 Muzungu to pay attention to about 20 children. It was for sure a good time. The mother from C house, Jean, made sure they did run me over. She was also pointing out many children’s names and told me a brief story of how and when they came to Nyumbani.

Of course I saw Nicolas ‘Salad & Chipees’ boy, Anne, & Winnie but I have two new favorites: Gilbert and Canary. Gilbert was 3 and seriously the best colorer out of all the kids. He was all over the Hulk coloring book. Gilbert was the quietest one as well. He would walk up to me, point to the area he wanted to color then I would hand him the right color. He is new to Nyumbani only coming a month ago because his mother passed away and the father can not properly care for him. Canary was sleeping when I first got there but as soon as he woke up Jean walked out with him and was like you need to meet this little boy. Then for the next couple hours he was attached to me. If I’m remembering right he is 2 years old but very small for his age. He wasn’t well taking care. Jean said when he first came he was so thin with a big swollen belly and could barely sit up he was so weak. Now he is much healthier and has a wobbly walk for a 2 year old but was a lot of fun.

Eventually, it was time for lunch and I took it with C house. This is the home of Nicholas, Gilbert, and Canary. We had chips, soup, some sort of meat (I couldn’t really figure it out, chicken maybe?) and salad. Maybe this is where Nicholas got his famous “salad and chipees” phrase. Anywho, it was great to eat with all the little kids. I didn’t complain like I do at Thanksgiving where I’m 22 but still at the kids table.

After lunch, it is nap time for the little ones but the older kids have free time. So I got to hangout with Edel and her friends. We colored and chatted. One boy came over and was like can I please color the high school musical coloring book. I apologized saying I didn’t have one of those and tried to make him feel better with the Spiderman one. He wasn’t too disappointed but then he explained how much he liked the movies and how he has seen all three. I told him I hadn’t seen any of them and he looked at me as if I were crazy. It made me laugh. Eventually 4ish rolled around and I thought it was getting to be the time that I needed to head back to Shalom. I thanked Sister Mary for allowing me to come. I might be going back during the week to help with whatever chores might need to be done.

20 minute walk back to the nearest big junction and then caught a 111 matatu toward Shalom. I, thinking I was being clever, tried to pick a matatu that looked empty. Oh boy, do those things fill up so quickly. I ended up sitting next to a preacher. He began chatting with me asking if I was American and what was a doing riding in a Matatu. He told me most Muzungus are scared. I told him that I’m comfortable in Kenya and if there is to be trouble that I was grew up between two brothers and know how to handle myself. He got a laugh out of that. He told me how he had studied in Chicago at Loyola and that he misses the snow. The ride was probably not more than a 10-15minute ride. Then jumped out at my stop.

The security guard named Julius welcomed me back and asked how my visit went. We stood there and chatted for a few minutes. With how excited he is to chat with me, I am guessing that the average Westerners that come through don’t probably have much time for him. The random little conversations are what I enjoy the most. I have noticed that I am the only Muzungu who eats dinner at Baraza. If there are other Westerners they often eat at the Italian restaurant in the compound. And I have yet to see any other white people in a Matatu. They are missing out on the experience.