Mgeni ni baraka - A visitor is a blessing

It's been one adventure after another the last three days, since I've had a friend in town.  In the midst of a children protection meeting, visits with guardians and people seeking assistance and home visits, it's been a delight to share moments of my life here with a friend from home.

I'm reminded once again what a blessing it is to be here, to walk in the midst of the on-going struggles of life around me and be welcomed in various ways.  It also has it's challenges, since in some way I am still a visitor.  Yesterday was a day where many parts of my work almost happened simultaneously.  Highlights for me were meeting the HIV+ support group and talking about compost (one of my hobbies), listening to a student learn together with my friend about English and Swahili and life, and walking into one of the neighborhoods I serve with my colleague.

It was one of those walks that you might be able to envision ... starting off the main road through an alley separating trucking company lots into a maze of walk-ways between small informal shops and iron-roof covered stands selling charcoal, fried food or vegetables,  then opening up into a broad view of what looks like a delta - the Tudor creek, which expands and contracts with the tide.  As we walk down the hill on a dusty path that soon will be thick mud when the rains start, there are shower stalls made of grass and tarps above us and things no longer wanted covering the hillside.  Ahead is a large pipeline and low trees that survive in the constantly moving waters, goats tied on ropes to graze and a scattering of shacks.  These homes are for those who cannot afford the rent of the iron-sheeted, cement block rooms above, but somehow manage to put together enough materials to make a shelter.

I had promised a gentleman who has trouble walking that I would visit him sometime back, and having a visitor myself, it was a good reason to get out of the office and into the community.  We carried simple gifts of rice, beans, flour, sugar, and tea, and entered his simple home, much more simple than I had expected. His arms are sinewy but his face is bright with an easy smile, someone I'm happy to meet again.  As the plastic around us shifted in the wind, I tried to make sense of our conversation - I still struggle to understand Swahili, depending on the speed, accent and words - but I had two delightful women with me to assist. 

I learned Daudi is a carpenter.  We carried newly bought stools back up the hill with us & the nurse I work with and I helped young girls with their water jugs, filled from the creek below.  These moments are ones to treasure.  It is such a blessing to be a visitor and to be reminded what a gift it is to have one, too.