Waiting ... Tunasubiri

Joshua showing us how his nail was stained after voting to prevent people from voting twice. 

People were showing it with pride.

Kenya had a high turnout of voters on Monday.  And they waited a long time to vote.  Some up to 11 hours.  No food, no water, just waiting.  I have to give the voters a lot of credit.  The line at the polling station near us had about 1000 people lined up at 10 am.

There's actually two words in Swahili for waiting.  Ku-subiri and Ku-njoga.  (For those lovers of linguistics, the "ku" in front makes it the infinitive form - the verb stem is then conjugated based on the subject and tense.)

I am waiting ... Ninasubiri / Ninangoja
You are waiting ... Unasubiri / Unangoja
He/she is waiting ... Anasubiri / Anangoja
We are waiting .. Tunasubiri / Tunangoja
You (plural) are waiting ... Mnasubiri / Mnangoja
They are waiting ... Wanasubiri / Wanangoja

It is now a waiting game.  It's been two days since the election.  The Independent Electoral and Boundaries Commission has 7 days to announce the results, but had speculated they would have results in 48 hours.

About half the votes are counted, with one candidate ahead, but progress is slow.   It's hard to be patient.

But while we're waiting ... at least we have live evening entertainment.

I got roped into the performances... fortunately I found my niche as a puppeteer.

The stars of the show (note the house of Belli the Butterfly in the bottom left).

Do you believe in miracles?

 Today, March 4th, 2013, is a big day for Kenya.  One that the country has been waiting for over 5 years.
The first under its new constitution.  The first since the country almost erupted into civil war in 2008, when over 1000 people were killed and over 100,000 displaced from their homes.  From the perspective of an Iowa girl who grew up on a family farm, it's hard to imagine being chased off by your neighbors, losing your sense of home and place and community.

Five years later, the two candidates running neck-and-neck with 40+% of the vote each are from long-standing political families.  One lost the election 5 years ago, but some claim it was stolen from him - and he's been the Prime Minister in a power-sharing deal that was brokered by international mediators to stop the country's collapse in 2008.  The other is the son of the first president and to start trial in April at the International Criminal Court for his role in the violence 5 years ago.  It is complicated.

On top of that, in the new Constitution, power is to be "devolved" or moved down to a more local level, with newly established counties that will be run by governors  & local parliaments.  Women are to have at least 30% of the positions so there's now 6 positions to vote for:  President, Governor, Senator, Women's Representative, National Minister of Parliament and County Assembly Representative.

The last weeks have been filled with full-on campaigning.  It started with graffiti months ago, then came the huge bill boards, then small wall posters, some on cardboard boxes hanging from power lines, some torn down  & pasted over with those of rival candidates - and vehicles painted with campaign signs and carrying speakers BLARING music or speeches or prayers - all in support of a candidate.  A lot of money is being spent.  Sound familiar?  Trucks with TV screens showing candidate's extolling how they will change the country, the county or your neighborhood for the better.  Healthcare, education, land disputes, economy, jobs, sanitation, fighting corruption, should i mention the economy again?  Occasionally the mention of high speed trains  & computers for every child... the promises go on.

Today has finally come.  The morning is off to a rocky start.  I've been worried - burdened more than necessary - as I talk to my friends and people I meet.  Worried that the change promised won't come.  That opportunists will use the election as a reason to cause trouble.  That the future won't be as bright as it could be.  Many Kenyans have told me that it is only God who can intervene.  Faith is strong here & I find myself more a skeptic, wanting to tell them that God needs people to make the change.

I traveled to Nairobi this week to meet with my colleagues about the work we are doing and have been trying to shake off my gloom, remembering change takes time and that it's not up to me to solve all the problems I see.  This morning our community met at 7 am to pray together.   Fr John started off our Mass with the words... Do I believe in miracles?  I do.  Perhaps there will not be a dramatic change in politics or in the structures I see failing the people I serve this year.  But perhaps the people willing to stand in line all day in the hot sun will feel that their vote mattered.  Perhaps things will look brighter once this election goes down in history.  There will be a big collective sigh of relief and people will move on with their lives and laugh about how disruptive all the campaigns & noisy slow-moving caravans were.


So now I'm praying not for one big miracle, but many small ones.  Tomorrows filled with hope for those who have lived with despair.  I have learned many things in Kenya, but one I've seen so many times is the ability to be patient and persevere.

Napenda Kwaresima - I like Lent.

Today, Ash Wednesday, starts Lent.  Lent is the 40 days before Easter, a time for some Christian traditions of prayer, fasting (or giving up something ...), and giving to the poor.  Over the years, I've given up coffee, snacks, favorite bad habits, but I've found more meaning in seeing Lent as a time for change.  A new start.

I was asked how I've changed over the past three years and I'm yet to find the answer, but my time in Mombasa certainly has been a spiritual journey - one of many challenge and many times starting anew.  Our group of 7 Maryknoll Lay Missioners left New York in December 2009 with our motto of 'How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news.'  Some days I wonder what good news I bring - or I realize I haven't any good news that day...

So again and again, we start anew.  Not just in mission, but in life.  A friend/co-worker and I had a little saying in our work in Northridge - It's a new day.  This Lent I am reflecting more and hope to share some of that with you.

New handshakes - a game from Brenda, our youth specialist/family friend who came to visit with my sisters in January.

Yesterday I had visitors from two families in my office arrive late in the afternoon.   One conversation was filled with nuances as we danced around the ideas of truth and fairness.  We had sponsored a lovely young girl for two years under false pretenses and her aunt was trying to get us to continue - and then instead proposed we "exchange" her son's name for the young girl's in the project.  We both laughed and tried to get our points across.  I was happy to have my assistant Flora to listen in and make sure my Swahili skills were sufficient.  (Sometimes I find out later that I didn't quite communicate what I meant.)  This time I think we understood each other.

My other visitors were more bittersweet - two young ladies that have been assisted and are now trying to do hairdressing work from their home while they care for their disabled mother.  My heart goes out to them and I wish I could do more to make their lives easier. 

My prayer this Lent comes from Psalm 51

Still, you insist on sincerity of heart; in my inmost being teach me wisdom.

Sharing Adventures

Recently I was blessed with my sisters and another good friend coming to visit me in Kenya.

Letters from my students

 When I met the Board Members for my project in October, they suggested that we have all of our students, in 6th grade & above, write a letter about themselves.  These letters are now starting to filter in and I was really moved by one today.  I am reminded, time and again, how much most of my students struggle to keep their head above water in a tough education system.  This young man inspires me to keep going, even when it seems like we're not making as much progress as I'd like. 

13-Dec-2012

Dear HOPE Project Board members,

                How are you? I hope you are fine.  I am a 16 year old boy. I am honest, respectful and punctual.  I learn in a nearby school called St. Charles Lwanga Secondary School. I am in form two but I will be in form three next year.  We are three children in our family and I am the last born. My hobbies are playing football and visiting friends but I also like listening to music.

                I hope to be a doctor in future because I like to know more about the human body and I also like biology.  I also hope to increase my performance both in grade and marks because I have been reducing in performance this year.  I performed very well in form one term three because in form one the things which we had been taught was not so much. But since I entered in form two, I have been dropping slightly in performance, one of the reasons for this was because the syllabus was increasing in content.  In form two term three I also dropped in performance, I think this is because of the term being short and also there was a teacher’s strike which was on for three weeks. When the teachers returned to school for the third term, they were rushing to cover and finish the syllabus.  We had to work extra hard in order to cover what we did not cover during the strike and to complete the syllabus.  There was also need to spare some time for revising and writing notes in subjects which we write on our own. The challenges which I have is that in my time table, I have one subject at 3:30 am but I don’t always wake up to study the subject.  Another challenge is that I lack a light which is good for my health in which I can use it to study at home because the one I am using produces a lot of smoke and soot.  Another challenge is that I lack a table in which my knees can go under it so that I can study in a good posture.  What I have to change to reach my goals is lazyness in order for me to wake up at 3:30 am and study my morning subject.  Another change is to move to a house having electricity so that I can read and study comfortable without any health effect.

                I will like the hope project to continue helping in paying my school fees, buying me a new pair of uniform. I thank HOPE project for the assistance they have given me like paying for my school fees, buying me pairs of uniform and offering us with revision textbooks and a place for studying.  I am so grateful for HOPE project. May God bless you.

Amani (Note from Mary: His name means peace in Swahili)

 Wishing you and our world Peace this holiday season.

HOPE Theatre

This week we had visitors at HOPE Project.  I asked my students last week what they'd like to do when they come and the resounding answer was drama.  Skits are very popular here as a part of story-telling, competitions or part of events where drama groups get paid for sharing a skit with a certain message. 

These skits often have serious subject matter, although they can also have a bit of comedy.  What I find interesting is how the students' drama reflects what they experience.  Violence is portrayed as a way to resolve disagreements, which I suppose is all too common in Western entertainment as well.  

The two drama performances had the themes of the dangers of drug use and the importance of education. I was impressed with the number of scenes the children came up with and the layers of issues that came up in the performances: trust, respect for elders (or lack of it with elders without formal education), student bullying and even students' hygiene!

The Primary Students' Performance - Scene 1 - Unknowing parents give money to their children for drugs

Scene 4 - Crying about being misunderstood

The closing scene - All ends well when a neighbor pays the fine for the children.

Moving to our second drama, by the high school students.  "Fredrick" right, faces off with his father.

Some issues are not easy to resolve in a 15 minute play...

The other students were captivated.

Our stage is the foyer outside the project office (and the restrooms).

The drama included a Parent-Teacher's meeting - which revealed a lot about how my students perceive these meetings - and their relationships with their guardians.

Overall, it was a good show!

Our last performance was a beautiful solo about how far education will take you.

 
After the drama performances, we divided into groups to have reading circles with our guests - as all took turn reading aloud and learning new words - one of the techniques we are using to help improve our student's vocabulary and reading confidence.

Mary helping two of our girls choose which book to read.

Shirley sharing a story about Patch, a horse.

Jane reading about Junie B. Jones' adventures.

Fr Bill and the boys read a story about smugglers!

We then divided into two groups to visit the homes of two of my students.

We had an encore performance by one of my student's younger sister.

A family I am proud to have supported.

Thanks to our visitors for coming and reading with us!

I'm happy to report that the books that our visitors helped us start are continuing in our daily reading circles.  I have six recent high school graduates who were supported by the project and are now volunteering with us.  They are even helping the students with new words and spelling words!  I love it!  And I hope it helps our young ones learn to love to read.

Death and new life

The last two months have been wrought with experiences and emotions.  August and September were a flurry of activity – I lost myself in moving from one thing to the next, knowing I had more than I wanted to manage but trying to juggle and savor.  Just when things were settling down, a colleague who has been supportive of me suddenly lost her husband.  Our roles reversed and it was my time to support her.  I accompanied her to her husband’s home area for the burial.  It was painful and yet not my pain.  There is a heaviness about grief and also a sacredness.  There are moments of that week that may stay with me forever, if moments can last that long. 

 

I have learned many things these past weeks but one is a deeper appreciation for “kusindikiza” – a tradition of accompanying another along the way.  Here it is done as a sign of welcome and respect. when a guest leaves, it’s what is done to show them how much you value their coming and a sign that they are welcome again – you walk them (or in some cases, join them on the local mini-bus called a matatu ) some of their way home.  The further you walk, the better.  For those who are mourning a loved one, or even a distant relative, it becomes important to escort them “home” or to travel with the casket to the home village for burial in the family land – sometimes hours away in an overcrowded bus.  

 

A burial here often takes place many days after the death, as it takes time to raise the necessary funds for the arrangements – 5 buses of people went with us.  All of the visitors need to be fed, at least three meals, perhaps more if they stay on to keep the bereaved company.  The family home was already crowded when we arrived.  I found a small space on the floor in the center room, not far from the casket, and tried to stretch my legs, swollen and cramped from the hours of standing, waiting for the body to be released, and then sitting immobile for the 6-hour trip to their home.  As a special guest, I was later asked to wait in the master bedroom with other close family members, listening to the songs, prayers, and weeping from behind the curtain separating us from the main room.  The night was long, with loud music playing outside and women cooking on open fires.  A bare light bulb shown above me and the other three women who tried to sleep sideways on the bed.  I think the light was left on for any necessary nighttime navigation around the others sleeping in every possible space on the floor.  I woke to wailing and stumbled to sit with my friend.  Grief is so hard.  The cement floor was cold but the others around me welcoming, sharing a bit of blanket or cushion borrowed from a chair.  These were moments where time seemed to slow down, painful and raw. Writing brings them back and I hope they are not tarnished in the sharing. 

For me, it was a trip of accompanying my friend as she moved forward into the unknown, a new life with more responsibilities and, unfortunately, many times less rights.  Just last week, we went together to visit another friend who lost her husband to a tragic road accident and I heard a familiar phrase.  “Imeshapoa”  - a shortened Swahili phrase for “it’s already okay”.  Which of course, it isn’t.  But somehow life goes on.

 

Last night I was able to be part of another sacred moment.  My friend’s sister gave birth to her first child.  It happened quickly, and I arrived as he just was two-hours old.  The cycle of life continues.