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.

Read to me. Nisomee.

Here's how it's done...

This August we had our first "Story Hour" where our sponsored students read children's books to the young neighborhood children.

Since the concept of reading to small children is a new one in the community I'm serving, we had a practice session, where I gave an example of reading aloud.  We then had each student practice by passing a book around and everyone taking a page in the story.

Then on Friday afternoons, the students read in pairs to groups of children from the neighborhood. It was a win-win that we'll do again.

Owen and Kevin reading

Hesborn's turn

Douglas and Ali sharing a stump to read.

Listening and watching

Eliakim and Alex reading under the trees.

Check out the turtle! I love the enthusiam.  
Good work by Henry.

Engrossed in Dorcas' story

Dedan reading a favorite from when I was little.

Who am I? Mimi ni nani?

Of the 100 young people that the HOPE project is helping pursue an education, 15 of them are studying in a vocational program.  I realized during the last term break that these young people have different needs than my other students.  Most of them were not able to pass the national exam at the end of primary school and did not have a chance to finish high school.   

I decided to try something new and design a workshop just for them.  Through contacts at one of the local vocational centers, I was able to get a team willing to try to fit in a variety of topics in two-days of activities that might help these young people.

The plan:

Our objective:  build self-awareness & self-respect, preparing to enter the workforce, either as a trades-person or a small business owner or employee.

Day 1:  Personal development:  Who am I?  What are my strengths & weaknesses?  How do I communicate?  How do I deal with conflict?  Am I a leader?  What leadership skills do I admire?  How do I handle stress?  How can my personal beliefs help me when I am facing difficult circumstances?

Day 2:  Professional development:  What skills do I have?  How can I market my skills?  How do I go about starting a business?  Am I ready for an interview?

The results:  in pictures...

Many of our students don't know how to communicate effectively.  The students were given two example scenarios and then presented their own skits about communication.   I loved this definition!

Esther, Narsis and Stanley working on a conflict diagram

Bevalyne giving her small group's ideas on how job hunting

Abigail explaining how she's started her own catering business by making pilau.

Nickson sharing his views on ways to build a resume.

Mercy goes for a practice interview with "management" team Martin and Nickson.

These two days of workshops exceeded my expectations - we had great facilitation and great participation by the students.  I hope we can do follow-up individual coaching, particularly around their personal development plans, helping them prepare their resumes and continuing to build their self-confidence.

Highlights from students' feedback included learning how to express themselves, knowing their strengths AND seeing that one doesn't need to be ashamed of a weakness. It can be room to grow.  

Our future.  Note:  I'm still working on getting them to smile for the camera... 

The widow's mite

My newest donor is an orphan from Mombasa.  How do you show your appreciation to a gift that you cannot hardly believe is possible?

Last weekend I received a phone call from one of the young men I know, an orphan who I helped get some casual work earlier this year.  He was helping building a new house and was known for his prompt arrival in the morning and for doing anything needed, usually ending up with the dirty physical labor of carrying and mixing cement.  He almost always had the same outfit on and was covered in dust, but he would smile & wave as I passed on my way to the office. 

This time Martin called me to tell me he'd found a job - as a security guard for an international company.  He was so proud.  I was happy to hear that he'd be paid a better wage than most guards - 10,000 Kenyan shillings or about $120 per month.  In American standards, not great, especially for 12-hour days, six days a week.  He told me he'd come to see me on his "off-day." 

I was still a bit surprised when today Martin came to our office, dressed in style!  He's being switched to a new site and was called to say that he'll need to work nights, but he's still happy with it.  His last assignment was at a tea packing place so they gave him two cups of tea - one in the morning & one in the afternoon, which was good since he doesn't get a lunch break.  He told me that it was okay, he didn't need to eat anyway.  He then started telling me about how he wanted to buy a uniform for a student that didn't have one.  I assumed he meant a neighbor boy that he had offered to have live with him while the other boy was going to school.  But when I asked about the boy, Martin said, no, the money is for one of my students.  He told me he thought 2000 shillings would be enough, and if I'd be around, he'd go to the bank right now and withdraw it. 

So he did. 
He gave me a fifth of his income.  
Two months rent. 
A third of the money he's going to try to save to go back to school.
Can you imagine?

I still can't believe it.  I know in my head that it was driven by his desire to help someone else, like all of the donors who help me do the work I do.  He told me how grateful he was that he had a job now,  that he wanted to show his appreciation.

And so how do I appreciate someone else's appreciation?

I am overwhelmed by his generosity.

Maisha magumu ... it's a hard life

Today was my first full day back at work since returning from vacation.

It's fascinating to be back in a culture different than my own.  I'm more aware of the non-verbal communication than what I may do naturally in my own culture.  Here an glance may mean yes, looking away meaning no.  Hugging on both sides or tapping foreheads as a sign of greeting - those are things that are new again, yet familiar since I've now lived in East Africa for 3 and a half years.  Respect is shown in words and in silence.  And working with teenagers, I've found silence is also a way of avoiding the reality.

About half of the children the HOPE project supports are partial orphans, which means that they've lost one parent to AIDS and their remaining parent is HIV+ and unable to support them to school.  These are the lucky ones.  They still have a mother who's usually willing to struggle to help them, even if she cannot afford their daily bread.

Two of the students I met today are total orphans, who live with aunt and uncles.  Both of these kids are ones for whom most people would say "maisha ni magumu."  Life is hard. Whether it's that the aunt is tired of caring for the children of her sister who passed away 15 years ago or that she finds the constant needs too much for her patience, it's tough for the child, especially for kids going through the tumultuous teenage years.

Eric did well in primary school and his older brother managed to get a chance at going to a good university.  But the last two years have been a tough transition for Eric, with his brother gone at school, his uncle busy at work and his aunt just not interested in him, his performance dropped and he found that being the class clown was more fun than being serious about his studies.  Now with a reputation and being far behind in his classes, it's almost too late to catch up. 

It's the students who's guardians don't show up - whether it's at parent meetings at the school or when we try to meet with them - that I feel for.  Life is hard enough for a teenager without being loved by the people around him everyday.  Mercy is another girl who's aunt doesn't always give her the care she needs - but today she came with another student we support, who's also studying hairdressing.  Sometimes having a friend is all you need to make the world seem like a better place and that life isn't so hard.

Having spent a month with my own family and friends, seeing Eric and Mercy again remind me why I'm here.  Hopefully to help them have a life that isn't so hard in the years to come.

Thanks to all my friends at home that support me in what I do.

Something to hope for...

Hello friends!  Here's an unfinished post with a few photos from May... I've just finished an amazing month in the USA visiting friends & family and will put in some fun captions after I return to Kenya! Off to the airport now (June 19th)!

 

Although May is now coming to a close, it started with three days of activities for the HOPE students.  

 

After Easter we had our office open each day for our students to study.  Our tutor, Ben, would give the high school students practice tests in the morning and they'd take turns answering the questions on a blackboard.  I was thrilled we had over 20 students come for tutoring.  Only 8-10 can fit inside our office/library, so we had benches set up outside for overflow.

We also had 2 days of workshops for the students aged 13 and older.  A highlight for the students was a visit from a young female lawyer who works on justice and peace issues in the area.  We also had a session on the environment and a relay race designed to include team building and problem solving activities.

We are trying to help the students identify different skills they have.

One of the relay activities was building a Lego boat by sending "scouts" one at a time to look at the instructions.

None of the students had ever seen Legos before! 

The winning team

We also want to encourage students to give back and volunteer, so we had a church "clean-up" day.

Another highlight of May was getting together with the guardians of 8th grade students, since it's a high-pressure year for students.  Many of the guardians were able to offer suggestions on how to face specific problems - which was especially helpful for the two young men who are now guardians for their younger sisters.

We had a very generous donation of books from a book drive at St James School of Red Bank NJ in memory of Rose Rusch.  You can read about her and the foundation started in her honor here.  The students in the Red Bank Catholic High School Maryknoll Affiliates raised money for the bookshelf in this photo and now it's full of books!  I'm particularly excited about the opportunity these books have given for the young girls who were waiting to start a vocational course to improve their English & to encourage all of our students to read.

This photo slipped in from April - the Maryknoll Lay Missioners of Kenya!

As part of our environment day, we had a competition of which team could find the most materials in the area to recycle.

Esther and Maxmilla taking a break.

Titus checking out the local garbage pile for recyclables.

Comparing who brought back the most plastic bottles.

Since one of my hobbies is composting, we had a lesson in composting natural waste, too!

The winning team, Team Orange

The 2nd place team, Team White (it was almost a tie!)

Super Moon in Mombasa

Pasaka Njema - Happy Easter!

It's Easter.  The man in the moon looks like a rabbit in this part of the world and it's almost full so it might have been the Easter Bunny...

This Holy Week I've been fully engaged in the activities of the local church and my small Christian Community.  It's been one event after another and I'm grateful for the 4-day weekend, as Good Friday and Easter Monday are both national holidays in Kenya.  This year is my fifth Easter in another language (German in 2002, French in Rwanda in 2008, and now three years in Swahili). It's sometimes still difficult catching the words so I have to let myself listen to the Spirit and move with the familiar liturgy. 

I was asked to read during the Palm Sunday liturgy.  People were surprised I could read so well ... in English!  Thanks to Sr. Milda at Our Lady of Grace & even further back, my training at St. Thomas Aquinas in Ames.  =)

I've been reflecting on what it means to believe in resurrection - new life can come from death.  Does it come from every death?  Every letting go of what might have been or what we had dreamed possible?  Challenges I have no answers for?  I continue to want answers to difficult questions and struggle to surrender my "need" to know in the midst of uncertainty.

There have also been moments of grace this Holy Week that I hope to remember.

• A dreaded meeting where we came up with a solution that saved face for another without re-writing history.  
• An unexpected gift.  
• Finding a young person as excited about recycling as I am and meeting a group making "charcoal" from newspapers.
• Sharing Vitamin O ... the ocean with a friend
• Rain
• Peace within
• Being proud of our Archbishop speaking out about injustice in Kenya's leadership

There's another story that cannot fit into a bullet point, a story of a young girl who was attacked this week.  For a few days I was so sad for her, but words cannot describe the relief now that she's going to be okay.  But for so many others, I hope for better endings to their stories.  For an end to violence.

All of these bring me back to my center.  My belief in a God of Love.  A God who's stories have been told in many ways, sometimes with violence - perhaps in our human way of expressing what is inexpressible.  I continue to hope that Love will find a way.