Can’t understand anyone, again. Call it a journey…part. 3

Feb 26 |

Before we began our journey to the other side of the country, I failed to realize that most of the people there would’t speak English or Kiswahili. Ok, maybe that is a bit exaggerated, but at least the young ones and the older ones couldn’t. When we first arrived I was introduced to a few of M’s older relatives, one being his 88 yr old grandma. She sat outside of their mud and wood home, content to allow the commotion go on elsewhere. I thought to myself, I know enough Kiswahili to say hi and introduce myself, let’s see how this goes. After a couple of minutes of trying, I just figured I wasn’t pronouncing something correctly and that she had an odd way of saying things. Usually it goes a little better than this. I just smiled and nodded, the appropriate response to someone when you have no idea what they are saying or an ability to respond intelligently. One of the younger cousins came up and greeted me. It was then that she began speaking to the grandmother in Kiluo, a tribal language which I knew nothing about. So began my time, much like when we first moved to Kenya, when I didn’t understand the bulk of what was being said.

“I think we are the wheelbarrows”…Call it a journey pt.2

Feb 17 |

At M’s place where we travelled to there is no running water or electricity. I went with them to fetch water once, taking a 30 minute walk with 4 donkeys and filling jerry cans. It is amazing how strong those donkeys are and funny how stubborn they can be. The most amazing thing was watching a young lady take a full 20 liter jerry can, swiftly sling it up onto her head and effortlessly walk away. She even managed to pick something up off the ground as she departed. Having carried some of the cans just a few yards gave me a tremendous appreciation for what I just witnessed.

Call it a journey…pt. 1

Feb 7 |

When one of The Boys, M, lost his mom it was hard to know how to support and help. The first thing that came to mind was make sure he could travel home for the funeral, on the other side of the country. Then I mentioned to Erika that I might offer to go with him, not knowing what he would say. When I offered, it seemed like he was a bit surprised, but appeared happy that I would go with him. So we spent about a week together. It started with a bus ride that went from 6am and ended at 9:30 pm.