September 12th - Kenyan Reflections

I'm back on a plane – a plane is a plane is a plane. And the image I can't get out of my mind is of the school. I'm so glad I was here for 3 weeks and was able to see the school in action and really teach – it absolutely made the experience for me. Leaving, I was really torn – in many ways, caterpillars being a big one, I was ready to go – on the other hand, I felt like I was leaving too soon – just starting to scratch the surface with my teaching and getting to know the kids.

Part of why I wanted to have this experience was to see how I'd do – and would I want to go back for longer another time. So, how did I find it? Could I stay for longer?

• It was incredibly different (e.g. the slums, the kids in old western clothes, being crammed in a matatu) and yet there was enough the same (the supermarkets, the fruit and veg, the wifi), that I found it very manageable. I'd thought I'd be surprised by the degree of difference and also by the degree of similarity and I was right.
• I was starting to get tired of the structure of living in the house (e.g. cooking for a group – a few 'make it yourself' simple nights would be great, the same lights out time etc.) and I never slept really, really well while there – I think due to the crowded shared accommodations – I would definitely need to be able to sleep soundly to stay longer. There was also a strange, but understandable, dynamic in the house – two distinct communities, the volunteers and the staff, with a not fully equitable distribution of household chores, that was starting to grate.
• I would have liked to become more integrated in the school - have a chance to work with the kids on a longer term basis and really get to know them and see them learn and develop. Both of those take time. But I can't imagine how impossibly hard it would be to leave them then.
• The hardest aspect of staying longer would be socially – the network is small and I think potentially becomes replaced with the internet and Facebook – I would really miss my family, friends, the regular aspects of life – dinners, coffees, yoga classes etc.

Net, net, could I do it? I could. Do I want to? I'm not sure - possibly. One of the gifts of the experience was that I am continuing to build my confidence and comfort traveling anywhere – which only increases the number of places I want to see. My preference is definitely to do it with someone, ideally male :-) but I can do it. I can stay in $6 a night accommodation – and also appreciate the $60 a night nice hotel with pool every once and a while :-) (Ed. Note – I'm in India and was just looking at a map … do you know how close I am right now to Afghanistan, Pakistan and Nepal??? and my curiosity is there ... any takers?)

Another lesson I'm learning – just how much trust and openness go hand in hand – in Africa, I found openness easier than trust – in part because trust also seemed linked to safety – and yet, I can work hard to ensure I'm never stolen from - even when the probability is so minimal - but is that really how I want to live my life? And I know when you give trust, you can be surprised by what you get back in return – a very high ROI nines times out of 10 and those odds are ok with me. Now how do I put it into practice more in the moment?

I'm watching The Soloist on the plane to Amsterdam – a beautiful story of helping 1 among 90,000 and the impact that can have. You may not be able to solve the problem, but you can help and – the lesson of the film – touching and helping one person, becomes much more about what you learn about yourself. As the credits run, and Beethoven plays, I have tears running down my face as I type this. It is worth it to help one person – to put one smile on someone's face – the gift back to myself is priceless. For all my lack of trust and openness at times, I have such love to give – and in the past I haven't expressed it nearly as much as I've wanted to. I've lived without truly giving and sharing love on a daily basis and that is no way to live at all. I believe that is my ultimate lesson learned from the children and my time in Kenya.

And now I must go blow my nose as I'm starting to get a few strange looks on the plane :-)

To end on a lighter note, I've also been remembering some of my favorite 'Madam' moments ...

• we were making paper crowns with the kids which required tape construction to finish them off – I was the only one with tape, so all I kept hearing was “ask Madam Susan” and then “Madam”, “Madam” - at points I was swarmed with all these faces wanting to be next ... my attempt at order - “you #1, you #2, you #3” inevitably fell quickly back into disarray.
• when I would bring out my camera, again chaos ... “Madam, me” ... “Madam, me”
• in the classroom, there were a number of different “Madam”s with different intents and intonations ... the very formal and in unison start to the day “good morning Madam, how are you?”, the plaintiff “Madam, I don't understand” or the more incredulous “Madam” - heavy emphasis on the last syllable – “all 8 questions???” and my favorite, the faster, attention grabbing, prouder “Madam” when they were finished and wanted their work marked.

I've been called “Ma'am” in the southern US and now again “Madam” in India – both make me feel far to formal and removed, detached - I'll say this, I'll take a Kenyan child's “Madam” any day of the week ... and add on a “How Are You?” and I can't help but smile :-)