From My Diary
About Cursed Water & Blessed Rain
I don’t normally believe in anything supernatural. But life has a way of shaking up your beliefs sometimes.
We were looking at a bonfire in the Samburuland, sitting on a log in the woods, eating the goat slaughtered for our arrival. In front of us, morani were dancing. I had no idea people could jump that high. Samburu girls were dressed colorfully, their beads elegant, their young men partially wrapped in shukas, hair long, spears in hands, a deep sound coming out of their throats and serving as a beat to the song, ululating in between the lines, endless energy in their voices and moves.
We had just gotten back from a mini safari ride to the Olentile lodge, and without stopping by the manyatta to drop my things, I went straight to the bonfire. Read the rest of this entry »
The Beautiful Samburu
I hope that after a sad post, this one will be a breath of fresh air. “I’m hearing only bad news from radio Africa” comes to mind… Well, there were some negative things here and there, but I definitely have more positive memories about Kenya.
This was supposed to be a post about my somewhat unbelievable Samburu “adventure”. But then I got carried away describing how I ended up in Samburu and what I was doing there. I didn’t want to cut that short, because I think that’s interesting, too. So here’s the story about Samburu. I’ll write about my crazy adventure next.
Two Cows for a Childhood
I lower my head and step into the darkness, where a teenage girl welcomes me with a smile, a little boy cuddled in her arms. Her worn out white dress, studded with tiny blue flowers, nearly reaches her ankles, creating an image too serious for her age. The boy must be around 2 years old, and the girl is in her teens.
“Where is the mother?” I ask the woman who brought us here.
“She is the mother,” Virginia says. Read the rest of this entry »
A Gift
“If I know a song of Africa… will Africa ever know a song of me?”
– Karen Blixen, Out of Africa
(From Fri., Nov. 7)
I was on my way home for a lunch break when halfway through, on a reddish path amidst a bunch of thorny trees, I heard someone calling my Kimaasai name, “Naisoi!”
I turned around and saw a girl running after me. I recognized her. She was the one who grabbed my hand Wednesday and promised that she’d bring something for me today. (We had no school yesterday because of the “Obama day”).
She caught up with me and pulled two colorful strings of beads off her wrist. She then put them on mine, twisting the two together into a pretty shape, a sea wave of every possible color. Read the rest of this entry »
Life in the Maasailand: school and family
I love the Maasailand. It is hard not to. It is so easy to like and be liked here, to give and accept, to listen and hear. People are kind, sincere and humble. They take great pride in their ways, yet they open their minds easily. You have to keep your mind wide open too, because new experiences await you aroud every corner. While people are good, life is often hard, and it is important to be flexible and patient. Read the rest of this entry »
I Bless the Rains Down in Africa
To experience true rebirth of your world, wait for the rain in Kenya. Wait just long enough during the intolerably hot dry season and you, too, will be reborn.
We had a week of the most impossible, scorching heat, when the back of your neck feels like a skillet, and the tiny drops of sweat emerge just under the tip of your nose. Read the rest of this entry »
Ngong Hills and Little Blue Uniforms
…or some of my most memorable Kenyan moments
* A forth grader with a beaming face jumps up and hits himself in the chest, shouting out loud, “She’s my teacher! She’s my teacher!” as I’m introduced to one of my classes.
* A tall girl from my team hits the ball my direction and yells “mzungu” (a white person) so loud that all eyes turn to me. Volleyball is not my game, but these are my seventh graders and I can’t let them down. I feel my knees shake under pressure as I score. Read the rest of this entry »
Guardian Angels
Bright afternoon sun was wondering through the open door and along the floor of our living room, to the simple but comfy blue couches Simon picked, on which out guests sat. It was a sweet, relaxing Sunday, and the conversation revolved around motherly love.
Suddenly, I heard Maggie sob on the chair to my right. Read the rest of this entry »
Black and White
I know, I said I’d try to write on weekends. And I’ve tried. But the Internet access I have (or rather don’t have) is far from adequate, so without further explanations, I’ll get to the point.
To say that I love it in the Maasailand in Kenya would be saying nothing. Words are weak carriers of the things I see, hear and learn every day. Life is comprised of drastic differences here: Read the rest of this entry »
Where Do I Start?
Welcome to my blog on Africa. It’s the way for me to share what I’m doing and why I’m doing it, the way to hopefully organize these piles of napkins with writing all over them, the countless files on my desktop and the restless thoughts in my head.
I’m flying to Nairobi October 29 for a short orientation (I think) and then heading to Kimuka, a Maasai village not far from Ngong. Read the rest of this entry »
Dreaming of Africa 