Another Day

Hot hot sweat hot, drip drip, deep wide brown eyes silent children, dust dirt sweat..laughter singing dancing..women old wrinkled, tall bundles on their heads, mama, red purple bright colors on the women..sit sit listen listen sometimes understand..wait wait..roads rutted with mud holes ..clouds sucking up the air..rain crashing on the car..noise noise.. cow dung for menstrual pads..girls waiting listening..parents hoping waiting..will they work with us? Keep going..another school..torn dresses.. dirty feet…mud mud clinging everywhere..pineapples sweet juice dripping..growing changing..hot hot sweat hot, Kenya my love.

There is no way to describe these last two days. I tried, but so much happens in the span of 48 hours that it is impossible to really take you to the schools.  Our partnership in the first 2 schools is going well. Children are being fed, parents are giving over 50%, cooperatives are working and checks were given out at both schools.

 KMET’s programs for the girls from grade 4-8 to help then understand their bodies is led by a merry bouncy woman with an infectious laugh and a confidence that makes me smile. Maureen takes on the tough challenge of teaching sex ed and also helping the girls talk about their menses.  Both Monica and I wretch when we hear what the girls use for menstrual pads.leaves..newspaper…cow dung shoved up their vagina’s and removed at night. The reusable pad will change their lives. Maureen shows them what it looks like and how to use it. The girls are amazed at the pad and all want it. We shall have to get sponsors for the girls. They need the pads, or they miss school and fall behind. How will I get that done? Who will even believe this?

Maureen teaching

Ken and Dan, tall quiet men, patient yet thorough line the children up to take their weights and BMI’s. Then they dewormed all the children. As Monica says it does no good to feed the children if we’re really feeding the worms. They then lecture the parents on nutrition and work with the folks with AIDS to help them understand the importance of the nutri-flour that we have brought.

Asuke takes another group and works with the micro-finance. He is a skinny giant whose smile breaks like the sun after the rain. You fall in love instantly. He is patient and thorough and I see the pride in the people’s face as they hand over their passbooks to be stamped or to receive a small loan. Manyole and Malanga are both doing outstanding work on the microfinance side of things.

We are rained on at the second school. The skies open and we are pelted as we run for cover. the din on the tin roof is spectacular. I do love a good storm. Undaunted,  Maureen got her entire lecture in at a nearby church and the Lioness of Malanga led the micro-finance group off to Asuke. I make an incredibly bad decision and decide to walk from the school to the church after the rain. Wow that was some nasty mud and there was just no getting it off. I thank God for small miracles I didn’t slip in it and settle down to listen.

One of the truly incredible things about African children is their ability to wait and to amuse themselves. After each step, Maureen ducks behind a bench and asks the children to sing. Without missing a beat one girl picks up the call and the others respond singing in a harmonious sweet song that always touches me in the deepest part of my being. So often Americans want to give me toys for the children over here. These loving creatures, who hold hands on the playground (with no equipment) who carry small ones on their backs and never never have I seen a fight break out at the schools. This, dear reader, I suspect you think is an overstatement, but it is not. You shall just have to either take my word or come over here and meet them.

We stumble back to the hotel tired, dirty, happy, optimistic and ready for the third school the next day. Kwihirle is next on the docket.

I must stop here, though. It is time to enjoy this moment. I have been sitting out on the patio of my hotel.  The rains have cleared, the air is sweet, the peepers are peeping, and the rooster crows, and the prayers can be heard from a nearby Mosque.

Swahili reggae is playing over yonder, and it is all good.

Keep the faith y’all.