It has been one week since I landed in Nairobi. I hit the ground running, as I got a chance to visit with most of the projects supported in one fashion or another by Transformed International (TI). There are still a lot of adjustments to make to my new home here in Kitale. Not the least of which is recognizing that Kitale is now my home. I am feeling somewhat disjointed, but am slowly fitting into the culture here. The language barrier is huge. All I can do is sit and listen to the Swahili being spoken around me, and ask for translation if I think that I should know what is being said.
On Saturday, we went to visit Hope Bright Future (HBF), which is the children’s home that TI sponsors. As soon as we rode in on the back of the boda bodas (bicycle taxi’s), the children came running to meet us. Two boys immediately latched on to me, and proceeded to treat me as their own personal mzungu (white person) jungle gym. The first child to greet me and tell me his name was Molongo. I picked him up and he proceeded to ask the kids if they knew who I was. When they told him “No” he proudly told them that he did know me, and that my name was Sean.
The second boy, John, clung to me for the entire day, and only let go when it was time to take lunch, and when it was time to go. The rest of the day was spent with him sitting on my lap, walking as he held my hand, jumping up and hooking his legs around mine so that he could hang upside down while I walked (a very difficult task to accomplish I might add). The older girls in the home treated us to a couple of dramas, some poems, and a few songs. They were very good. One of the dramas was called “The Stupid Maid.” It was about a girl who was hired as a maid, but knew nothing of what is meant to be a maid, or how to do anything. She was shown around the house and how things worked, and what their purpose was. She was told that the fridge was for making warm things cold. When the lady who hired her left for the day, the stupid maid found that the baby was warm and remembered, “Madam said that if something is warm, it is to go into the fridge.” The maid promptly put the baby in the fridge. When the mother came home, she had to call the police to come and arrest her stupid maid, because the baby did not survive the stay in the fridge. It was a rather morbid, but funny story none-the-less.
Today (Wednesday), Daniel and I went to the street girls’ home to make a delivery, and to see how they are doing. We sat in on their sewing class for an hour, and watched as they each took turns naming the parts of the sewing machine and the tools that go with sewing, as well as watching them thread the machines. Daniel said that they are more attentive to the seamstress than they are to their teacher for their schooling. It was good to see them doing so well. It is not an easy life that they have left behind, and the rules for them are pretty strict. One of the original street girls, who left the project just 20 days in, begged Daniel, Meredith and Anne to take her back. She said that she realized that she truly was alone on the streets and that she made a big mistake in leaving. She returned to the NEEMA (pronounced nay-ma) home yesterday to even stricter rules than that of her house mates, and knows that this is her final chance to make a better life for herself. If she leaves now, or in the future, she will not be allowed back ever.
