I was just a little excited in case you couldn't tell. So last night she stayed with my African family and we went to church with my mom here, Nkita. And got a flat tire on the way, in typical African tradition we gathered a large, gawking crowd as five men attempted to put our spare on. Hilarious.
Church was not as long as we had anticipated but we of course were the only wazungus (white people) in the entire building and thus stood out a bit. The pastor then asked any new visitors to stand and Kels and I were the only ones standing. The choir then proceeded to sing (quite a long song) to us as we stood. We walked home, chomping on some sugar cane. A truly African day!
Tomorrow the four of us leave for Kibo for safari! Hopefully we see lots of crazy cool animals and get to relax together.
Going through this whole process (being in a foreign land alone and all that) I really feel I have grown up so much. I have a clearer vision for things I want and don't want in my life. Although I love being somewhere else it has been immensely hard to be far from my friends and family. To be honest, I don't know if I could do this for a living. This thought haunts me because this is what I always thought my life would look like. It is one of those things that will take time to work out. I have learned since I've been here that I lack patience and I tend to jump into decisions. Pole! Pole! as they say here, which means Slow down! I think my time here has been one of healing. I have already gained some much wisdom, restoration for my soul, and mending for my heart.
Most importantly this last year I have learned who I am. So this is a poem I wrote, basking in the warm Kenyan sun, thinking about what my life has looked like in the last few months but I think it also speaks to the last year.
I have this wound on my finger
He is open and vulnerable
In the same way I am now
You can see his depth and sensitivity
In the same way you can see mine now
When I reach out to grasp something
He stutters back shocked by the pain it causes
In the same way I do now
Part of the pain is the aloneness in his suffering
I cradle his frailness in the evening light
Praying the sun expedites the healing process
The end is coming, the transformation will be beautiful
In the slowness, he holds on hoping with this new knowledge
In the same way I know now
-a
No comments:
Post a Comment