Each day I wake up under my mosquito net canopy, and roll out of bed in my own room (say what?!). I've gotten so used to our modest conditions, in roommate or dorm living situations, and I've come to like living simply. Even so, it was nice to be able to spread out and it felt more like a home, and not so temporary. The house is quiet as we each tune in to our own morning devotions. The wonderful thing about living out of a backpack in Africa is I have just a few skirts to choose from and all I have to do is select a T-shirt that matches. Flip flops are a no brainer and voila! I'm ready for the day.
Here at ELI all our meals are prepared by the gracious cooks here, Joel and Angelina, so it's always a surprise. But after only a few days it's not hard to guess. It's likely that breakfast will consist of toast and plum or pineapple "Zesta" jam, maybe mandazi (like a fluffy fried pancake) or an egg (usually hard boiled) if we're lucky.
For lunch and "supper" it's pretty much a guarantee I will see rice on my plate and some kind of broth or beans, with the occasional chapati (like a thick skillet-fried tortilla), which is a family favorite ever since India. Every once in a while we are met with a treat of with scrambled eggs for breakfast, or a pizza-like casserole for supper. I do like his rice dishes, but you know, variety is the spice of life. Oh, and the Kenyans would be appalled if I forgot about the Chai. Sweetened, piping hot Chai tea is available at every meal.
In the late mornings we all spread out and get things done: Journaling is always a struggle to keep up on since there is so much to say and so much to do. Often, we plan evening devotions for the kids, or get some school work out of the way. It's a pretty perfect set up to get things checked off the list while the kids are all at school. 
Once each day, we often visit a different grade classroom at school, bringing in our own Tonge flair with critical thinking games, stories from our adventures, or a game from Dad’s box of tricks.
Samro is the school that is situated right beside the ELI children's home and training center and was founded by Samuel and Roda (thus the name). Because it is so close, the kids from the children's home only have a short 2 minute walk early each morning. Since we are living right next to a school and they have welcomed us in, we have learned a whole lot about the Kenyan school system. As we've mentioned in other blogs, school fees are a major burden, especially for rural families like those in this surrounding community. There is no such thing as "free" education through the tax system like we have in the US. The most obvious difference in their school system and ours is their incredibly loooong school days. The Boarding students go into class first thing in the morning for "preps" (study time), by 5am. They all get breakfast--normally a thick porridge or a slice of white bread--at 6:30, and class officially begins at 7. Besides an hour lunch break, when the kids from ELI return back home to eat, and we get to see them, they are in class all day long. The preschool and kindergarten classes get out at 3pm, grades 1 to 3 at 4pm, and grades 4 to 8 at 5 pm.
As if that isn't enough, grades 6-8 go back for more preps from 7-9pm, and then head straight to bed. After learning more, I understood the reasoning behind keeping students longer. I get out of school by 3pm, and go home and power through several hours of homework, but I am not sent to take the cows to graze, or walk miles (kms) to fetch water, or cook all evening to feed the household like these kids often might. If they get sent with work, the demands of their rural lifestyle would pry them away from their studies and then they might not perform so well on their exams. And performing well on exams is the thing that concerns and consumes kids here more than anything else, because of how the Kenyan school system is set up. In grade 8 every student in the country takes a national exam that determines their future. If a student does exceedingly well, a top secondary school may accept them. There is a chance that they may not qualify for any secondary school, and if that happens, instead of entering 9th grade, they would have to learn a trade, such as tailoring, or start a small business or find other ways to make a living. So you can imagine why they stay at school late at night studying away--there is such immense pressure. Their whole future depends on one test score. One single number.
For our first visit to the Preschool classes, we prepared a skit based on the children's story of the Little Engine that Could and the 4 of us performed it, each of us playing the part of a different engine, and mom narrating. They sat in their little uniforms side by side in their wooden bench desks, looking up at us with wide eyes and joining in for the phrases we taught them ("I think I can!"). I'm not sure how much they really understood since they speak only their local language at home, and first get introduced to English in Preschool, but their teachers sure got into it. :)
One early afternoon we got invited to the Grade 7 and 8 classes. Their classes respectfully greeted us by standing up and welcoming us in unison. We shared about our experiences at the children's homes and in the villages in India and Thailand, bringing stories and photos, which they absolutely loved. It was fun to make the distant and unique cultures come alive for them. Thankfully we got past some of the shyness and they were able to ask us some of their curious questions. It was an unbelievably surreal experience to stand in front of a black board before a class of African students in old fashioned looking wooden bench desks in their checkered uniforms teaching them. After the bell rang and our time was up they invited us to stay and sit in on their Kiswahili class up next. They were so eager and we wanted to learn the language, so why not? Once again I had that "Is this really happening?" feeling. There we were--me, mom and dad (Trevor was sick in our cottage), squeezed into the little wooden desk seats next to our Kenyan classmates, attending "just another day of Swahili class."
One of the girls, Sarah, who became one of my good friends, invited me to sit next to her. So I squeezed in on the bench next to her and became a student rather than a teacher. It was so intriguing to sit in class as a student, not as a "guest speaker." I wondered if we would see or experience things firsthand that we had heard about--like the practice of caning, which is still common in Kenyan schools. The kids I've come to know have told me how in Kenya, teachers will use a cane (kind of like a stiff hose) to reprimand a student if they did not do their work, or if they give a wrong answer in class or get poor exam results. I wonder if that's why kids are reluctant to reply to our discussion questions when we speak to a class, even though we reassure them that there are "no wrong answers." Wow--it's a really different feel in the classrooms here than in the US. Here, students mostly listen and take notes for the whole period. Students in America are very open in expressing their thoughts and opinions (and complaints). In American classrooms, young people are encouraged to express their point of view, and consider different ways of solving a problem, or various perspectives on an issue. On the one hand, it develops critical thinking, but on the other hand, I can see how an outsider viewing an American classroom could think students are disrespectful or rude.
So there I sat with Sarah, who whispered translations and took notes on the whole lesson for me in English and Kiswahili as the teacher taught and scratched things up on the black board. Class let out and soon I was surrounded by students, apparently they now felt I was approachable. They asked me more questions and made jokes and we all broke out into laughter.
I walked back with some of the girls through the ELI gates, chatting as we kicked up dust. What fun! I finally felt like I was forming relationships and fitting in with our new community.
At 4pm, after some journaling or World History work back at our cottage, I head over to the children's homes to catch the first round of kids after school. Without a doubt I can find a flock of excitable "littles," running around in the playing field. On one of our first few days, I went searching for some kids to spend time with. I was met with shaved-headed little ones running at full speed towards me, and I was taken hold of by tiny dark hands. 5 boys were high above my head in a tree calling, "Shayla, Shayla, Shayla!"
I smiled up at them before my attention was brought to a flock of the smallest boys: Ebe, Caleb, Joseph, Chariot, Vali, Seth and more, climbing all over a long, rusted metal tube, jumping and clamoring to get my attention. Little precious faces laughed and cried out my name. The scene was one of absolute chaos, it was actually ridiculous how crazy it all was. I planted myself on a concrete step and 3 or 4 kids gathered around me to braid (rather knot) and touch my hair. They are fascinated with it since none of them have any hair, let alone blonde hair.
(Here is Mom instead)The little boys ran around waving leafy branches in my face and two of them alternated occupying my lap. I rested my chin on their fuzzy bald heads, holding these sweet and spirited little beings.
I was totally in my element. I have a passion for 3 and 4 year olds. At home I help in the toddler room at church, and for me, babysitting is way more of a treat than a job. Here I can spend time with these fun little kids for hours everyday. My heart was fuller than you can imagine.
When they fought to hold my hand, and I tried (and failed) to keep the peace, I could feel without words that they loved being around me as much as I did with them. I loved those afternoon visits. Sometimes we would run around and chase one another, but most days, when the excited tugging on my arms got to be too much, I plopped down in the hay, and we'd sit in a pile of cuteness.
With one or two in my lap and 4 others around me, I'd tickle their round bellies and make faces at them that would send them giggling for minutes. Those times with my little loves where some of my favorite.
By 5pm I parade over with some littles in hand to greet the older kids coming home from school.
I would ask them about their day and we'd talk and joke a bit before they'd have to go do some chores. As the sun sets, the older boys play volleyball with their mini net along with Trevor, many other kids gather by the spickets to do their wash, and I run around with Winny and several littles, kicking a deflated soccer ball in the red dirt.
When the bell rings, everyone makes it back to their respective side: the East or West side huts to gather for devotion time. Our family rotates each night to join in with each house. The oldest kids--"class 8's"--usually lead worship, and we rejoice with clapping hands, while the littles dance and jump. We have come to love the songs here, they are so fun and joyful. Then comes the best part: kids from 3 years all the way to 13 stand up and voluntarily recite bible verses with such pride. It amazes me that even the tiniest of them bravely and even eagerly share their favorite scripture. It most definitely inspires me to do so. Most nights our family performs a skit of a bible story to help it come alive for them. They loved it and it brought such joy for us to bring so much delight to them, (which is what kept us going when we were exhausted in our afternoon brainstorm sessions. When i return to my seat on the bench after a skit, a little one climbs back in my lap and settles in.
I head over to the kitchen to help lug over large warm pots of ugali or cooked cabbage or kale (which they call "sukumawiki", in Swahili meaning, "pushing the week") and help serve up supper in one of the house commons.
We hang around, playing and laughing in the golden evening, postponing our own dinner to be with them.
The upper class kids eat quickly and then gather up to go back to school for evening preps. Later in our stay I got in the habit of escorting them, giggling and making jokes.
Even though they are in 7th and 8th grade, many of them are my age since they may not have begun school until they came to ELI. Even still I feel like a big sister to them, and I loved spending time with my gaggle of youth. :)
At 9pm on their way home in the dark, Trevor and I would be waiting to intercept them, and see them one last time before the day was over. The first time it happened, maybe a week in, I was in our house, already wearing pajamas, and I heard a commotion outside. I poked my head out, and I could see 12 of them over the fence waving me over. I ran to slip on a skirt, and hurried past the round huts to where they were gathered. I realized then, that they had just finished school! I was surrounded by hugs from the girls, whom I could only identify by their laughs because of the dark shadows. The topic on their minds was Valentine's day, since it was tomorrow, and they spoke in that nervous giggly manner that 12-14 year olds do whenever they bring up love or relationships. I told them about some of the traditions back home on Valentines day like the Singing Madrigals choir at my high school. "Romantic!" Sarah called out which led to another round of bubbling laughter. I couldn't see their faces in the dark night, but I could feel their energy. It was so precious.
This is the real them...the giggling teens they get to be when they don't have to be the responsible older siblings or diligent students. I love being around the real them, it makes my heart sing.
"Lala Salama! (Goodnight!)" we called after many rounds of hugs, and we turned to our respective houses. That night ideas began brewing of how to spend time with them and "meet them right where they are,” relationally and spiritually, as adolescents.
Some evenings we invited friends over to share some "American culture" by baking sweet treats in our kitchen (I mean, we have to use our kitchen for something!). We bonded over mashing bananas and licking the brownie batter from the bowl.
Boy, this life is too beautiful to describe. How did I get so lucky? I have fallen in love with these people yet again. Daily life is always unexpected but I'm sure to find myself caught in a sweet or meaningful moment, and as each day passes we grow more comfortable and form deeper relationships with one another. Because the thing is, we get to do life together. On the first day, in the first few minutes they told us "Welcome Home." And now that is becoming a reality.
This is Home.
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