During our stay in Kenya we have been volunteering as teachers for a school grades 4-8. We showed up at the school asking if they would like any help from some volunteers, to which they answered yes and promptly took us into one of the classes to introduce us to the kids. "This is Jessi and Daniel (they could never comprehend that my name was a girls name) and they are going to be here for three weeks. Now we are going to leave one of them here to teach you right now."
Panic stricken Jessi and I looked at each other hoping that a plan was going to be written on the others face. Finding the same blank stare staring back, we looked to the principle instead who seemed to not notice our deer-in-the-headlights look and decided that Jessi would stay. I was then taken to the younger class to do the same. Neither of us had ever taught a class nor been called on to improvise in front of a large group before. It turns out, to spare you the details, that entertaining, I mean teaching, is about as easy as it is for a rock star to make friends in a crowd of fans. We couldn't have been cooler to these kids. It's possible many of them had never seen a white person before. They had question after question about us and America and the world and why we were so different. They wondered if I had bleached my hair, or used oil and if they could touch it, and why was our skin white. Needless to say filling time with these kids was not a problem, actually kind of the opposite. We had a hard time getting the kids to leave after class was over.
Loving teaching at this school was really a thing of triviality. There are pretty much no other options for emotional reactions when you walk into the room and everything you do is amazing in every eye, which is intently on you, waiting to love your next move. This is especially amazing considering I was there to teach them math. When I asked them if they liked math I got a yes, literally shouted from every child in roaring unison. As my hair settled back down over my shoulders and my jaw returned to it's normal position I confidently started in on my lesson about adding and multiplying fractions. I quickly realized that maybe they haven't seen any of this before. So I decide the best thing to do is keep going, right, and like any good mathematician would want, I give explains for all the why's and how's and give proofs. Fourth graders can handle that right? Well it turns out they could. These kids were smart. However, I had a nagging feeling that they were just excited about their new visitor from another planet, or country rather, and their seeming interest and feigned understanding would not be so present the next time around.
Not so!! The next day I showed up and had decided to do a simpler lesson but when I mentioned some of the concepts from the day before, they were right there with me answering questions which dazed them, so I thought, the day before. They had actually learned something from the day before. So I kept up with the things I was teaching earlier and started doing examples, to which they would follow and shout out the answers or method all together as a class. When I felt like they truly understood how to do it, I asked if they wanted to move on to a different topic. They all shouted "no, more!!" so we did more math, by request. This is a true story, I promise. Africa really is a strange and foreign place, but like many of the other things that are strange and foreign here, I loved this!!
During the weeks there were many hilarious and note worthy occurrences. While I was teaching the older class one day, I leaned over the desk of one of the boys, maybe 14 or 15, to check his answer. My hair, which was down that day, hung beside my head and draped slightly in front of him. Slowly and purposefully his hand reached out, like an involuntary reaction, and grabbed hold of a piece of hair. As soon as his hand touched my hair, it recoiled, as if his brain just initiated and realized what was happening. He looked up at me panicked, all wide eyed and apologetic. Everyone in the class started laughing and the poor kid was mortified. It was like those bug zapper lights, that draw the bugs in and by the time they realize what's happening it's too late. I laughed about this for days when recalled in memory. It was particularly funny because this was one of the kids who was too cool for school and would sit in the back with his buddies and try to do as little as possible in hopes of not being noticed.
In general the kids are totally intrigued with my skin and hair. One day one of the students asked me at the end of class when we had a little extra time if she could touch my hair. So thinking there is no harm in that I said OK. With in 5 seconds the entire class had swarmed me trying to fight their way in to touch my hair. OMG!! Hilarious, but terrifying. I literally ran out of the class room with my hair all a mess. The young kids would often try to find a way to touch my skin or hair when leaving or when I wasn't paying attention. I usually let it slide but on more than one occasion it became a frenzy in which I had difficulty escaping.
(neighbor girls)
Another one of my favorite occurrences is when I was with the younger class and I was in the middle of teaching when one of the girls raises her hand and says, "Excuse me teacher!". I stop my lesson and call on her. "You're smart", she replies bashfully. I am floored and at the same time I want to crack up. These kids don't hold anything in and frankly it's adorable.
Another time I came into Jessi's class at the end of the day, apparently just in time for the explanation of how Jessi and I don't look a like. I am not so sure they were convinced in the end but they did learn about freckles and seemed to like the idea of it. These kids make me laugh with their sweet faces and their endearing personalities. They are not shy and are ready to give love. They are excited about learning and interested in new things and I love it.
When we walk home from school kids literally run out of their houses to say hello to us. They are not scared of us foreigners or suspicious but overjoyed. They are loving to each other as well and we often find groups of young kids walking with their arms around each other or holding hands. The smiles on their faces reach a million miles wide and would cheer up an ogre.
There is one little girl in particular that is exceptionally excited to see us every day. As we walk by her house we can hear her squeals and screams of excitement as she spots us through the window. Within seconds her little wobbly legs come barreling out of the house while she screams as loud as she can, "HowareYOU! HowareYOU! HowareYOU!!!!!...." while chasing us for a while before getting reigned in. The days when she is already outside she comes running towards us with her friends all squealing the same greeting or yelling "Misungu! Misunguuuuu!", which means white person, to alert all the other kids of our coming presence. After we pass they keep yelling in the same spot, jumping up and down like little pumps on a machine until we are out of sight. It is hilarious. I have never seen anything like it and it makes me crack up every time. I see the locals crack smiles as well upon witnessing this extreme enthusiasm on our behalf.
The kids are my favorite thing about Africa, hands down, but this country is not devoid of things I love. With in minutes of stepping foot on the Kenyan Airway's plane to Kenya, I had already decided I was going to love this country. This was reiterated upon actually stepping foot in the country. The flight attendants were friendly, the food was good and honestly the people are beautiful. I think Kenyans must be the gods of beauty on earth. While in the airport we had problems with our bags, which the Indian airport workers refused to help us with but the Kenyan workers helped us without complaint or need for explanation. In fact it took them hours to do what it would have taken the people in Mumbai minutes to do, yet acted like it was their pleasure and kept apologizing for how long it was taking. I concluded that these people are sweet and friendly and willing to help. This has continued to be my experience almost exclusively for the entire duration of our stay.
Another thing I love about this country is their dance, music and fashion. They are bold, they are fun and they are art!! The music has a beat!!! Africans like drums, and I guess so do I. The point of music here is dance. Which brings me to dance. They dance with their souls and their entire body. There is no image or looking cool/sexy in which they feel obliged to adhere. It is all from the heart and if you feel the rhythm then you are cool. And if you don't, its ok, you don't have to dance. It's that simple. They get down and they get funky. Their dancing is art, not image, and everyone is an artist. Now for fashion. I can say almost the same things about fashion as I did for music and dance. Africans have the artist's soul in everything they do. They feel! And I love it!! Their fashion is bold and shapely. They love shape, patterns, and big things. I couldn't say I agree more! The women are proud of their shapes and are not afraid to emphasize them.
Panic stricken Jessi and I looked at each other hoping that a plan was going to be written on the others face. Finding the same blank stare staring back, we looked to the principle instead who seemed to not notice our deer-in-the-headlights look and decided that Jessi would stay. I was then taken to the younger class to do the same. Neither of us had ever taught a class nor been called on to improvise in front of a large group before. It turns out, to spare you the details, that entertaining, I mean teaching, is about as easy as it is for a rock star to make friends in a crowd of fans. We couldn't have been cooler to these kids. It's possible many of them had never seen a white person before. They had question after question about us and America and the world and why we were so different. They wondered if I had bleached my hair, or used oil and if they could touch it, and why was our skin white. Needless to say filling time with these kids was not a problem, actually kind of the opposite. We had a hard time getting the kids to leave after class was over.
Loving teaching at this school was really a thing of triviality. There are pretty much no other options for emotional reactions when you walk into the room and everything you do is amazing in every eye, which is intently on you, waiting to love your next move. This is especially amazing considering I was there to teach them math. When I asked them if they liked math I got a yes, literally shouted from every child in roaring unison. As my hair settled back down over my shoulders and my jaw returned to it's normal position I confidently started in on my lesson about adding and multiplying fractions. I quickly realized that maybe they haven't seen any of this before. So I decide the best thing to do is keep going, right, and like any good mathematician would want, I give explains for all the why's and how's and give proofs. Fourth graders can handle that right? Well it turns out they could. These kids were smart. However, I had a nagging feeling that they were just excited about their new visitor from another planet, or country rather, and their seeming interest and feigned understanding would not be so present the next time around.
Not so!! The next day I showed up and had decided to do a simpler lesson but when I mentioned some of the concepts from the day before, they were right there with me answering questions which dazed them, so I thought, the day before. They had actually learned something from the day before. So I kept up with the things I was teaching earlier and started doing examples, to which they would follow and shout out the answers or method all together as a class. When I felt like they truly understood how to do it, I asked if they wanted to move on to a different topic. They all shouted "no, more!!" so we did more math, by request. This is a true story, I promise. Africa really is a strange and foreign place, but like many of the other things that are strange and foreign here, I loved this!!
During the weeks there were many hilarious and note worthy occurrences. While I was teaching the older class one day, I leaned over the desk of one of the boys, maybe 14 or 15, to check his answer. My hair, which was down that day, hung beside my head and draped slightly in front of him. Slowly and purposefully his hand reached out, like an involuntary reaction, and grabbed hold of a piece of hair. As soon as his hand touched my hair, it recoiled, as if his brain just initiated and realized what was happening. He looked up at me panicked, all wide eyed and apologetic. Everyone in the class started laughing and the poor kid was mortified. It was like those bug zapper lights, that draw the bugs in and by the time they realize what's happening it's too late. I laughed about this for days when recalled in memory. It was particularly funny because this was one of the kids who was too cool for school and would sit in the back with his buddies and try to do as little as possible in hopes of not being noticed.
In general the kids are totally intrigued with my skin and hair. One day one of the students asked me at the end of class when we had a little extra time if she could touch my hair. So thinking there is no harm in that I said OK. With in 5 seconds the entire class had swarmed me trying to fight their way in to touch my hair. OMG!! Hilarious, but terrifying. I literally ran out of the class room with my hair all a mess. The young kids would often try to find a way to touch my skin or hair when leaving or when I wasn't paying attention. I usually let it slide but on more than one occasion it became a frenzy in which I had difficulty escaping.
(neighbor girls)
Another one of my favorite occurrences is when I was with the younger class and I was in the middle of teaching when one of the girls raises her hand and says, "Excuse me teacher!". I stop my lesson and call on her. "You're smart", she replies bashfully. I am floored and at the same time I want to crack up. These kids don't hold anything in and frankly it's adorable.
Another time I came into Jessi's class at the end of the day, apparently just in time for the explanation of how Jessi and I don't look a like. I am not so sure they were convinced in the end but they did learn about freckles and seemed to like the idea of it. These kids make me laugh with their sweet faces and their endearing personalities. They are not shy and are ready to give love. They are excited about learning and interested in new things and I love it.
When we walk home from school kids literally run out of their houses to say hello to us. They are not scared of us foreigners or suspicious but overjoyed. They are loving to each other as well and we often find groups of young kids walking with their arms around each other or holding hands. The smiles on their faces reach a million miles wide and would cheer up an ogre.
There is one little girl in particular that is exceptionally excited to see us every day. As we walk by her house we can hear her squeals and screams of excitement as she spots us through the window. Within seconds her little wobbly legs come barreling out of the house while she screams as loud as she can, "HowareYOU! HowareYOU! HowareYOU!!!!!...." while chasing us for a while before getting reigned in. The days when she is already outside she comes running towards us with her friends all squealing the same greeting or yelling "Misungu! Misunguuuuu!", which means white person, to alert all the other kids of our coming presence. After we pass they keep yelling in the same spot, jumping up and down like little pumps on a machine until we are out of sight. It is hilarious. I have never seen anything like it and it makes me crack up every time. I see the locals crack smiles as well upon witnessing this extreme enthusiasm on our behalf.
The kids are my favorite thing about Africa, hands down, but this country is not devoid of things I love. With in minutes of stepping foot on the Kenyan Airway's plane to Kenya, I had already decided I was going to love this country. This was reiterated upon actually stepping foot in the country. The flight attendants were friendly, the food was good and honestly the people are beautiful. I think Kenyans must be the gods of beauty on earth. While in the airport we had problems with our bags, which the Indian airport workers refused to help us with but the Kenyan workers helped us without complaint or need for explanation. In fact it took them hours to do what it would have taken the people in Mumbai minutes to do, yet acted like it was their pleasure and kept apologizing for how long it was taking. I concluded that these people are sweet and friendly and willing to help. This has continued to be my experience almost exclusively for the entire duration of our stay.
Another thing I love about this country is their dance, music and fashion. They are bold, they are fun and they are art!! The music has a beat!!! Africans like drums, and I guess so do I. The point of music here is dance. Which brings me to dance. They dance with their souls and their entire body. There is no image or looking cool/sexy in which they feel obliged to adhere. It is all from the heart and if you feel the rhythm then you are cool. And if you don't, its ok, you don't have to dance. It's that simple. They get down and they get funky. Their dancing is art, not image, and everyone is an artist. Now for fashion. I can say almost the same things about fashion as I did for music and dance. Africans have the artist's soul in everything they do. They feel! And I love it!! Their fashion is bold and shapely. They love shape, patterns, and big things. I couldn't say I agree more! The women are proud of their shapes and are not afraid to emphasize them.
Otherwise I love it here because it is full of many of my favorite things. There are donkeys all over the place and goats walk among the people in the streets and are almost as ubiquitous (two of my favorite animals). My favorite plant, bougainvillea, grows everywhere and in every color, including ones I didn't know existed. My favorite fruit, papaya, grows wild and is readily available. The food is phenomenal and it's impossible to go hungry when fed by Kenyans, since the rule is "Eat to finish", and that does not refer to just what is on your plate. They use spices plentifully and creatively and not hot ones, so it is always mild yet full if flavor. The country side is very much like the plains of Colorado and the weather so far has been incredibly mild and warm, despite that it is directly on the equator.
So to sum up Kenya, it's great!
So to sum up Kenya, it's great!
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