Taking Tea, Taking Time

I am on my third week of teaching English to 4th, 5th, and 6th graders, or really whatever they need me to teach, at whatever time. I'm realizing it's the American way to have systems and schedules that are rather rigid, and that it's not that way everywhere...

Within these systems in the U.S., I do not always perform the best. People who know me well generally tell me to arrive somewhere an hour before they actually want me to be there. My mother instituted the "double everything" rule with me, where I should take whatever amount of time I think something is going to take and then double it so that I actually make it on time. Brenda, my mission co-worker friend, thinks that the fact that I'm most attracted to elephants during game drives is also indicative of this personality trait- I like to go at my own pace. But amidst Kenyans that are more like me, I have never felt more American when it comes to keeping time.

My first day has set the general trend for how it works here. I was told I would start teaching three classes on Monday, each period having 35 minutes. I had a blast planning my lessons, gazing excitedly over text books and curriculums. I found that my creative process was heartily engaged during this exercise, and it was fun. First thing I learned on Monday morning was that I would be teaching double lessons- 70 min. Ok, no problem, I'll just teach them two days worth. Well, 70 minutes slowly turned to two hours and I've made it through my week's worth of lessons and the kids look like their heads are going to explode. Not only was it a ton of material to digest, but they have been having a rough time deciphering my accent on top of it. Lesson 1: take it slow.

Because my first class went so long I was "late" for my second class which only went for 20 minutes. Second lesson: plan for everything and- nothing. I eventually made it over to 6th grade for another unexpected double lesson. I finished explaining my word of the day vocabulary project, which I had proposed in each class, when a brave hand hesitantly rose in the air to ask simply, "what is a definition?" Great question. Deep too. Third lesson of the day: clarify each step- define, define, define.

At this point in the day I'm horribly confused about where I'm supposed to be at what time, and for how long. I was determined to get an answer, so I collected some of the class teachers so that we could figure out this whole schedule thing. My flood of questions seemed to confuse them and I was met with another question, "Have you taken tea?" "Well, no, but I'm trying to figure out when I'm supposed to teach so I know how to plan..." "Yes, yes, but first you must take tea," and with that I was shuffled over to the office where a cup had been prepared just for me. I was loosely promised a time table at the end of the day.

I still have yet to see this time table, but I have been taught to take tea time seriously. So what if I'm late to class if I've had a good conversation along the way? It's an accepted practice here so no one is ever mad or surprised when you are late, or if anything runs over time. In fact, people are more surprised when things actually do start on time (I was on time for church the other day and was one of 5 people there- the 400 other members came rolling in at half past or later). And it's ok, even good for a person to wake up every day not knowing what to expect. Control is illusory anyway, right?

Don't get me wrong, my American sense of timing (that I didn't know I had) still gets ruffled when I plan a really great lesson only to find that today is a gov exam day, or that the class 3 teacher quit unexpectedly, so that I would be with 3rd graders all day, but...I'm learning. I'm learning how to control less and stay in the moment more. I'm also learning a lot of improvisation and to go with the flow. I'm reorganizing my priorities and learning again and again that NOW and PEOPLE matter the most, and I'm happy my Kenyan community is holding me accountable to these values.

Off to bed now for who knows what tomorrow. Stay tuned for my adventures in farming and also a review of cultural day.

Pictured: Zakary, our school driver, taking a tea break on the farm. That's Mt. Kenya in the background.

Sweet, Sweetwaters

Visiting writer, church mouse here to report on our fabulous safari weekend spent at Sweetwaters Game Park. Deanna and Brenda thought they were alone in the vehicle with Boneface, the driver, but little did they know that I was a stowaway in one of their suitcases…The Mrs. outfitted me in safari boots, vest, and hat so I looked like a typical game drive participant.

All the animals came out to greet us as soon as we entered the park. It was as if they had been signaled ahead of time to put on a good show. Three of the “big five” appeared right away, crossing the road in front of us. Deanna scrambled for her camera as the safari vehicle whizzed away and Brenda laughed as she watched Deanna take in her first “I’m actually in Kenya” moments, promising better photo opportunities in the near future. I, on the other hand, froze in my seat at the size of the animals and the close proximity to our vehicle.

Next, was the short drive to our tent. Deanna and I were mentally prepared for roughing it, and had visions of re-enacting some “(wo)/man vs. wild” sketches. We knew we weren’t going to be eating bugs or drowning in rain water when we were met at Sweetwaters with umbrella escorts. They shuttled our bags to tent number one. Brenda had insisted that we should be closer to the water hole, and thus closer to the scary animals promising that there was a safe distance and an electric wire protecting us. I’m not sure how she thought a tiny electric wire and a 3 ft ditch was going to stop any animal from crossing, but I suppose she lived to tell the tale. Then, I got lost in the tent. It was at this time that the girls realized I was with them and I was quickly delegated to the verandah outside the tent- well, what they called a tent, and what I would call a Hilton room with cloth around it instead of walls.

After I gobbled up the crumbs from Deanna and Brenda’s five course breakfast, we went for our first game drive. Just before that, we arose to coffee on the verandah watching the sun come up over Mt. Kenya. Brenda was in search of her “twiga”- the giraffes, and Deanna couldn’t get enough “tembo”- elephants. I found the warthogs most curious. Our first stop was to Jane Goodall’s Chimpanzee Sanctuary. They say that humans are the closest to the chimpanzee and, wow, could I see the similarities. When Deanna and Poco took their little walk together, I thought they would have held hands had it not been the electronic force field protecting them both. For the most part, the chimps looked like bored teenagers, but I thought I heard the guard say they have 200 acres to play around in. After lunch, we went rhino petting. I stayed in the vehicle with Boneface, but peeped my head out enough to see that Deanna did indeed touch a rhino, even if it was at a far arm’s length. Brenda was getting a little anxious about her twiga at this point, but “ask and ye shall receive,” I heard that somewhere, and there popped out of the acacia a herd of giraffes. Brenda was really excited and a little more peaceful for the rest of the trip having gotten her fill. We spent the rest of the day watching the activity surrounding the water hole: more zebras, antelope, elephants, buffalo, impala, warthogs, and exotic birds.

We enjoyed our own sort of church waking up the next morning to the sound of birds. We were sad to be nearing the end of our two day excursion. They warded off their melancholy when a word from the desk arrived that lions and cheetahs had been spotted that morning. They didn’t shower or anything and loaded up the van for one last hoorah. Since cats and mice don’t really make very good bedfellows, I wasn’t at all excited about this prospect. Boneface took us on some back roads hoping we’d find my enemies in their solitary mood and therefore in a solitary spot. Then, there, under a bush, we saw some spots and some movement, and identified the cheetahs. I have no doubts that this is one cat that could definitely out run me. Luckily, they were distracted by Thompson gazelles. I breathed a sigh of relief when the ladies grew tired and hungry from the search, for I was not looking forward to seeing the biggest baddest cat of them all. Boneface promised Deanna, “next time” for sighting lions.

We sorrowfully left Sweetwaters, made a quick pit stop at the wood carvers’, and arrived safely home in Meru. I will promise to stowaway with the girls whenever possible and report back. Someone has to keep an eye on them.

Until next time,
~Church mouse

expecting rain

Spotty internet connection in Meru so far. And by spotty, I mean it’s been down for over a week. A practice in patience.

They say the long rains will start soon. Every day there is a long ritual hopeful gaze up in the sky, wondering if today will be the start. Instead, the wind kicks up the dust and the cows chew up the final few patches of green. This year, they will be thankful for El Nino, as it attempts to repair some of the damage that four years of drought has done. As my host mom says, “When Kenya has rain we are happy, when we don’t, we suffer.” An insightful comment on how they maintain a very delicate threshold here dependent on the unpredictability of the weather.

I am also in holding here. I arrived in Meru last week and have been in classes observing the ins and outs of the Kenyan style of teaching. Finally received my assignment yesterday to teach 4^th, 5^th, and 6^th graders English and maybe some Christian Ed. Music is also a must, as they sing almost incessantly here, in every class and are anxious to learn some new songs. They are thrilled that I play an instrument and so by outing myself, I may have incidentally been contracted to teach every student piano lessons. Yikes, we’ll see how that develops...

I was surprised myself at how excited I became at lesson planning. There is so much I can do with these kids because they are so bright, dedicated, eager, fun, and hard-working. The second graders I observed were practically leaping out of their seats to answer grammar questions. You’d have to pay most kids in the U.S.

A little bit about the school. It’s a primary school which ranges from preschool to 8^th grade and is partly a boarding school (all the rage in Kenya) and partly a day school. Students start as early as 6 am and “end” their day around 5 pm (boarders go until 9 pm). It’s a private school so leaves some room for some additional religious education. It also hosts a fair number of orphaned children who are on scholarship. Children are heavily structured, but incredibly happy. I knew I had arrived in good hands when the children welcomed me out of my van with a song and dance of “Jambo Bwana.”