crazy two-year-old talk
by the way, things are better. much better, in fact.
i’m occasionally surprised to realize i feel mostly happy and at home here.
i eat a fresh mango every morning, and even run at 5,450 feet some mornings.
my weekdays are still mostly filled with learning swahili, and making up stories about a lost frog, and reading too much. my weekends are still filled with good friends and good music, city exploration and the occasional giraffe kiss (“this one, she is a passionate french kisser,” we were told.)
also, God has been doing everything good the last week. (not that he’s ever not doing good things, but sometimes it’s more obvious from this perspective than other times.)
so, good things God has done:
1. there has been an approval written for the street kids ministry. i feel pretty sure the spirit had some part of it, and all of the team unified in the writing.
2. the pastor of the church we are working with approved the document. this gives us the freedom to begin work with the boys.
3. the catholic organization, koinonia, has agreed for me to volunteer with them, learning about their ministry and (hopefully) paving the way for a potential partnership. these guys have been doing street kids ministry in nairobi for 10 years, and they know things.
4. my future housing situation is looking positive. i’m hoping eventually to move in town, and be within walking distance of the boys. i want to have as much opportunity as possible for community with them, and for hospitality and simplicity.
5. i’ve gotten to spend time with the boys!
i’ve been a few times to riverside, and found the boys. they are still calling me eunice, or mzungu, and have decided maybe i’m not from china after all, but from india. who knew?
today i found james, who i’ve met with a few times, and we went for chai. after awhile, he brought about 9 more friends, and we sat in the hoteli (tin-shack restaurant). one of the boys who could read took my swahili notebook and quizzed me until we had the attention of the whole restaurant, and everyone was helping me along, shouting out the swahili when i faltered, and cheering enthusiastically when i knew the word for “man” or “big, deer-like creature.” i decided we should all take some lunch. i tried to explain to them that i was happy to buy them all some lunch, but they needed to all order the ugali mix, and not the meat, because it turns out i’m not exactly rich.
my guess is, i sounded something akin to a two-year-old. or a crazy person.
“you, no meat! too many you!
don’t…no…meat buy here.
me no money for you has meat.
so many. you and you and you.
please! no meat you buy today!
vegetables, yes. meat, no.
money lots to..with..for meat.
no money i has!”
almost needless to say, none of them paid any attention to me. i began to notice meat in front of them, along with lots of grabbing and yelling. and i paid quickly, and explained to the owner that from now on, i myself will do the ordering (in my two-year-old crazy talk). and these boys will maybe get chai only until we can establish some semblance of mutual respect. or communication. or something.
mostly, i’m so thankful for these days, and these struggles. and these boys.