Teacher’s Strike Day 8

With the teachers still on strike, I have a lot of time on my hands to explain the finer details of my new life. I ride the matatus whenever I go into town. I am always amazed at the number of people crammed into them. Each matatu’s capacity is labeled alongside the sliding door, but I’ve never seen one abide by it. Once I was in a 14 person matatu with 23 other people! Most of the time people are hanging out the door. I am worried about being pressed up against a Kenyan momma holding a chicken. Its bound to happen.

Each day I realize that I need to buy more things for my house. Yesterday I bought several different spices and herbs for cooking and more cooking utensils. My house is beginning to take shape. I had a local carpenter build me a couch which is surprisingly comfortable. I was so satisfied with his work that I am now having a coffee table made. At first I was a little lenient about spending money, but these wonderful people need it more than I do, and I like to think that its not really my money, but the American taxpayer’s money and I should spend it all, plus it doesn’t really amount to much when converted into dollars.

Another interesting aspect of my life is my neighbor’s son. When I first arrived, I wasn’t so sure about this kid. I could tell something was different about him. For one, he was running around the yard naked. I think he was just as curious about me as I was about him. It did not take long for me to discover that he is mentally challenged. I was nervous around him because I just did not know how to communicate or interact with him. But I’ve since grown fond of him. He always has a grin on his face. Another time, I was just sitting in my doorway when he ran at me with a rock in his hand. My first thought was that he was gonna try and throw it at me. But much to my surprise he came to a screeching halt, smiled and handed me the rock as a gift. He then proceeded to caress my arm hair. Side note: all Kenyans, both male and female, are infatuated with my arm hair.

His family is very generous and welcoming and I cannot say enough about them. His dad is my teaching counterpart and has helped me put together lessons plans, while is mom works at the local market and gives me advice on where to buy all the things I need. They also make me dinner every Sunday night.

One day I forgot to lock my door. I was in the middle of a nice bucket bath when all of the sudden I heard his catch phrase: Ahh! Eeeeee!! Immediately I threw on a towel and politely escorted his bare ass out of my house. Ahh! Eeeee!! seems to be the only thing he knows how to say, and boy does he yell it often. Several times a day he’ll press his face against my window and…

Ahh! Eeeee!!

Maybe its in the local vernacular (Kimeru) that he is trying to talk to me. Maybe it is the first phrase that kids learn here. Maybe it is just his own unique way of communicating. I’m not quite sure what it means. Maybe he is saying hello, good bye, or all of the above. But I got time to figure it out. I can hear him from anywhere in the school compound. Last week, I was sprawled out on my couch when he thrust his face against my window, peering in, wondering what was happening in here. Then he turned around and was “oohing and ahhing” just like curious George. I was telling myself “wait for it, wait for it…”

Ah!! Eeeee!!!

This last weekend when I had some of my fellow volunteers over, he greeted them by removing his pants and handing them to one of the girls (if only it were that easy.)