It’s getting
hotter and my days are getting longer and less and less busy. Things have
almost slowed down to a stop and all there is to do is play with the kids every
opportunity I get and sometimes help in the kitchen. Before I even came to
Kenya, my goal was primarily to have a chance to spend TIME with Jesus and grow
closer to him. Little did I know that two months into my journey my entire
schedule would consist of spending time with Jesus and drinking tea.
I’m sitting
here trying to think of a riveting tale to tell you of my adventures, but my
life has been lacking of all adventure recently. I did go to the beach with
several of the Americans who stopped in for a few days, so I suppose I’ll tell
you about that.
First of
all, I’d like to let you know how nice it was to see an American in real life.
This is the longest time I’ve been away from my home, my family, and any kind
of familiarity. When I found Nutella and Pringles in the supermarket I nearly
cried with joy at the familiar sight. So to see an American up close was truly
a gift from God. My usually boisterous self was quiet, basically silent, while
they were here. I’ve realized that I
haven’t had the opportunity to joke around or have a true conversation in two
months because the people here don’t understand me very well and I sure don’t
understand them well enough to keep up with long conversations. So when I had
the opportunity to talk in my American English as fast as I wanted to, I didn’t
even know what to say. Anyway, one night we went to the beach.
As soon as we
stepped onto the beautiful, almost silky, sand, we were bombarded by people
trying to sell things. I had plastic bracelets shoved at me along with
beautiful scarves and carvings. The thing about Kenya is that even a “no” is a
“yes, keep talking” and no matter how many times I rejected their offers, they
still trailed behind me giving me ridiculously bad deals for a bracelet that I
didn’t want. At first, I didn’t mind it. When they asked me where I was from, I
answered, excited to meet the natives. Then I realized that their seemingly
friendly introductions were actually traps. They would ask me where I was from,
talk for a little about Obama, then give me yet another deal on whatever they
were trying to sell. I couldn’t get away from it, and soon I learned to haggle.
A lady tried to sell me a wrap for 1000 shillings and I haggled it down to 600,
and I was very proud. Then I saw another lady selling a different wrap and
haggled it down to 200. I eventually began having a good old time trying to get
away from the sellers and kept wandering down the beach. I noticed how
beautiful and sad the women were, and how old the men were. The beach was full
of “couples” like this, an old man with a prostitute. I took a step back and
tried to look at the beach through the eyes of Jesus. All I could see were
broken people. People selling as many bracelets as they could so that they could
have food that night. Prostitutes trying not to look miserable as they looked
out from underneath fake eyelashes. Old men pretending that they weren’t paying
for company. Broken people. We always tend to look at people from the outside
and we forget that everybody that we come into contact with is an actual
person.
Look at
yourself. Look into your heart. Think of all the thoughts that are swirling
around in your head and all the feelings you go through on any given days. Then
think of all the people we try not to think about. Prostitutes, the poor…they
all have thoughts and feelings, too. Dreams and desires that go beyond their
current situation. Think of all of the billions of the people on this earth and
ponder for a moment the absolutely infinite number of thoughts that occur every
single day. It’s a crazy thing. Everyone has a life and nobody truly, truly
understands each other. It’s a sad but beautiful thing.
The
beautiful thing is that God understands each and every one of us perfectly.
love christie
Wow. Beautifully written!
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