that long dirt road

After finding out that morning that I had one day left before a three week trip to Nairobi I knew I wanted to say goodbye to a few people. I also knew that would mean finding some courage to be a bit adventurous. There is one main road that runs through our village. It’s the main highway that travels north and south along the coast of Kenya and it separates our village right down the middle. But getting to my friend’s house wasn’t the issue (because I knew the general direction to go) it was the thought of having to show up unexpected that made my stomach turn in knots.

 

Me with Salena (aka Mama Joyce) and Elizabeth... my two closest friends in the village.

A friend was visiting for the day so I decided this would be fun to bring her along to. We finished lunch with my Kenyan family and then I had a long conversation with my Kenyan Father convincing him that I knew which direction to go. “Remember the map you drew for me last weekend to show me where we were going to the funeral… yea it is still in my head so I’ll just follow the road to the left, past Mama Clemens house and then Mama Joyce and Elizabeth’s house will be ‘just down the road’”…. His response, “I still think it would be good for you to travel with someone….” I then threw out the best excuse I could come up with (and it really is the honest truth)… “When I travel with one of you, the people in the village only communicate with you not with me, when I walk alone, I’m the one that is greeted.” With a convincing smile on my face that I knew where I was going and that I wanted to do it alone, he finally agreed and we left.

Mama Clemens... she is one of the most fun ladies!

My friend and I walked along the dirt road that leads to the road as I greeted one child after another and a few of the mom’s who were doing their wash or cleaning up their yards. “Habari yako-How are you?” and I would get the only response to that greeting that exists… “Mzuri-good”.  I told my friend the names of all my little kids as we walked and a little bit about them. After looking right then left we crossed the street and began the journey up the next dirt road to the left where the primary school is on our left and duka’s (mini stores) and homes lined the right side. Within a few minutes we reached Mama Clemens house and her store where of course we were greeted, convinced to sit down and catch up on life. I informed her in my broken Swahili that I was leaving tomorrow for Malindi and then a few days later taking a night bus to Nairobi for 3 weeks. We talked a bit about Christmas plans which may or may not include a walk to the beach sometime that week, and then promised we would stop by on our way back for a soda (praise the Lord it wasn’t hot chai!)

the dirt road from my home that leads to the main road.

We continued our walk down this dirt road waving to people and answering their greetings, “Mzuri!” with a smile. After just a few minutes four kids came running that I recognized. Elizabeth na Salena… wapi? Their answers… “Salena alienda nyumba rafiki kwasababu mtoto anatapika-Salena went to her friend’s house because a baby is sick & Elizabeth anaweka maji –Elizabeth is getting water” My first thought (being honest) wasn’t poor child but rather… a phone call would have been so much easier because then I would have known neither of them were home! I asked the kids where E was getting water and they pointed across the dirt road down a path. I asked them to take us and we followed. About five minutes into our walk I spotted E and a bunch of ladies around a well where one woman was rhythmically raising the handle up and down to put about a liter into her 10 liter container. E, knowing she had visitors dropped the idea of fetching water and took us back to her home.

After greeting her aunt, mom, dad, more aunts, more women from her home and who knows who the other people actually were, we sat down for a few and talked. Inside my brain, the thoughts went something like this, “If I would have called first she would have told me she was fetching water and we could have planned a time that was more convenient for her… I know she has a lot of things she needs to be doing right now and yet she is willing to just sit and talk with us like we are the only thing that matters… I have a lot to learn about the importance of people and what really matters in life… I have so much to learn from these amazing people!”

As awkward as it was to just show up at someone’s home and even more awkward when they weren’t there, it was completely normal for them and I haven’t seen her face so excited in awhile to know I had come to visit. I did however make plans to return the next day and told her to let Salena know. We walked back to Mama Clemens place, enjoyed our soda and then she walked back with us because we had a church service.

If only I could say I was as brave the next day… packing, getting my room ready to leave for a few weeks (much more difficult because creatures can get into everything you leave out and lizard droppings are no fun to scrap off of anything left out) I had about an hour before I needed to leave. I went back and forth in my head, “I should go, but what if she’s not there… I’ll just send her a text and tell her bye, wait that’s probably not culturally okay… maybe I just won’t say goodbye, that’s completely normal here.” And then I have a conversation with our associate pastor who had just come from Salena’s home…

Me- Is she home?

Him- she was when I left.

Me- should I go or should I call first?

Him- you could go, she probably is there.

Me- probably… what if she’s not? I only have an hour

About 10 minutes into our conversations

Him- she mentioned you and said she thought you might come by.

Me- she mentioned me?? Why didn’t you tell me that 10 minutes ago? I guess I’m going then…

Him- have fun!

So I went, they were both there this time. We sat on wooden chairs that I thought would break and baby Kadzo walked straight to me and cuddled while we talked. They told me 3 weeks is a long time but were very happy I would be back for Christmas “Munga akipenda-If God is willing”. As quick as the visit was (and really not okay for their culture) I knew I had to get back and leave or risk traveling at dark (not safe at all). I said my goodbyes, gave hugs and they walked me to the road.

Baby Kadzo

As I walked the dirt road across the street that leads back to my house I held back the tears that so easily wanted to flow. If saying goodbye to them for three weeks is hard how in the world am I going to manage in an year and half when I have to return to the states. And it’s not just leaving these people that makes me said but the new culture I am learning and the lifestyle of village life that I love and speaking Swahili with such ease that I surprise myself all the time.

The long walk back down the dirt road.

It’s been two weeks since I’ve said these goodbyes and the tears desire to flow just as much as they did that hot, humid afternoon as I walked home. I sit in the comfort of a two story apartment, glancing up from my computer every now and then and seeing the beautiful faces of my kids, Kenyan parents, and life in the village that are captured in the pictures I’ve taken. Samuel’s eyes and smile get me every time… I can’t wait to walk that dirt road again… this time returning there to stay for awhile!

One of my favorites pictures of Samuel and I.