Zed's Dishes

There is a potter who works at RVA named Zed. He makes amazing things. This summer, after several unsuccessful shopping trips, I set my heart on having Zed make my dishes. I dropped by his studio and described what I wanted. After a few weeks of waiting, they were done! And they are awesome. The only problem was that "medium bowls" aren't soup bowl size, but huge . . . like the one in the picture. So I bought one medium bowl and put in an order for 4 small bowls. =) Someday I'll take pictures of Zed at work, today pictures of his work will have to suffice.

Hospital Visits (or Why Titchies Climb Trees)

Living within walking distance of the hospital can be a good thing. Actually, walking distance is pretty crucial in my life, since I don’t have a car! That works out pretty well up here though.

Last week I found out that there are two babies in the nursery that have been abandoned. Monicah is a preemie, just over three pounds, and was brought in by some relatives. She is tiny, but not as small as some of the other preemies in there! The other baby doesn’t have a name. She is the only full-term baby in the nursery since hospital procedure is to place healthy babies in the bed with their mothers. The hospital staff went back to check on her mother and found the baby alone in the bed. I’ve been down to hold her a few times this week and she is possibly the cutest thing ever. Please pray for special families for both of these babies. Pray also for their mothers, and for whatever situation prevents them from being able to take care of them.

My other big trip to the hospital happened last Wednesday . . . student health at RVA schedules dentist appointments for the entire elementary school, and the nurses spent all day shuttling a class at a time down to the dental office for quick checkups. My class was scheduled to go right after lunch and I was looking forward to a good hour or so to plan for the next week. As I was ushering kids into the school van and reminding them to be good and bring homework, a group of third graders came running from the playground. “Miss Anderson, Penny fell from a tree and she’s SCREAMING!”

I arrived at the scene of the accident to see a very distraught student cradling an awkwardly bent wrist. Thus began a very long afternoon. First we had to walk to student health, which isn’t that far away but was kind of traumatic for Penny. It was on that walk as I questioned her about where her parents – who are both doctors – were that day and she realized with a wail . . . “They’re in NaiRObi!” After a brief inspection by the nurse, we left a very understaffed student health in the charge of one of the nurse’s husbands (all the nurses were either in Nairobi or at the dental clinic) and drove Penny down to the hospital. It was a short trip but every bump (and there are a million) brought screams.

Because this is Africa and things are different, I went to the dental office to get Penny’s patient number and nurse Jackie took my student to start the process of x-rays. And there was my entire class, chatting it up in the waiting room, updating me on their teeth and asking about Penny. Cute. =) Then back to the hospital to wait in a very long line for an x-ray. That process was quite painful for my girl, having to rotate her wrist for the technician . . . I’m sure her screams were not comforting to the 30 patients waiting in the hallway. About two hours later, x-rays had been taken that confirmed she needed surgery and her mom was almost back from Nairobi, so I met back with my class and drove back to school in time to pack up and pray for Penny.

It’s all in the family here . . . one of my student’s fathers was the anesthesiologist who put Penny under and another student’s father was the orthopedic surgeon who set her wrist. And the trooper was back at school the next day, anxious for access to my bag of Sharpies so that little cast was plain white no longer. So that’s why we let Titchies climb trees, because we live so close to a hospital that can patch them up.

School Days

The Chicken Pox Scare: After school one day, the dorm mom of my 4^th graders called me up with disturbing news – a suspected case of chicken pox. My student was to spend the night in Student Health and I should be aware. In the morning, my principal confirmed that she did indeed have chicken pox and told me I’d have a list soon of the kids in my room that hadn’t had it – the vaccine isn’t so popular out here. Of course the class was abuzz and we prayed earnestly for my little girl, that she wouldn’t be afraid sleeping in the infirmary, that she wouldn’t itch too much, that God would heal her, that she wouldn’t miss her parents. While the kids worked, I made a big sign on butcher paper to brighten up her room in student health, anticipating she’d be there for a week or so, and the kids started coloring it and writing little notes.

And then the object of our prayers walked through the door. Misdiagnosed chicken pox. She was fine. The half-finished sign rolled up and stuck in the closet.

Boarding School: When kids live at school, life looks different. The school bells ring all throughout the day, including the start of dinner, end of sports practice, and night curfew. I’ve been hanging out at some of the high school girls’ dorms and I am shocked by how much homework they have. I really don’t think I worked this hard in high school! I was invited to dorm dinner this week at Tembo, which is the 2^nd-4^th grade dorm. What a job those dorm parents have, keeping charge of 12 little boys and girls!

The school plans activities every weekend for the students. Friday night is Titchie activities . . . so far we’ve had an ice cream social and bingo night. Last Friday night I found myself standing in my classroom at 7pm, staring at my students, trying to play “parts of speech bingo.” I had to laugh. This week we forfeited our Friday night activity because Saturday was . . .

TITCHIE FIELD DAY!!

Theme: Pirates of Kijabe. (I am proud to say I suggested that one.) I love field day, even if it is on Saturday. =) My station was the parachute (aka “Hoist the Sail!”) and was quite entertaining. A lot of the siblings of boarding students came too, so it was a full crowd. And since so many parents were visiting, it was Senior Store this weekend, meaning I waited in line for 45 minutes for an awesome cheeseburger. AND . . . this morning the most fantastic doughnuts in the world were delivered to my door. I cannot even describe how amazing these doughnuts are, and I’m not even a doughnuts person. Sooo . . . I’m going to have to come up with a creative way to dispose of the 11 vanilla glazed pieces of heaven in my house right now . . . yikes.

Arrg! The first grade teacher and me!

Parachute fun.

Little kids getting in on the action.

MY precious kiddos!

Rain

Funny how the rain dictates much of life here. Generally, the rain cramps my style, but it’s not fair to complain when the farmers are so desperate. We’re nearing the end of the rainy season with little to show for it. Every day during chai someone prays for rain. Almost every Kenyan in the area has their own shamba – garden – in which they grow the majority of their food. Obviously no rain means a poor harvest, but it brings other problems, too. Elephants from the valley started making their way up the hillside to the villages around RVA, searching for food. They caused quite a bit of panic for many of the workers that walk down here every day. My worker, Gladys, told me she heard people screaming one night and went outside to see the elephants trampling some shambas down the hill from her house. Scary! (Although I admit I’m dying to see them . . .)

Another bizarre effect of the rain is that it causes a plague-like epidemic of flying ants to rise from the depths of the earth to attack the innocent people living in the area. I have no idea where these things come from, but they are disgusting. One rainy night I was at my friend Courtney’s, enjoying a lovely time chatting away, when the flying ants started crawling under the door and buzzing about her house. It was like a horror film as we stuffed towels under the door and took shoes to the ones that somehow squeezed through. The incredible thing is that the kids here EAT them. They fry them up or just pluck off the wings and crunch away. One got into my class yesterday and I literally spoke the words “you may NOT eat that in my classroom!” and then thought, what did I just say?

Rain means my kids take off their shoes when they come into the classroom – on, off, on, off – all day long. It means they are allowed to play in the room unsupervised while I chug my coffee with the teachers during recess. It means yelling over the pound of rain on the tin roof as I try to teach. It means I run around during my lunch break taking my laundry off the line and hanging them in the attic. Rain means I don’t collect my shower water to pour over my flowers in front of my house. This process gets a bit tedious but I have started to feel guilty every time I watch water go down the drain. Rain means the ‘roads’ turn to mud and my floor will never stay clean. Rain means those wellies were a good buy. :)

First Day

8:00 Eager children, pictures with the teacher, shouting in the hallway, backpacks, parents, timid hellos . . . the first day of school started off like so many others. I welcomed 16 cheerful faces into fourth grade and started them to work, going over my expectations and procedures. While many of the standards are the same, so many things were different about this first day.

Six of my students are boarding here and their dorm parents' daughter is in my class as well, meaning almost half of my students live in the same house. The others live either on upper station - RVA, or lower station, which hosts two hospitals and a Bible college. My beginning-of-the-year questionnaire started with: Where are you from? Where do your parents live? And . . . I had several kids ask me how to answer that question. I told them I was right there with them . . . "Where are you from?" still sends me for a loop.


10:00 Chai time. Kids grabbed a snack on the way out to an (almost) unsupervised recess time. They know where to find their teachers - the staff room with tea or coffee in hand. The 25 minutes flew by, and after debriefing about the morning, we prayed for our students, especially the new ones, and for sickness and safety.

11:55 Lunch! I took the boarders down to the new cafeteria and dropped them off . . . the rest disappeared to their homes or to settle on steps around Titchie. I headed home myself for an hour of catching up on email.

1:00 The kids lined up outside the room, chattering excitedly about our Titchie hike. After bathroom needs completed and water bottles are filled, the entire elementary headed on an almost two-hour hike around lower station. We learned which tree the Maasai use for deodorant - prompting all the sixth grade boys to finish the hike with leaves stuffed under their armpits. I relinquished the teacher 'field trip panic' and trusted that my kids would make it through ok . . . and they all did. And I got to play outside for a good two hours of my afternoon!



3:30 The last of my kids straggled back from the hike, grabbed their gear, and headed home. This teacher paused to reflect on a good first day, a new class, and the responsibility of educating these 16 little ones.