Gillian, Duke Divinity School student and 2009 Umoja Project intern
After about 2.5 weeks in Kenya we moved in with families in the Chulaimbo area. I live with a very big family on a compound in the village. By compound, I mean a fenced in area with five houses. “Mama Rhoda” is the mama of the house. She lives in the house at the top of the hill and everyone living in the other houses are in and out of her house for breakfast and dinner. There are about 10-15 people coming and going from her house each day. Included in that number are two adorable kids, Collins (age 7) and Glory (age 5). They were both very shy at the start, but after my attempts at speaking very broken Dho-luo, sharing my yo-yo, and playing games with them (like drawing pictures on the ground with tree twigs)they finally warmed up to me. Actually, I found out that their English is really quite good.
Glory’s mom and Mama Rhoda’s daughter-in-law, Josephine, is only a couple of years older than I, and has taken it upon herself to show me around the village. She has shown me the garden, let me help feed and water the chickens, taught me how to cook ugali, and made me watch chicken preparation (which included the plucking and the gutting). The other night we had a really splendid time in the kitchen. Josephine taught me a fun song and dance that she learned in secondary school and I taught her the Cupid Shuffle. The ladies cooking supper also joined in as we closed the curtains in the kitchen and danced and laughed the night away.
Bercons, who is the brother-in-law to Mama Rhoda, has also taken me around the village. He and I have been going to visit the elderly who are sick and are no longer able to make it to church. Much in the same way that I did house visits at my plcement last summer. It seems that loneliness is a universal struggle. However, often times here the older “Mamas” still have family living with them.
Along with Glory and Collins there are two even more recent additions to the family. One is a little girl about 3 weeks old, and the other is a little boy, born the day after I arrived at the house. I met Juliet 9 months pregnant, and rode with her to the hospital. A few days later she came home with a beautiful baby boy named David. That same day she had her baby I also went to my first African funeral. It was a graveside service with many speeches, mourners dressed in white, and lots of food. It was a day where people spoke both of new life on earth and in heaven.