Kids ask the darndest things

I know it’s been a long time since I’ve blogged. I feel like nothing too exciting has happened, so then I think people won’t want to read about non-exciting things. Not that my first two posts were exciting. Anyway.

An update with Juma’s (my Swahili teacher) family is that they are moving to their new farm tomorrow! When I first got here 3 months ago, Juma and his wife talked to me about how much they wanted a bigger piece of land so they could be self-sufficient and not rely on donors for their kids’ school fees and food and things like that. The compound they’re on now is an okay size, but not big enough to grow all the food they need. So they had plans to find land to lease, and over a period of about five years, they would hope to pay for it and actually buy it. But then this guy that Juma knows had inherited a piece of land just outside of Kitale town. I don’t know ‘this guy’s’ name, so let’s just call him Bill for now. Mr. Bill had a brother who was killed in the post election violence of 2007/2008. So when his brother died, Bill got the land. But he already had another piece of property where he lives, hours away from Kitale. So he rented out the land. He heard that Juma was looking to lease land, and because they have known each other for many years, Mr. Bill wanted to help Juma. Anyway, the property that Juma is moving to is much bigger than where they are now, so they swapped properties. This way, Juma just has to pay the difference in value for the properties, instead of paying for the whole entire farm outright. It is just crazy to see God work sometimes. Just three months ago, they were thinking about a five year plan, and now, three months later, they are moving to an amazing piece of land!

Today I stopped by to help them pack. I actually just put some clothes in bags for them, which did not take very long. So, I sat outside with the kids for a long time. And they started pelting me with questions. Some of which were, ‘have you ever been arrested’? I responded by laughing for about two minutes, and then telling them, no, I have never been arrested. Then they asked me if people in America own guns. I told them some do. Then they said, ‘so it must be easier to kill each other in America than it is here in Kenya’. I said that I guess having a gun might make it easier if you wanted to kill someone, but not everyone with guns kill people. I tried to explain that people like to hunt and they own guns for different reasons. Not everyone gets them to murder people. Not sure if they believed me. Then they asked, with big, round eyes, if I have ever held a gun. And I said I have, and I have done target shooting too. I don’t think they were crazy about that. I think they think guns are very, very bad. Then they asked if I’ve ever shot a bow and arrow, and I said a few times, but just at a target. I think they thought that was cooler. Probably because bows and arrows are familiar to them. Then they asked how old I am, and I made them guess. The age range went from 17 to 22. Except one girl said maybe I was 50. I wish I could have recorded their questions. It was literally over an hour and a half of question after question, and some of them were so funny. They kept asking if, when I was little, did my mom shave my head? And I kept telling them we don’t do that in America. People usually shave girls’ heads here because it’s easier than always braiding it or fixing it. And, for whatever reason, if their heads aren’t shaved, their hair still doesn’t really grow very long. Well, it’s hard to tell since it grows up, but it never seems long. Anyway, they couldn’t believe that my head has never been shaved. And they still always pet my head when I’m there because my hair feels different from theirs. Even when it’s pulled back, they try to run their hands through it, and like, pull it out of my head.

After Juma’s, I started to walk into town. I was only about 15 minutes into the walk, when an Indian woman pulled up beside me and asked if I wanted a ride. I’d never even seen her before, but I knew she was just being kind, so I got in the car with her. We asked each other our names and things like that. She said she was born here, and even her father was born here. So she has lived here all her life. Then she said she lives with her parents right now, and she has a brother in Australia, and a sister in India, but her sister is moving to Australia too. And she said she was married, but separated now because her husband was so abusive. He even electrocuted her once. She showed me the scars on her wrist. She also has two sons, but the father moved back to Zimbabwe (he is also Indian, just born in Zimbabwe) and took the children. She has not seen her sons in three years. She looked so torn up by that. I can’t even imagine. I didn’t know what to say after she told me everything. She poured out all these horrible things in like, a four minute car ride. After all that, all I could say was, ‘I am so sorry’. And she said, ‘it’s okay; it’s just a part of life sometimes’. But that can’t be the end. I know God can heal her and give her a full life. I didn’t say anything about God because all I know about her is that she’s had a hard life, or at least a hard life since she got married. I have no idea what her religious background is. So I just listened to her. But please pray with me for her. I would like to start visiting her, and I pray God will take her, heal her, and make her His. We all need God so much. Every day, in every part of our lives, He is needed. And He is there!