What does a camel call its goat?

Tonight as I was helping a horde of kids with "maths" homework after dinner, two older kids came up to me with we're-up-to-something looks on their faces and said "We need to ask you a question." I said "Fine, but make it quick." You can't mess around in a room of 50+ who are supposed to be homeworking. Here was the question: What does a camel call its goat? Thinking they were trying to tell me a joke, I was not amused...trying to think in liters and kilograms was kicking my butt, and I was exhausted. I replied "I don't know what you're saying. Go ask Dad." They didn't want to, which made me even more sure it was a joke on the muzungu. This time one of the kids I was helping tried to assist us by asking the question again, only this time it sounded like What does a Hindu call its goat? What. Somewhat irritated, I repeated "I don't know what you're asking me. Go ask Dad." They wouldn't. "Guys, I don't know what a Hindu calls its goat. Go ask one of the uncles." Uproarious laughter. Everyone around me kept repeating what I thought was the joke until I finally deduced that they were actually asking me what do Hindus call their god? Oops. That's a legitimate homework question if I ever heard one. I'm telling you, friends, those accents are still a struggle for me. I guess this is just one more thing for the kids to add to the list of ridiculous things this muzungu says/does!

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I've been living at First Love for a little over a month now, and although I have been terrible at journaling and blogging since then, I did write down how I felt that first night here, so I thought I'd share!

From January 16: I officially came to stay at First Love last night for the first time and oh, my cup overflows! I was a bit uncomfortable at first because I’m still unsure of exactly what my role here is supposed to be, but as soon as the kids returned from school my doubts were gone. Dozens of little hands holding my own, sitting on my lap, asking to be picked up, playing with my hair. I was swarmed by all of these little people with wide smiles, giggling with the delight of a new visitor. One little girl kept kissing my hands over and over again, and all of the kids (and I) couldn’t get enough hugs. After about an hour of just delighting in each other, it was time for devotions. A room filled with 80 rowdy, noisy kids clapping their hands and singing praises to our LORD has to be one of the most beautiful scenes I have ever been blessed to witness. Simply, stunningly beautiful. Dinner involved a lot more laughter as the girls I sat with tested my Swahili skills (I have about five words now, ha) and told me that I should eat my ugali with a spoon because I’m a muzungu (I ended up opting to eat with my hands, like a true Kenyan!) My doubts about being here are gone. My cup overflows.

First Love is still an amazing place to be, and I dread the day I need to say goodbye. I am truly impressed with the way things are run here, and love the people I get to work alongside of. Chris is the director of First Love and his wife Irene also works here and is mine and Rochelle’s field placement supervisor. Chris and Irene are the founders of the orphanage and they would and do do everything for these kids—I have seen them work 12+ hour days more times than I can count. I am reasonably sure that they are the most kind-hearted and loving people I have ever met; they greet me with hugs each morning and ask if I need anything, and when I was sick they each showed up to check on me. This morning Chris was introducing me to a visitor and he said, "Anna came here as an intern, but you know now she's our daughter." How blessed I am.

Being loved by people here reminds me of how I always forget that we were created to be in community—just like when I spent the summer in Texas, I continue to want so badly to be independent and not need others (I also hate to say goodbye, which can be avoided if I avoid community!) But God always knows better. He always provides. He always surrounds me with community that I never could have imagined.

Boaz (who happens to be Chris’s brother) and his wife also named Irene, are “Dad” and “Mom” to the 72 kids here (which includes 3 of their biological kids). They live on First Love’s compound and know and love these kids like their own. Their boys were in boarding school before Boaz accepted a position here this past summer, and he and Irene pulled them out to come live alongside the kids here. Boaz said that he didn’t want anyone to be able to think that he wasn’t treating the kids here as if they are his own, and his kids truly do live just like and with all the others here. What conviction. What dedication. Boaz can be found at 5 am keeping the little boys from having a wild rumpus in their dorm as they get ready for school, at endless school meetings throughout the day (he had nearly 70 parent-teacher meetings the other week…can you imagine?), and checking everyone’s homework until bedtime at 9. He truly has a servant’s heart.

So now that I've told you how incredible First Love is, you probably wonder what I do all day! Unfortunately the kids have really long school days (leaving around 6:30 and getting home at 4:30/5), because I wish I could just hang out with them all day! There are three main things I divide my time between:

School: On Tuesdays and Thursdays I go to the elementary school that most of the kids here attend and help in pre-unit (kind of like our preschool; we have 3-5 year-olds). Sometimes I'm left alone to teach which I don't love because most of the kids only know Swahili and sometimes they pee on the floor and everyone tries to tell me but I don't know what they're saying so I have to find out for myself...but jumping into things a bit unprepared tends to be my experience here in Kenya, so I'm learning a lot! The kids are cute and hilarious, which makes my days there fun.

Baraka Women's Center: ("Baraka" means "blessing" in Swahili) This is my favorite project, by far. The Baraka Center is here on First Love's campus and is a training program for women from the nearby Kibera slum to learn to be seamstresses. Empowering women so they can take care of their families is one of the most important aspects of ending poverty and something that I am passionate about being a part of so naturally I am all about Baraka's mission. The women make products that are sold in the U.S.: bags, quilts, dolls, toys, jewelry, aprons, etc. We're hoping to somehow develop a demand for the products here in Kenya, but that's still in process. Rochelle and I are working on an online catalog of the products to make ordering easier. There is an incredible artist named Leonard also from Kibera who is teaching the women to make greeting cards that will also be sold and I'm coordinating that project (today I joined the lesson and because I don't speak Swahili my map of Africa on the card ended up facing the wrong way...ha). There's a potential that I will start teaching the women to make some earrings too--I am very excited about that!

Case files: The only description this needs is: welcome to the rest of my life as a social worker :). 

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Life here is good, and full. I keep feeling like just when I start feeling like I'm lacking something, God provides: I was just starting to get fed up with not being able to easily connect to people back home, and I now have reliable wifi where I'm living (until the power next goes out, so as reliable as Kenya gets!) I skyped with my roommates from back home yesterday morning and with Krista last night...it was wonderful. (Those who are hoping we can skype soon, you're next!) Today I was feeling a bit lonely, and I ended up having an awesome conversation with a new friend at lunch about his future dreams and the difference between Kenyan and American politics...and you all know I love a good political discussion. Tonight I was asked at the last minute to do devotions for everyone before dinner, a task that really intimidated me, and God provided the words. He is good.

Life is beautiful.

You swept me away: An ode to Valentine's Day in a Kenyan Orphanage

(Can you tell from the title which album I've had on repeat lately?)

I've been in Kenya for nearly 6 weeks now, and I get a panicky feeling in my stomach every time I think of the fact that there is less than 10 weeks remaining. I have settled into life at the orphanage as much as possible (a friend asked me the other day what a typical day is like which is a question I can't answer! I don't think I've had a typical day since landing in Kenya, and I love that). I'm becoming more familiar with Nairobi and Karen (the suburb of Nairobi where First Love is), riding matatus, turning down offers to try various types of meat, seeing camels and baboons on the side of the road, shaking everyone's hand when I enter a room, and faking my way through Swahili conversations. I love it all.

Valentine's Day snuck up on me this year. First of all, it doesn't feel like February at all here (I've already gotten sunburned twice this month). Secondly, I never know the date because it usually seems rather irrelevant to my daily life. So I didn't even realize Valentine's Day was fast approaching until someone mentioned it the week before, and I was still unfazed...I never do much for the day of love other than enjoy a lot of post-Valentine's Day sale candy.

Life at an orphanage and with kids is different though, and we threw what I will argue was the best Valentine's Day part-ay ever.

There are a handful of wazungu working at First Love: myself, Ginger (who works at Baraka Women's Center...more on that later!), Nancy the nurse, Jane (an intern from the Czech Republic), Rochelle (an honorary muzungu), and Tom and Linda, who are the directors of First Love International and just completed a six week stay in Kenya on Saturday. There are also a dozen+ Kenyan staff who live and work at First Love, and do more of the day-to-day care of the kids. Our Valentine's Day party was to be two-fold: both to party with the kids and to honor the Kenyan staff for dedicating their lives to these kids by letting them relax and enjoy the party while the wazungu cooked, served and cleaned.

We spent Friday afternoon decorating the dining hall with hearts and doilies and rose centerpieces (I'm adding flower arrangement to my resume!) and cooking a ridiculous amount of food. Since the rainy season has started unexpectedly, we were doing so amid the power going on and off for a few hours...thankfully it was back on by the time the kids got back from school! There are 85 kids + staff, meaning we were cooking for 100+ without industrial stoves. I was on spaghetti duty, and here's a lesson I won't forget: don't turn off the stove! We have to light the gas stoves here with matches, and somehow my match box disappeared after the first pot of spaghetti, with 9 more pots to be cooked....ay ay ay (as the Kenyans would say). Despite some panicked moments, we somehow pulled off a huge meal of spaghetti, peas and carrots, coleslaw and bread, not to mention 250 cookies.

When the kids finally arrived, it was so fun to see them in the dining hall. Everything was exciting: there are paper hearts taped to the walls, wow! These doilies, I've never seen anything more beautiful! The wazungu are in the kitchen...what? ha. Seeing things I take for granted through the eyes of children never stops being fun...their excitement about things I don't usually care about (i.e. Valentine's Day) is absolutely contagious.

We inefficiently served the food (props to Dominic, the cook, and the aunties who work in the kitchen and do this for every meal!) Most of the kids loved it, but we had a few returned plates from the babies (the littlest kids here are 4 & 5 years old and always referred to as the babies). They had never had noodles before and were afraid that they were worms! No worries, they got lots of extra veggies and bread.

After the meal, a group of middle-schoolers did a dance routine, complete with djembe in the background. It was well-done, but also hilarious...oh, how I love those kids.

Next we had a time of worship which was, as always, amazing. There was a Swahili song or two and Days of Elijah, which we sing every night before dinner. I don't think these lyrics will ever leave my head for the rest of my life: Behold He comes/ riding on the clouds/ shining like the sun at the trumpet's call/ Lift your voice/ it's the year of Jubilee/ out of Zion's hill salvation comes! My dear Frida, a high-schooler here led the worship with some backup singers, and my heart was filled with such joy as I danced alongside nearly a hundred orphans with eyes closed shouting "lift your voice! it's the year of Jubilee! out of Zion's hill SALVATION COMES!" There was unimaginable joy in that room, my friends. I can't even describe it.

As wonderful as the worship was, the next part of the party was my favorite: each Kenyan staff member was honored individually by a child who gave a little speech about them and presented them with a gift. Doris, Caroline, Zipporah, Diana, Irene x2, Boaz, Chris, John, Patrick, Dominic, Steven: these are people with servant's hearts, doing immensely important work...they're raising 85 kids, and doing it incredibly well. Frida was asked to speak about Doris, and she told her "I want you to know that when any of the girls see you here, they think there's my mother, because you are our mother." I cried for the first time since I've been in Kenya, and these were tears of absolute joy.

We of course wrapped up the night with dessert: 2 cookies each, ice cream (a very rare treat for these kids), and pop. It was mass chaos: the babies were falling asleep on their tables, you couldn't hear over the yelling, pop was spilled all over the floor, brain freezes were happening left and right, cookies were being traded and thrown, someone threw up...(yeah, that's not a factor to be included in making it a great party). The ear-to-ear grins on those kids faces though: those cannot be beat. I've never seen a more beautiful sight in my 21 years. This was my favorite Valentine's Day yet.

Valentine's Day at First Love made me realize that I've fallen in love with this place and these kids. I'm at USIU (the college I'm kind of attending) right now and I literally ache to think that I won't be there when my babies get home from school this afternoon. I can't wait to go back to where I belong.