One Moment at a Time

Before I left for Kenya, my mom gave me an envelope full of quotes for me to read one at a time, as needed. Well, this week's quote was particularly fitting. Written by Leo Bascaglia, it reads, "Life is uncharted territory. It reveals its story one moment at a time."
This road through life this past weekend was full of bumps and potholes that I had not foreseen, and yet, in retrospect, I think everything worked out for the better. I switched to a new homestay on Friday after I learned my sister had stolen a few things from my bags, and that she often stole little bits of money from the house help (who basically has nothing) but my host mom never does anything about it. This, on top of my other frustrations with the family, led me to decide it was time to try a new route. The whole move was pretty haphazard, with the staff of the program here giving both me and my host family only about a half hour's notice. Although it was sad to leave the Joice (the househelp), I already went back to visit her for lunch today and we have plans to visit her family in the rural area together in May. All in all, I think it was definitely the right decision.
And my new family is absolutely great. They are so loving and kind, and a lot closer to what I imagined my homestay experience here would be like. There's a mom and dad and two girls, ages 7 and 10 (three years apart like Katie and me), and they've all been really welcoming. I share a room with the girls and the househelp, so it's a tight squeeze (with only 3 beds), but it's definitely cozy. Their 5-year-old cousin stays over a lot as well since his mom is sick, so then there's 5 of us, rotating and sharing beds. My first morning there on Saturday I was woken up by skinny legs climbing over me at 7 a.m. and a little voice saying "I want to play cards," in my ear. Then on Sunday I came home from a friend's to find the househelp and the girls and neighbor kids sprawled on the floor with the Minnesota deck of cards, one of them shouting "GO FISH!" Every day so far I've come home to new neighbors or cousins or relatives in the house, which makes for a lively atmosphere. And there's no end to the food! "We eat a lot here," Mama Sheila said to me the other day with a smile, "so that we're ready to face the many hard things in this country."
Last night I tagged along with my Mama Sheila and littlest host sister to the corner barbershop and got my hair chopped ("cut" would sound to precise) by a woman who'd never worked with a white person's hair before. It was definitely an experience! I figured it wouldn't turn out great, but with the heat here it's hard to keep your hair down for more than an hour in the morning anyway, so I figured I could deal with however it turned out. Once I helped her even out the front (one side was about an inch and a half longer than the other), it looked pretty decent. Rachel's bringing a scissors to school tomorrow, so we'll just put in a few finishing touches. And the best part is, it cost the equivalent of about $2! Definitely the cheapest haircut I've ever had.

There's so much more to write about -- from volunteering Saturdays with a group of children who are infected or affected by HIV/AIDS, to being all but thrown into a classroom in the slums to teach English, to the fiasco of picking up a simple package downtown -- but it's hard to capture life here in just a few paragraphs. I'll try to update again soon!

P.S. I had my first warm shower on Saturday since leaving the U.S. Enough said.