Jamboni marafiki wangu! Hello my friends. It is interesting how my language changes when I am overseas. Certain nuances in the way we talk in the states are different than the English spoken here, and it takes a few days to get acculturated to these differences, but its great when I return, and I throw in a few Swahili words by accident when I talk to people â˜º If I speak to you in the week after, expect an accidental â€œsawaâ€ or â€œsindyoâ€ thrown in the conversation. Iâ€™ll tell you right now sawa means â€œOKâ€, and sindyo means â€œYes, No?â€ or the best equivalent is â€œYa know?â€
Sawa, let me continue this journal of my time overseas. Sawa? Sawa!
Quick recap: meeting with Maboyz again here in Nairobi has made a huge change in my plans here. I basically talked a lot of smack before I left. Many of you heard me say â€œYea, Iâ€™m gonna climb mount Kenya!â€ or â€œHey! Gonna climb the highest mountain in Kenyaâ€ but really â€“ things change when you get here. And being here and seeing Maboyz again, I realize Iâ€™d rather spend more time with them, so, instead of taking a 4 day trek into the wilderness, Iâ€™m gonna be spending one night in Nakuru, which is a lake town and game park, north of Nairobi. I hope to see some Rhinos and Leopards, sindiyo?
As I wrote before, I have felt kinda torn being here. I have so much attachment to the guys Iâ€™ve been working with since my last visit, earlier this year, and seeing how much theyâ€™ve changed and how much their group has grown in numbers, maturity, and consistency, makes me want to be a part of it so much more, but it is sad because I know I have to leave.
But itâ€™s been both difficult, wonderful, painful, and rewarding. Last night they had at the church , what they call, a Kesha, or an all night vigil of prayer, singing, skits, games, movie, etc. As for me, Iâ€™m not one who can pray for 8 hours straight, most of my prayer, I like to spend alone, I guess. But its good with the masses every so often. A few of the guys showed up, and as they were arriving, I was upstairs in my flat, getting ready to play some guitar and leading the group in some songs. Itâ€™s been a long (very long) time since Iâ€™ve done that sorta thing, and so I was nervous. Plus the guitar I was to use, had a broken string. And I get very particular about sound, and if Iâ€™m missing a string, I get worked up. So I was lucky to have a friend downstairs named Tim who had a guitar and was generous enough to let me borrow it for the evening.
Once the gathering started, one of the guys walked in, and letâ€™s just say he wasnâ€™t doing too well. We told him he should go home, get sobered up and then come back. I wasnâ€™t sure if it was the right thing to do, but it did make sense at the time. Maybe itâ€™s about building discipline, if he can control himself one day a week? I dunno, I have no idea how these things work, but as far as addiction goes, I can sympathize. I think we all can. Thereâ€™s always something that has us kinda bound: big things, small things. Itâ€™s all the same at the end, just some have bigger consequences than others.
He ended up leaving and the night continued. But with a sort of bittersweet note, for me.Â I was spending most of the time worried about this kid. As I started playing Timâ€™s guitarâ€¦ the most amazing thing happened, the strap broke. Then, a string popped, then another string snapped! And my one hour gig, turned into 15 minutes of clumsy, yet very musical, playing and singing, and for those 15 minutes, everyone was feeling it. Well, at least I was for sure â˜º
It was also special because it was the first time Nadia and I sang and played together in such a long time and it was kick-ass for sure.
Iâ€™m writing this in MS Word (for Mac) (since I have no net connection right now), and Iâ€™m surprised to find that â€œkickassâ€ is not recognized by the spell checker, and is telling me that Iâ€™ve misspelled it. I guess itâ€™s time to add â€œkickassâ€ to the correct spelling list â˜º
At around 1:30am, in the middle of an intense game of Bible trivia, boys vs. girls, Iâ€™m told that the boy from earlier, was passed out on the street right outside the gate, and had been sleeping there in the cold for bout 2 hours.
Mena and I tried to wake him up, but he would not budge, so the guards kept an eye on him and we went back at 2:30 to get him.
Mena and Junae and Kimani, three brothers who are living here in Kenya. Iâ€™m just so amazed by them, and their love for the guys, and how much work theyâ€™ve put into their group in the last 7 months. Iâ€™m happy to know that they are here as I don’t think anyone else could do the job, sindiyo?
We brought him in, and spent until 4:30 with him keeping him company, trying to get him to stay alert. We got him food and tea, it was hard. This guy was a really amazing person, yet, covered by so much crap. You see the potential, yet you know he doesnâ€™t really want help, or maybe he doesnâ€™t think thereâ€™s a way out. At the end of the day, itâ€™s a challenge in letting go, but loving and pursuing, and staying dedicated unconditionally. But how that balance is achieved is very hard.
He couldnâ€™t even hold the tea, because he was shaking so much.
At the end, I feel just so inadequate. Inadequate to help, and inadequate to have any answers to why this is the way it is. But you have to keep on going, because it isnâ€™t about me. But you canâ€™t do this kinda work without seeing yourself in these guys. You have to relate toÂ your own struggles, and your own challenges. These guys serve me, I think more than I serve them.
Couldnâ€™t sleep at all, but finally passed out around 6am, waking up at 10. Not much sleep.
We had the Maboyz meeting a few hours ago, and we tried a few new exercises with them, challenging them to go deeper. What a lovely time it was though. To see these guys open up, and learn to trust each other more. It is really something magical to just witness.
One of the guys in particular, told me how sad he was that I was gonna leave in a week.
â€œWhat have you decided about Maboyz, Paul? Will you come stay with us?â€
How do you answer such a question?
It feels good to be loved. It humbles me. I know for sure that for now I am supposed to be in New York. What the future has, I have no idea, but one thing is for sure, being in Kenya is part of my yearly plan.
Earlier that day,I was thinking about how the new guys I really donâ€™t connect as well as the older ones because we didnâ€™t have time to spend one on one like I had with the others.
But fate has it, that today, the new guys all showed up earlier, and the rest showed up an hour later, and it really gave us a good chance to bond.
We had fun though, one of the guys taught me some Kempo Karate. I told some of the guys the story of Che Guevarra, Cheâ€™s image is an icon all over Kenya, yet no one really knows who he is, where he came from, or what he did. Matatu vehicles all over the country have his icon branded on the rear window, and as they drive by, and you hear the muffled sound of what is to the passengers, piercing Ragga (not reggae) music, vibrating down the sometimes rocky, sometimes smooth roads of Nairobi.
But I digress.
I am here now at the Java house, unwinding with a cup of coffee, and writing these things out. Iâ€™m an introvert, actually, and I need these times every day in order to stay sane â˜º
I have a lot to think about, but I look forward to a few relaxing days in the countryside amongst the rivers, the mountains, hyenas and flamingos.
More to come, and more photos as well – - Give my best to my city, and my country, and I miss you all so much. CHAU LOCOS!!