Expectations

What a difficult word to describe. "Expectations". Is it good to have them or not? You will always find people who will tell you that the easiest will be to simply have none and that way you will never get disappointed. But not having expectations? About anything? Is that even possible?

The whole idea of coming to Africa started when I was 16 years old visiting my sister in Argentina. I met some british people that were coming from Nigeria and ever since, it had been ranking top 1 on my bucket list. I had the opportunity through an unbelievable person called Antonieta to meet the girl who would give me the opportunity to come here, Valentina Baez M.D from the Razetti school UCV, through the largest student organisation in the world AIESEC. She came to Kenya to teach, but after several days realising that she could do more, she did. She created from scratch a new project called Healthy Kids where she gave basic examination to kids in the schools, got treatment when it was necessary and gave it to them. This project is her baby and she handed it over to me. Some big shoes to fill huh?

When I met her, and saw where I was getting myself into, I acted like a normal person in front of her, and cried all my way back home in the car... Was I ready to do this? Do I have the capacity of diagnosing children? What if they are too sick and nothing to do for them? Or if they are healthy and I think they are not?. I was feeling far from prepared. Prepared. Ha, nothing in the world could have prepared me for this.

After acknowledging what I was going to do, getting a lot of advice, and being repeated by many people that I could do the "medical" part, I built my own expectations: You are going to teach, you are going to conduct health weeks in the school, you are going to Kenya, you are going to live, and specially you are going to help. For some reason, every time I panicked that was the thought that came to my mind: "you are going to help", whether it is by sweeping the floor or kissing someones cheek to make them feel better, you are going to help. Nothing more. Help. Help.

By the time I got here on the 25th of July, the logistic people failed to tell me, tell us people in the education project that classes stop for holidays in the end of July, so my first week in GUUM School in Kibera was dedicated to exams to determine if they could pass grade or not. Ok, so no teaching this week. I'll do Health Week this same week and not waste anytime. Great. one week gone. Now what?

BAM! First expectation smashed. No teaching. I got the opportunity to transfer to different schools and taught a little in all of them while examining the kids and treating the ones who need it and deworming plus giving multivitamines to all of them. I must admit it wasn't easy, and it was a lot of work, but  doing this didn't seem enough. My body felt like I was doing a lot, because of how tired I got home late in the night, but just because I had created the perfect plan in my head "you will teach and do healthy weeks in the schools" it simply wasn't enough.

I met the Liter of Light project and fell immediately in love, and for one simple reason: you carry one million boxes, you climb the roof, you work morning and afternoon in the roof, you step down, go
inside the classroons and can't believe your eyes. Its there. Light. Where there wasn't. Light. You brought light to them, -and because we all get very philosophical here- you actually feel like you have brought a little bit of light to their hearts, and you will go back home with half an inch more in your hearts size.

Im recapitulating all of the story because on monday was my first official teaching day in the school where i was supposed to teach, with the children i was supposed to teach, in the slum i was supposed to be. And while standing in the classroom with two grades, dividing the blackboard into two because you have to teach the two of them simultaneously due to lack of teachers, I felt exhausted. I had no idea how to make them sit down and pay attention, or how to write down the exercise for grade 1 without neglecting grade 2. In that precise moment where I was completely lost, the sky got cleared, sun came out, and sunrays came speeding strongly through the bottle I put in that exact roof on top of me. Light entered to the roof and again, my heart got warm.

How funny the concept of expectations, I've been thinking for two months what more could I do because "my expectations are not getting fulfilled", when today, looking back I feel happy. I feel whole. I feel complete. I know for a fact I gave myself in body and soul and got back much more than I could expect. If my expectations would have been fulfilled, that would have been all I would do and I would have never got to know the entire different, beautiful world God gave me the chance of meeting, for that all I can say is I'm glad I felt "disappointed" due to that funny little word in my head: expectations.

My trip is coming to an end, and right now Im just trying to be a big sponge to absorb every single moment I have in this unbelievable rich country and make fun of my "crushed dreams" because I wasn't doing what I was supposed to.
In those planets in my mind where I pictured my life in Africa, I wouldn't even have dreamed to do the things I did, to learn what I did while looking through an entire city for the best wholesale pharmacy, meeting parents, teachers, bus drivers, salesmen, young muslims, people from all over the world, going to Uganda and having my world shaken from head to toes, finding myself. In the end, I can say I am in touch with myself and before coming, I was a thousand miles away.

Someone once told me that our life can be like a domino table, where you have your pieces dealt, you put them in perfect order and wait for your turn to make your move, but sometimes, sometimes we meet people, places, moments that represent that person who while walking trips on a corner of the table and  makes all of your "game" go down and messy and just different from how you had organised it. My domino board didn't get shake, it got smashed. I hope one day for all of you, your pieces will fall, and your game changes without realising it. That surprise is the best feeling in the world.

Now if you allow me, I'll tell you, have expectations, but when they get fulfilled or they don't, close your eyes and feel everything else that is going on around you, because every second you live, you are being blessed by the beauty of life. Don't waste it.

Phrase in a wall of the hostel where I spent two days in Lamu. What more could I say?

EmbraceSong:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=13uK6uRrhPk

"Doble Happiness"

Ever since I arrived to Africa, with my little notebooks for writing, different pens, my whole pencil case and my excitement I promised to myself this experience would be one to remember. I thought that i would have all the time in the world for writing down my feelings (thats here are around 756739 a day) and reading, but after a few days I realized, time makes absolutely no sense in Africa.
I cant stretch hard enough the time issue. You know how they say "time flies when you're having fun"? Here, that sentence has a completely different meaning. You wake up at 7 and all of the sudden you're hungry because its 10 in the night and almost every muscle in your body aches and desires to go to bed. That's what I like to call "the Kenyan Effect".

I am spending 9 weeks in Africa, and to this day, my countdown started. I have only 9 days to go, and today is the day I decided that better late than never, I would start my blog. However, the kenyan stories are going to have to wait for a couple of hours because my first post needs to be dedicated to the week I just lived in a place called Katiiti in Uganda.

I met a 22 year old colombian girl called Cristina Romero, who just graduated in Medellin as an environmental engineer, and realized that all the cronologycal events thats are supposed to be already written in everyone's life-book were over for her: primary school, highschool, university if possible... And then, the pages of the life book become white, now there's no line to follow that would lead you to a certain point. No, now you ARE in the point where there's no pattern to follow, now is up to you what do, now you are "an adult". She decided she would go for 6 months to Kenya to improve her english while growing as a person, and worked in a company for sometime, gathered the money, and we crossed our paths in the middle of heckted Nairobi. She was going to spend a month in Uganda, in a village 2 hours away from Kampala, with aUgandan family "builiding a library for the kids and planting endangered fruit trees for the community to eat and sell". That was it. That was all I needed. I auto-invited myself and three weeks later I arrived after a 15hour night bus to Kampala.

Please know that what you are about to read, comes from the deepest of my feelings, that thanks to this Ugandan family I was able to gett in touch with and experienced a life changing week, which will probably be the reaosn why this first post might not make that much sense, Im just pouring out a little from the inside.

I got picked up by the son of the family and creator of the project, 4th year medical student Charles Batte and we drove between deep conversation to Katiiti. We left the concrete road, and started driving through a sand road, passing by the most beautiful brick houses I have ever seen. Eventually reached his house where this "muzungu" (White person) was teaching around 15 children how to do origami under a tree. The family came out to greet me and between hugs and kisses I immedietly felt I was a part of it.

The Bidemu family had 8 children and adopted other 5, a mother and a father that worked their entire life to bring up their kids by the hand of God and solid values, ended up -from my point of view- doing everything perfect. Yes, perfect. That word that theoretically doesn't exist, "perfect". They accomplished it. Currently they all went to universities and at the age of 50 Madame Florence and Mister Basilio were able to retire to their home village (katiiti) where they wake up with sunrise, work all they long, and go to bed at around 11. I must say, Mme Florence taugh me the real meaning of "hardworking". No resting, no losing time, just work, but the difference between the work I knew and her work is very simple, this is HAPPY WORK.

My Ugandan mom Mme. Florence

Cristina and me woke up and went to the plantations wether to plant maize, harvest maize, harvest mushrooms or my personal favorite: cutting the dead leaves of the plantain trees. For me, I felt the tree was excited of getting cut, like the rose in the Little Prince, just waiting to show how beautiful she is, and all the things it can provide.
Morning went by between working and thinking, specially thinking. Thinking about the trees, the environment, the family, the values, the life. Life. Life in Uganda. Life in Venezuela. Life working. Life working happy.

By the time we realized it was 1pm and had to go to teach our students, who although were tecnically on holidays from school, were as eagered as possible to learn. They all came with theire notebooks, pencils and sat under our tree to listen to what this different creature were going to tell them that day, what song they were going to teach them and what homework they were going to send them. That tree has been the most beautiful educational center I have ever seen.
Most of them could not have a conversation in english and answered to everything "yes" (Can you imagine answering to everything yes? Being forever in the Yes Man movie. I see it as a reflection of their personality, they DO say yes to everything, and even if for us, that "everything" might be deprived of so many things, it's their everything, is just what they need, and yes, it is more than enough). We had a brilliant student called Betty, who spoke very good english and helped us with the classes and never got tired of translating if we needed. Betty is number 1 in her district, and if she continues this way, she will be a solid candidate for a government scholarship that she'd use to study medicine in the future, that's her dream. She also does Mats with leaves during the day and sunlight because the only house with electricity in the village was ours. 

Betty taugh me perseverence. The perseverence I recieved in school was a value that simply sounded like a very long word, almost no meaning. I can say for a fact that I met it's  meaning and got fascinated by it. We shall persevere.

I honestly can't find the words to describe how this kids were. I have been in Nairobi for almost 8 weeks now and this kids are completely different to the once I have been seeing since I arrived. All they wanted was to be with you, know about you, respect you, treat you, talk to you, and specially, learn from you. Learn about life, about the world, about why you have purple under your eyes or what are those strange hair in your arms. They wanted to learn. They wanted to grow. To be able to have been the one that explained that the "purple under the eyes" is not dirt but "eye bags" and that we get it when we are tired or had not enough sleep makes my strange hair in the arms get goose-bumps.
They eat what they grow, learn with what they have, live with sunlight, sleep with the moon. As simple as that. Im sure none of  who is reading this, could share that simplicity. I couldn't. Only the priviledged -from my point of view- can.

The idea of the library, is to give them a place where they can meet knowledge in its most basic forms. It is going to have reading books, text books, activity book, drawings and who knows, maybe one day even Internet. All I know is that that library will be there for a long time and that maybe Betty's children will look at the drawing of Kampala we did in the walls and one day go to the city and remember the drawing and say "Waoh, this looks like the library".
Inspired by my school El Peñón I was eagered to to draw the alphabet exactly the way I had it in every single classroom when I was little learning the song we all know that at a certain point is no longer letters but "elemenopi (L-M-N-O-P)", plus the numbers and their names. For some time I thought it was silly and too simple until the kids went in when it was only in pencil and started singing the song, making mistakes singing it and starting again "A-B-C-D". My heart got warm and knew it was worth it.

We also got the chance to create a wall of hands, painting them in colors and putting them around the window, for them to always remember that everything we desire, we can built it with out own two hands. I could not be prouder of having my hands in that wall.

By the time I got out of the library because we didnt have any more sunlight I said to myself out loud "Im going to die of happiness", and Mr. Bidemu misunderstood and said "Doble happiness? What does that mean? that you are so happy, that with 'one happiness' is not enough?" A mistake that describes everything. Doble happiness.

For now I gave you a glimpse of how only 8 days can change a persons life. Uganda did. The Bidemu family did. The children did.


All I know today is, work hard, work happy. Doble happy.


EmbraceSong:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gKgEBBUI6U4