Simon's Nairobi Diary - Archive 9

15 November 2005 8:16pm

Massive full moon tonight. Big, like 'Joe versus the volcano' big. It hurts the eyes to look at it, and afterward you get that grey spot on the inside of the eyelids.

One large difference between myself and many of the Africans is the walk. Their walk is very straight and proud, both a straight back and a lifted chin, almost regal (there is a sociocultural analysis there, but I'm not going to touch it). I was coming back on the 45 minute walk from the town, carrying a bag of food. I must have been thinking or fazed out or something, because I wasn't aware of the children following me until the laughing began. The giggling started and I did a half-circle and saw this girl was walking directly behind me, much to her friends' hilarity, and she was doing this bent over loping gait. I could have stopped her and explained how my 'mwili mrefu' (tall body) is from my parents and my hunched frame is from Starcraft, but it wouldn't have done much good. I just laughed back at them, said "hapana" (no!), and tried regal-walking the rest of the way back to the compound.

14 November 2005 7:27pm

Advisory groups today, like every monday. Sitting with the rest of the fellas in my major and talking about what is being enjoyed and what is being endured. Near the end we closed with prayer. "Prayer requests," Dr. Frederik asked? "My village has had many attacks throughout this week," Bishop answered. "Bandits have burned over 300 houses, robbed and killed many people I have grown up with. They have stolen some women and children and the village is too far away for the police to keep it protected." His eyes stayed lowered. "We'll pray for your village," Dr. Frederik replied softly. "Anybody else?"

I was going to mention my upcoming test, but Greek participle endings had lost their importance. We prayed for the village.

11 November 2005 8:25pm

Waking up today was to heavy rain, furthur assisted with the morning coffee poured thick as muffin batter. I stood in the middle of my room, downed a gelatinish mouthful, and just shouted.

Rain continued all day, hard and pronounced. The red dusty paths were transformed to terracotta. Drips through my ceiling were collected in empty juice jugs and jars, with the water occaisionally deposited into my plant. The rhythm of rain on the roof and into the recepticles created a welcoming white noise, slowing me like a waltz. Rain all day and I don't mind.

Eventually the rain hampered the generators. My friends and I study biblical interpretation in the library, and everybody has brought a flashlight.

10 November 2005 7:58pm

Walking back to my room around 10:30pm last night, I noticed the guard by the chapel was carrying a massive club. I stopped and inquired why he was carrying this huge hunk of wood, with its protruding metal spike at the heavy end. His answer, "There is a cat, a leopard." He told me I should not worry. "It will not attack if you do not offend it," he said casually. I quickly thanked him and began walking as unoffensively as I knew how, frantically eyeing the rooftops, trees, and everything. I completed the once short now long trip back to my building, more a movement of lips than legs. Throwing the padlock on the door, I peered out through the bars for a couple minutes. "Where am I," I muttered? I turned, entered my room, smashed some roaches on the wall, and fell hard asleep.

9 November 2005 5:18pm

Autumn is my favorite season. The botanical world in its death throes, the green having evacuated the cell walls, leaves the true colors behind. Those fall colors had been there all along, just blotted out by chlorophyl - a mechanism required for the plant's survival . And how this speaks to who I might be if I existed on an earth where my struggle to make it wouldn't bleach out my true character. Heaven, containing no death, needs no upkeep. It exists where chlorophyl is useless, similiarly nullifying the 8-5 workday so often to blame for the reduction of our relationships to mediocrity.

In heaven, all the trees look like its autumn,

but fall is a bit different this November.

8 November 2005 8:00pm

Cyrus grew up with his dad being a soldier. He was talking about how each station that the father rotated through had a wife, and so after his military life he settled down in a nice house with his four wives. Cyrus spent some time talking about the difficulty in growing up in a polygamous house, how he has sixteen brothers and sisters. He talked about the one time he asked his mother why she married a guy who already was married. She was too pained to answer.

After Cyrus's testimony, the group of us were walking out of chapel, and John slapped me on the back, grinned, and said, "Simon, you must find a wife here in Kenya. The women here are very submissive." Fortunetly, I haven't lately been feeling very wild at heart.