Learning to Live Dependently

Praise the Lord, I have arrived!!  Today marks day number six in Nairobi, Kenya and day number five in Kibera, the largest slum (more commonly called “informal settlement” here) of the country.  While there were a few bumps to get over during my flights and initial arrival at the airport, everything has gone very smoothly and I was placed with a host family on my second day here.

My host family is absolutely wonderful.  I am living with the Ouma family in Ayany, a neighborhood just within the edges of Kibera.  In all, the family counts nine members, two of which mostly live outside of the home.  Living there now are Mama Agi, Baba Francis, Sister Agi, Sister Masi and her son Fadili, Sister Enid, and Cousin Maureen.  Sister Forsi and Brother Christopher are outside the home, Sister Forsi working as cabin crew for an airline and Brother Christopher living in another neighborhood nearby.  In adding me to their household, all of the girls in the house moved into a single bedroom, allowing me to have a space of my own.  Their home is a very comfortable size, with a small mud courtyard for their many containers of water and occasional grilling, a small kitchen, a room for Mama Agi and Baba Francis, a room for the girls, a sitting room, a small bathing room and toilet room, my bedroom, and a small dining area. I have quickly grown to feel comfortable in their home and I am extremely grateful for a space of my own to work on my assignments and to reflect at the end of the day.

With only having spent six days here in Kibera, I have quickly learned that practically all of my independence that I have been taught and that I have cultivated over my 22 years of life has been stripped away.  Here, I feel comparable to the two-year old child in my host home – I can just barely walk on my own, I am just starting to form words, and I am learning how to perform basic daily tasks on my own.  My family acts as my parents did for me at that age, teaching me new words every day, being patient with me when I ask how to do seemingly simple tasks, and often helping me to perform these tasks in spite of teaching me.  Without them, I am sure that I would be struggling to live at an even basic level.  For me, this is a very new, and sometimes uncomfortable, situation.  I often feel guilty for making more work for them, as I very often don’t understand what is needed or how to do things.  I often feel frustrated that I can’t communicate with them in their native language and force them to use English, even when speaking with one another so that the conversation can be mutually understood.  And, I often feel useless, and in a sense spoiled, with how much they provide and take care of me.  But today, I realize that I am actually learning a very beautiful thing – I am learning how to live dependently.

In our American culture, we stress the importance of independence.  It is the reason our country was formed, to gain independence from Great Britain, to freely worship and express our ideas, opinions, and desires; to provide others with freedom and independence from their own struggles with restriction and authority.  It is essential, in our day and age, to demonstrate our independence by graduating from college, finding a place to live on our own, obtaining a good-paying job, purchasing a car, and traveling the world on our own.  There are many wonderful things that we can gain from independent living, such as an understanding to do many necessary tasks on our own, learning new information outside of our home and comfort zone, and creating brand new experiences and worldviews.  But there are plenty of things that we miss as well.  We miss the beauty of deep and lasting family connections in close vicinities.  We lose the love and security of knowing that someone else is there to provide and take care of you when life becomes difficult.  And we lose the incredible understanding that life can be richer and fuller when shared, when lived, with others.  As my dependence on independence is taken from me, my appreciation and understanding of living in a state of dependency with others is heightened and strengthened.

To answer some questions a few of you might have for me right now, I will try to give you a picture of daily life here, in Ayany.  Each day, the family wakes up at around 8am, takes a bucket bath, and enjoys a breakfast of bread, bananas, and Kenyan chai.  From here, those who have school or work leave the home, while some stay home to take care of the 1.5 year old Fadili and Baba Ouma, who has been blind for 19 years.  Dishes are washed, the home is cleaned as needed, and at around noon, afternoon tea, consisting of more bread and chai, is served.  Lunch is then prepared and served around 2pm, usually being ugali (a Kenyan staple food made of corn flour and boiling water used as a vehicle for stew and cooked vegetables).  Tea time comes again around 5-6pm and dinner is not served until 10pm, usually consisting of ugali or a rice and vegetable dish.  Most evenings are marked by watching an international soap dubbed in English and watching little Fadili dance to some music.  Everyone is in bed by midnight, and the next morning everything is repeated.

The family I am living with has been so kind and generous to me, making me feel at home in their home, showing me how to bathe properly, and teaching me many words in Swahili.  The Nairobi Coordinator, Joshua along with Josephine, who is in charge of the host family arrangements, have been wonderful teachers on how to use the local transportation called matatus (mini vans transformed into public transportation or buses), obtain Kenyan phones, internet, and arranging for our Swahili school here in Nairobi.  While I have had some moments of nervousness and just a few pangs of homesickness, I have felt extremely welcomed and taken care of since arriving.  I am truly excited about the things to come during my time here.

Pole pole, nina jifunza! (Slowly, I am learning!)