Winding down :(

One of my Form 3's woke up from a little snooze on his desk after finishing an exam early, got my attention, and said (in Signed Exact English so there was no mistaking it) "I will never forget you." Ugh. Way to tug at my heart strings, Emmanuel.

When I first got to school here and for the first few months of teaching these kids I was in what some might call the "honeymoon phase." I was so entranced by my kids' kindness and respect for everyone (even people who seemed not to deserve it, in my eyes), and their general unfailing happiness, that I wasn't really able to look past it and see their human sides. I've had just about two years with them now and I've gotten over the honeymoon phase, because I've spent SO much time with them and therefore know them SO well. Knowing them this well has made it feel like that stage after the honeymoon, when you really get down to business. All of those things from the beginning still ring true to this day, but I've had a chance to see them more clearly as people, instead of just part of these exotic two years in Africa. They've made me way too angry at points, but they have also been the ones who have cheered me up when I've felt like all I wanted to do is gauge someone's eye out. So in a sense it's like I love them even more now. Though it's hard to explain how I feel about my kids here, because it seems like more than just love. It's sort of a dependence/friendship type thing too. And the more I try to explain it, the cheesier it sounds. Humph.

That being said, school is closing now, because we don't really have enough food for the kids to stay any longer. After a lot of excitement and drama last week that I really shouldn't write about on the internet (ask me if you don't already know and want to) the kids finally started their exams and just finished yesterday. That means starting now-ish I'm all alone again, and have to rely solely on my social life to keep me busy. Closing school is always a small relief, but more of a let-down for me, because I miss those darn kids so much. Fortunately though, it seems like there will be a lot of visitors this August, which is good, because it will keep things moving in Kilifi.

This month into the middle of August is also Ramadhan, which means my Muslim kids are fasting. The ratio of Muslims to Christians at school is about 60/40, and during Ramadhan the Muslims can't eat while the sun is up. This makes it really tough for them to take exams, because their stomachs are rumbling at them all day long. Poor kids. And since they're not allowed to eat with the rest of the school, they cook their own food for after dark, which I got to taste some of on Saturday for movie night. It was actually pretty delicious. Still not sure if it's worth not eating all day, but it's their choice, right? Mom always said I was a good eater, anyways. I'm not too keen on the fasting.

Anywho, time here IS winding down, whether I like it or not. We've been getting emails from Nairobi about our Close Of Service conference and doctors appointments and all this other crap we have to do before finishing Peace Corps. I can't believe it's almost over. My life in Kilifi has become so much more than just the "Peace Corps" part. It's become my life in so many wonderful ways, and the thought of having to say goodbye to everyone here is not something I like. I'll be back to Kilifi next fall at the very latest for a wedding and a lot of catch up with my friends here, so saying goodbye to them won't be so bad. Saying goodbye to my kids, however, will probably be the hardest thing I've ever done. When I left for Peace Corps, and said "see you in a few years!" to friends and family stateside, it obviously wasn't easy. But I knew I'd see all those people again. My kids however, are not as easy to contact, or get in touch with, since most of them don't have phones or parents that know English, or email accounts or skype. Some of them do have phones though, and I'll definitely be trying to find them as soon as I get back.

Another thing about these kids is that working with them has made me truly fall in love with the Deaf community and Deaf culture. When I'm not using my hands to talk, something feels out of place and not right. So maybe when I get back stateside I'll try to do something similar there. I've been so immersed in Kenyan Deaf culture, however, that I feel like I really don't know much at all about American Deaf culture. Although some other deaf Peace Corps Volunteers have told me there are some parallels between the two so maybe I know a little more than I think.

Whatever the case may be about Deaf cultures in different countries, and whether or not I have/will fit in to any of them, it still remains that I have no idea what I want to do when I get home. Probably get right back on the plane and come back to Kilifi. Ugh.

Well here's some shots from the end of the term. Feel free to check out the good 'ol FB as well. 

Can you tell how much I like grading tests? It's not much...

EXCEPT for when I get messages inside them like this one:

Drinks at Makuti Villas means chalk time for Kelvin

My least favorite school meal - Githeri with soya beans. Bleh.

Lucy and Lilian, being themselves.

Fasting during Ramadhan means making chapatis for after dark :)

Why are you both looking so grumpy?

This is Gona telling me my hair has gotten really long.

Emmanuel doing a problem on the board for everyone.

Catherine looks like she's trying to ward off the devil

but she's actually just making the plus sign.

Best view ever: standing at school watching the kiddos get dinner.

Okie doke. Hugs to everyone!

~ Shub out :)

Still just a short little white girl.

Happy belated birthday America! I didn't even realize it was the 4th of July this week until my Form 3's started yelling at me about not writing the date on the board. MAN does time fly.

So it IS July, and this week I'm on duty. Before, I was happy to be on duty, using it as the one week I get to spend all the time I want with my kids, without feeling like I shouldn't be there. Unfortunately it's not turned into the most pleasant thing anymore. And even more unfortunate - it's the kids themselves who make it hard for me sometimes! I started preparing two weeks ago, asking my kids to PLEASE behave well for the week I'm on duty. Everyone of course politely agreed and promised that everything would be peaceful. Boy were they wrong. Monday morning began with hearing that six of the boys left school around 10pm the night before to go watch a football game in the village. Now I know we don't have a TV at school, but I'm doing the best I can with movie night. I tried to make them feel really guilty by asking them if everything I do for them is not enough. Not sure if that worked though. They were punished with slashing grass, which is always the punishment given here, no matter what the offense, and I had a long talk with them about sucking it up till they get home from school on break, or until they're done with Form 4 entirely. Then they are on their own and can make their own rules. For now they need to remember they're in boarding school and have other people responsible for them instead of just themselves. Oh the wonders of the teen years!

That incident, however, was only the tip of the iceberg this week. Last night a full on throwing-punches, head lock, "I'm gonna kill you" brawl broke out between two of my boys because one of them cut in line for food. I don't blame them for getting a little angry about something like that, because I know how hungry they are and how much a little more ugali can mean. But lord was I fuming when they started trying to kill each other over it. Again, I call them 'my kids' but it was two of my largest boys who were fighting, so when I realized it wasn't just playing around like it usually is, I had to get some of the other boys to help me separate the two. Thank goodness I have a lot of boys who are big and burly otherwise I would have gotten beaten up as well. I was very angry that this went down, and so I punished them accordingly today, and also told them they are not allowed to watch the movie on Saturday. I know teenage boys like to fight and stuff, but come on guys, not in your school uniform at dinner time. Ugh.

On a cheerier note, I had a good laugh with my Form 3's last week. Kenyans have this thing where they think all white people look alike. Now granted when I first got to school and met my kids, they all had the same uniform, the same haircut, and they were all black! I remember thinking there is no way in hell I would remember all these kids - plus considering the fact that each one has a sign name along with their actual name. Fine, ok, I understood it then. But my kids have now been staring at me in the front of their classroom for a year and a half, which should mean at least something right? So here was the question I posed - There is a line of white people, Sarah included, all girls, all about my height, but very clearly different people, standing in the front of the classroom. Can you pick out Sarah from the line? A resounding "No way" was what I saw throughout the classroom. Then in response to the look of disappointment on my face a lot of them amended their answers. They told me, well if everyone in line started signing, they would obviously be able to figure out which one Sarah is. Some of them said they would be able to pick me out because of my ears, others told me as long as they were allowed to check out everyone's pinkie toes, they could find Sarah in a heartbeat. Whatever the case, it was hilarious to realize after all this time I still look like all the rest of the white people in the world to them. And that being said, I can't say the same for myself. After a year and a half with these kids, they all look SO different to me. I could tell them apart a mile away, just by the way they walk. It's a nice feeling from my end at least.

Going along with funny things my kids say, and in typical Form 4 fashion, almost an entire math lesson was missed last week because they all couldn't stop laughing at me. What were they laughing at, you ask? Well I, being not particularly the tallest of people (5'2" on a good day), usually have to stand on my tiptoes when I write on the chalkboard. Hilarious, right? It was literally two seconds after I turned around to start writing the lesson on the board that I here the giggles begin. And as soon as I turn around, I know exactly who it was that started it. Gona couldn't hold himself together he was chuckling so hard, so he sort of exploded instead. What they were really laughing at was the fact that even though I'm standing on my tiptoes, I still can only manage to reach half way up the board. Needless to say it was a pretty laughter-filled morning. And thanks a bunch kids, for always making me feel so good about myself. Hmpf.

Went to church with the kiddos again a few weeks ago. As always, church in Kenya takes all day. We get there around 9 am, sit and study Bible verses for and hour or so (oh the joy), and usually begin the actual service around 10 or 11. Songs and preaching and testimonials continue till 1 or 2 pm, when they finally serve us lunch, only to be followed up afterward by more church! Whew. We left around 4, thankfully in plenty of time to be back for movie night. That's enough church to last me for a while, right? Side note: The pictures are up in FB if you fancy a gander.

Nothing really exciting has been going on recently, so the following pictures are just of everyday crap. Check out Facebook for the reel I've taken so far this term.

Emmanuel is on the right, eating his late afternoon ugali, and on the left is movie night!

Typical afternoon football game.

Bad kittens sleeping on TOP of the mosquito net!

Tea time!

The girls' dorm is going up fast..

Madam Mary, our new cook, making dinner

Meals at school: Left is uji (porridge) which is all they get for breakfast, and the right is ugali and mchicha (sort of like spinach) which is all they get for dinner. Ugali is super delicious though. No seriously.

Church day

My grungy kitchen, made slightly more attractive with the pakas.

One of these is my morning coffee, and one is water from my tap.

Can you guess which is which?

Dinner time.

And my walk home after dinner.. always into a beautiful sunset.

Hope everything is good back stateside.

Cheers and happy July!

~ Shub :)

Thanks for makin' me ugly, Kenya.

Last night was movie night and I showed Pirates of the Caribbean 3. They loved it. But before the movie I showed all my kids some Sarah Hubbard baby pictures. I had asked my mom to send me some so I could show them what baby Sarah looked like, so she scanned them and emailed them to me. So on the big screen last night I enlarged all the pictures I had received and asked the kids if they knew who it was. After a little bit of thinking, because why would Sarah be showing pictures of some random white kid they've never met before, they finally figured out it was me. Hilarity ensued.

But here's the kicker - towards the end of the reel was a non-baby picture of me and Morgan, from a wedding in 2010, the summer before I left for Peace Corps. Obviously since it was in America, and a wedding, I looked kinda pretty (if I do say so myself). I had makeup on (duh) and had straightened my hair (duh). When this picture went up on the big screen the kids said "Well I definitely don't know who that white boy on the right is, but who is the girl on the left?" They were literally stumped. I sat there for what seemed like ten minutes shocked and appalled that Kenya has actually made me so ugly that my own kids can't even recognize me before Peace Corps. Even with me looking them straight in the eye they still couldn't figure it out. So I had to tell them, "No no. That's Sarah. I promise. It's me." The shock and awe then transferred to them, which was followed by a barrage of questions about why I was so beautiful in that picture and not in real life.

Here's a conversation from today between myself and one of my Form 4's that obviously stemmed from last night's Shubbard baby reel:

Sarah: "Did you really think that was someone else besides me in that picture? You didn't see any resemblance at all?"
Gona: "You just looked so pretty. We've never seen you like that. Why don't you ever get pretty in Kenya?"
Sarah: "Because it's too much work and I don't have tons of other gorgeous mzungus around that make me feel like I HAVE to put on makeup." (Although there are a few)
Gona: "Maybe tomorrow you can become beautiful for school. Just one day ok?"
Sarah: "Not gonna happen."
Gona: "How did you hair get like that?"
Sarah: "It's called a straightener and it gets really hot." Commence long explanation of American hair style devices)
Gona: "Then maybe just do that tomorrow ok?"
Sarah: "No can do. Didn't even bring it with me to Kenya."
(Cue immense disappointment on Gona's face.)
Sarah: "You guys are just going to have to live with me like this. I know it's hard, but you're strong. You'll tough it out."
(Commence Gona now giggling like a crazy person.)
Gona: "Sarah, why do some mzungus have REALLY blonde hair? Like the sun? Why?"
Sarah: "I dunno Gona. Why are you black like the night?"
Gona: "Cuz God made me this way,"
Sarah: "Are you sure? Are you sure you didn't just smear a lot of dirt all over yourself?"
Gona: "Yeah, I'm sure. But why are mzungus SO white?"
Sarah: "Who knows Gona. Maybe you're so black because I've been feeding you guys too much chocolate this past year and half. Have you been eating a lot of chocolate today?"
Gona: "NO. Have YOU been eating a lot of RICE??"

Needless to say it was a hilarious conversation, as most of my conversations with my kids are.

Ok, test-grading time!

<3

~ Shub :)