Many Words

I am now back in Luanda. My first lesson on the journey here was how to be flexible. This can be taken literally in learning to squish into a matatu. Picture a minivan for a family of five. Now picture that same space filled with twenty adults, two kids, and a baby. My concept of personal space has been transformed into that of a sardine. The funny thing is that after a while, I stopped noticing and just enjoyed the ride. On the matatu from Kisumu to the ferry that would take me across Lake Victoria, I sat next to an engineering student who lives near Mbita. He is starting an online project to connect schools around the world. He taught me a lot about education here and wants to volunteer with Engineers Without Borders when we develop the well here next month.

It never ceases to amaze and shock me that I can feel like a young child all over again every time I live someplace new. Well, maybe this is part of the reason I keep trying to live in new places. One of the more difficult and frustrating reasons I feel like a young child is that I do not understand how to live and what to do to fit in. Do you ever remember being the only child at an adult dinner party? You are there, but not quite in the conversation. Your parents have to help you get a plate of food and none of it is what you are used to eating at home. You sort of feel like a distant observer even though you say hi to people. You also have to rely on others to get around. That is kind of the feeling that I have when I am in a new place that is very different from what I am used to. When I was with the Engineers Without Borders team last summer it was different because it was like there were a group of us clueless kids.

There are fun aspects to feeling like a young child though. First, children can sense that I relate to them. It is always the children who seem to bring me into their culture first. They don’t seem to care that I am helpless and are just as curious about me as I am of everyone and everything new and different. Like last summer, Stephan has taken me under his wing. He shows me all of the shortcuts through the corn fields and teaches me how to speak Luo. He says knowing a language is how you learn to know the people. Stephan is a very wise twelve-year-old. He has already picked up English from getting to know every visitor from the US and UK. The next language he hopes to learn is French. So, we walk around naming things and actions in Luo and French. I am learning many words from him and I hope that in time I will learn more about the people here.