i’m no expert

After a year and a half of missing Kenya more than I have missed anything in my life, I am back in this wonderful place.  I hardly have words for the joy I feel to be back amidst my Kenyan family and friends and to be in this country which I love.

This morning, after only sleeping 14 hours in the last 4 days, I chose to woke up at 6:00 in the morning to simply sit outside because peacefully taking in, enjoying and just being in Kenya is so much more refreshing than sleep.

Though it is cliché (which I am known to be), now that I am back in Kenya it feels as if I never left.  That is not to say that time has stood still here, just waiting for me to return – students have moved ahead in school, people have died and people have been born, the roads have improved greatly.  But I have slipped back into life in Kenya in such a seamlessness that proves the warmth of Kenya’s embrace and my comfort in accepting its arms.   I have slipped into calling myself “Cahhh-lie” because “Callie’s” doesn’t come around often in rural Western Kenya.  I have slipped into shaking hands, to drinking strong ginger soda, to silently bonding with children during church, to walking on muddy roads, to the familiar mixture of guilt and humility when being served extravagance.   I have slipped into eating avocados with sugar, into appreciating the simple smell of the air in this beautiful place, into being awed and inspired by the secondary students which the Umoja Project supports.

In doing so, I realize that this is not just “life in Kenya” but my life in Kenya. This is not because I can find my way around Kisumu, or have a specific way to make my chai, or can give greetings in Luo and Kiswahili.  It is because I have a community here which continues to grow and strengthen daily.  I have friends, I have family, I have mentors and I have teachers and it is through them that my life here continues to form.

That being said, I have found it challenging to be the “expert” on Kenya, having traveled and lived here before and being the Umoja Project director’s daughter.  The past two days I have been with the Duke Divinity School interns and my friend Mariah Hennen, seeing Kisumu city, going to church, meeting students, and learning about Umoja.  Though the Umoja Project staff led this orientation, I have often been looked to for answering questions and providing knowledge about the Project, the region, and Kenya in general.  While I don’t mind answering the questions I can answer and am happy to share my experiences in Kenya which can lend advice, I find it difficult to be put in a teaching role, when I strive every minute in Kenya to be a learner.

This is not a complaint against those who ask me questions because I am happy to share my experiences and do my best to ensure that they too can learn in Kenya.  But it is a complaint against those who refer to me as some sort of expert on Chulaimbo or Kenya or Africa because that is entirely incorrect and I’ve found that I react pretty strongly against that association.  As I’ve been thinking about this, in the midst of my Kenyan community,  I see that I can tell my stories from Kenya and from my close involvement with the Umoja Project to help others learn, but I can never let that hinder by own identity as a learner.

In the past two days, I have realized that I can never take myself or let other take me out of that identity because, just as in the year and a half that I have been away from Kenya, things are always changing, growing, and developing and there is always more to learn.

And so tomorrow I set off to the home where Mariah and I will be living for 6 weeks to be an eager learner who is anything but an expert.