It gets real exciting.
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Friday, March 12, 2010
Tea Party Fashion Show
Birthday parties are always fun, and everyone has their own list of the top ones they've had or been invited to. My personal favorite birthday parties would probably be my bicycle parade party when I was 5 or something, and my 23rd which I celebrated both in Napa with my biological and adoptive family (the Howards) and here in Korr. The tops in terms of guest status were my sister Amanda's "Aladdin" party, when Mom made Aladdin's palace out of old cardboard refrigerator boxes, Tanya Garber's "Pocahontas" party, when we swam in the off-limits Memorial Park duck pond, and any party where there's double chocolate cake with raspberry filling.
But Rendilleland can host some pretty good birthday parties too.
Amina threw a birthday party for her son Shammy, one of our Form 2 students, at her house during tea time on Friday afternoon. He was turning 24. Weird.
This is still something I have a little bit of trouble with; the fact that your students may be older than you and very well may know more about life, and you just happen to know more about creative writing techniques and verb tenses. Concerning Shammy, though, I just gave him a disciplinary yellow card in class today, and he's a full year older than me. I guess that is only further proof of what women have known at least since the turn of the 20th century: a man's age does not necessarily indicate maturity. Shammy is very nice, however, and his mother is the most lovable Ingo and language teacher, so it's a pleasure to spend time with both of them.
To the consternation of the Form 1 students, only Form 2s were invited, which was actually quite nice as it allowed us to more enjoy the intimate company. Amina completely outdid herself with a real birthday cake, complete with candles from our house, popcorn, maandazis (the African equivalent of a beignet) the size our your face, and her famous chai seasoned with cloves.
Needless to say, we didn't need dinner that night. The best part of the party wasn't the food, though, but just the time to goof off with the students. We discussed with the Form 2 ladies, Angeline, Lucy, and Emily who was the most "sassy" and determined that Angeline came in first place, the student equivalent of Alicia, Lucy came in second, my equal in sassafrass, leaving Emily to be paired with Jamie because, "Mme. Jamie never smiles." This is a categorically untrue statement, but it is fair to say that Jamie is a more serious and 'in control' in the classroom; she did her student teaching in the inner city.
Over in the guest hut, which literally has the words "Girls' Hostel: 2008" printed into the cement outside, there was a dance party going on. Alicia accidentally walked on as Abduhlai as he had his shirt unbuttoned all the way to combat the sweat he'd worked up from dancing, which was embarrassing for all involved.
As I was walking around with my second cup of chai, somebody asked for me to take a "single" of them. What does this mean? This means N*SYNC boy-band poses set to the backdrop of a radio blaring Kenyan hip-hop and a shoving/pushing line of boys behind me and my camera.
Some of the results are as follows: I think you would agree, a birthday party isn't a party unless everyone gets to do an impersonation of Justin Timberlake.
(To the above right is Gabe, one of my favs. At the left top, is Terry; that's about as crazy 
as I've seen this boy get.Below him is John B. who looks like a N.Z. Maori warrior. Below John is Musa whose smile is illusive but precious. And finally, Lenarendille, bottom right, is the head boy and potentially one of the coolest guys at T.S.S. )
But Rendilleland can host some pretty good birthday parties too.
Amina threw a birthday party for her son Shammy, one of our Form 2 students, at her house during tea time on Friday afternoon. He was turning 24. Weird.
This is still something I have a little bit of trouble with; the fact that your students may be older than you and very well may know more about life, and you just happen to know more about creative writing techniques and verb tenses. Concerning Shammy, though, I just gave him a disciplinary yellow card in class today, and he's a full year older than me. I guess that is only further proof of what women have known at least since the turn of the 20th century: a man's age does not necessarily indicate maturity. Shammy is very nice, however, and his mother is the most lovable Ingo and language teacher, so it's a pleasure to spend time with both of them.
To the consternation of the Form 1 students, only Form 2s were invited, which was actually quite nice as it allowed us to more enjoy the intimate company. Amina completely outdid herself with a real birthday cake, complete with candles from our house, popcorn, maandazis (the African equivalent of a beignet) the size our your face, and her famous chai seasoned with cloves.
Needless to say, we didn't need dinner that night. The best part of the party wasn't the food, though, but just the time to goof off with the students. We discussed with the Form 2 ladies, Angeline, Lucy, and Emily who was the most "sassy" and determined that Angeline came in first place, the student equivalent of Alicia, Lucy came in second, my equal in sassafrass, leaving Emily to be paired with Jamie because, "Mme. Jamie never smiles." This is a categorically untrue statement, but it is fair to say that Jamie is a more serious and 'in control' in the classroom; she did her student teaching in the inner city.
Over in the guest hut, which literally has the words "Girls' Hostel: 2008" printed into the cement outside, there was a dance party going on. Alicia accidentally walked on as Abduhlai as he had his shirt unbuttoned all the way to combat the sweat he'd worked up from dancing, which was embarrassing for all involved.
As I was walking around with my second cup of chai, somebody asked for me to take a "single" of them. What does this mean? This means N*SYNC boy-band poses set to the backdrop of a radio blaring Kenyan hip-hop and a shoving/pushing line of boys behind me and my camera.Some of the results are as follows: I think you would agree, a birthday party isn't a party unless everyone gets to do an impersonation of Justin Timberlake.
(To the above right is Gabe, one of my favs. At the left top, is Terry; that's about as crazy 
as I've seen this boy get.Below him is John B. who looks like a N.Z. Maori warrior. Below John is Musa whose smile is illusive but precious. And finally, Lenarendille, bottom right, is the head boy and potentially one of the coolest guys at T.S.S. )
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Popped in the Mouth
All I wanted to do was play a little soccer with my girls. We had decided, like, 4 days before that we wanted a T.S.S. Lady's Football Team, but with all the excitement of the Midterm, we just never had time to practice. No matter; when T.P.S. (Tirrim Primary School) came over and requested a match, we said yes. Everyone dug out some sort of trousers, I put on running shoes (after a disastrous stubbed toe from when I played with the boys barefoot), and we ran out onto the field.
The first half was unbearable. No one stuck to their positions, and I was yelling either, "Stand in FRONT of the blue players!" or "Go after the ball!" 2-0, them.
Whatever, we've never practiced. I'll give grace.
What I didn't count on was my overly competitive nature kicking in when I saw we were getting walked all over. All of a sudden I had knocked a primary girl over, and was going up for headers. I admit I was getting a little... testy.
So it serves me right, that as I went up for another header, and at that same moment, some little yahoo jumped for the ball as well, but being 2 feet shorter than me, hit my face instead. I came running off the field, I admit, after only half jokingly asking the ref. to give her a red card. Blood was running all over my teeth and poor beige pants, and I ran for the wash bucket. Alicia graciously gave me her washcloth, and we called over the project's truck to drive me home.
By the time I walked in the house I was like "A skinny little stick figure with poofy lips." (That quote is for you, Dad.) I used up all two pieces of ice in the freezer and am still not able to put anything in my mouth without it kind of falling out a little bit.
The first half was unbearable. No one stuck to their positions, and I was yelling either, "Stand in FRONT of the blue players!" or "Go after the ball!" 2-0, them.
Whatever, we've never practiced. I'll give grace.
What I didn't count on was my overly competitive nature kicking in when I saw we were getting walked all over. All of a sudden I had knocked a primary girl over, and was going up for headers. I admit I was getting a little... testy.
So it serves me right, that as I went up for another header, and at that same moment, some little yahoo jumped for the ball as well, but being 2 feet shorter than me, hit my face instead. I came running off the field, I admit, after only half jokingly asking the ref. to give her a red card. Blood was running all over my teeth and poor beige pants, and I ran for the wash bucket. Alicia graciously gave me her washcloth, and we called over the project's truck to drive me home.
By the time I walked in the house I was like "A skinny little stick figure with poofy lips." (That quote is for you, Dad.) I used up all two pieces of ice in the freezer and am still not able to put anything in my mouth without it kind of falling out a little bit.
Monday, March 1, 2010
Herr Kento
Really it all started as a joke when Nick Swanepoel suggested that my name should be "Herr Kento" ("Rain Bringer") as it was when I first arrived that those big storms came rolling through, drowning all our desert hardened skins and sensibilities.
And it's happening again. We've had huge thunder and rain storms the past few days. Friday night was so bad it woke all of us up and immediately sent us running outside to bring Abaya in out of the rain so the poor man didn't drown. And then again on Saturday night we had a bit of a sprinkle and the dirt smelled all lovely and fresh in the morning.
Sunday was when the joke about my name became reality, as at 8 am I looked at Alicia and said, "I would love it to rain during the daytime so we could actually enjoy it." Sitting in church at 9:30 am, listening to an appropriately timed sermon on Revelations, we could hear thunder off by the mountains and see massive thunder clouds rolling towards us. Whoa. It's like that girl from X-Men who can control the weather with her mind.
While we were sitting at Sunday lunch (A.K.A. "Weekly Thanksgiving Feast"), rain started pelting the house. We quickly decided it was therefore going to be a cozy movie day, threw the generator in the back of the truck, drove it up to our house, and came in sopping wet. And did we ever enjoy our day! Sweatpants, baked goods, a movie! I only use my powers for good.
Later in the evening, Ruth, Alicia, and I took a walk to go see the lugga flowing. We found our students Zaki and Elias playing in the water, and continued on a bit of a creek walk with them. It was so nice to have my skirt-hem soggy and muddy, and to still have rain and cool breezes floating around in the air.
As a joke, Alicia told me to ask for some more rain for the next day, so I asked nicely once, and when nothing happened immediately I yelled, "I want my RRAAAIINNNN!!!!" and, no joke, at that instant a huge lightning bolt flashed across the sky.(This is Tigger, the Swanepoel's dog, loving playing in the lugga on our walk)
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