Experience

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I have come a continent away. I have stood at the border of Kenya and Uganda. I have walked, cried, and laughed in the slums of Nairobi. I have ran through the rains in the mountains of Kisumu, over red soils. I have gotten lost more times that I can count, been frustrated more than I could have imagined, been the most uncomfortable I have ever been. I've swam in the Nile, snorkeled in the Indian Ocean, climbed into a speeding matatu, jumped off of a crashing bodaboda. I have been yelled at, hasseled, misunderstood, mistaken, judged, stereotyped. I have been invited over for dinner by a woman who couldn't afford to put shoes on her feet and school uniforms on her children. I've been welcomed with open arms and hugs from strangers. I've been listened to and talked to with kind words. I've stood in front of classes with over 60something students and have learned more than I ever thought possible. I was taught. Each child with a story I will never have to experience and I'm not sure I could endure. I will never have to suffer alongside them. I've walked past naked, sick, dying. I've been reminded of how lucky my passport makes me, the secret advantages of my ethnicity, the comforts of a third world country. My skin color. I forget the color of my skin, I am constantly reminded. I've gone one month without a shower, hot water, flushing toilets. I splash water on my body from a dirty bucket and I thank God everyday I am alive. I rub my feet with a napkin. I have grown, learned, become an independent girl. My Nairobi mom is proud of me, she texts me "you go girl"... my Kisumu mom has taught me so much. I have a new home. I have new family. New friends. I have lived in this beautiful place called Kenya. My home.

My fellow students sit in desks and walk to class through the cold MN weather, they read in textbooks and party in bars. They listen to old white men go through lecture notes. This semester, my education has been experience. Thank God.