“Out of all the places you could travel to in the world, why Kenya?”
This past week has gone by extremely quickly. Between teaching at Irigithathi Primary School Monday through Wednesday, conducting interviews at Batian’s View, visiting the secondary school, and cooking our own meals, there’s been little time to sit and write a blog post. Until today, I haven’t had the opportunity to process what we’ve been experiencing. There is so much to reflect on and discuss that it is difficult to choose what to highlight, so in order to share as much as possible, I’ll use a moment from my interview last Monday with Fred Roberts as a point of departure.
After the American high school students from the Service Learning in Kenya (SLIK) program returned home, Fred asked if I would do an interview as a previous SLIK participant reflecting on my experiences from the program, as well as on our current work with the Foundation. Among the questions he asked—Why did you first come to Kenya? What encouraged you to come back? How did the Hansen Foundation for Education begin?—there was one in particular that stimulated my consideration throughout the rest of the week: Out of all the places you could travel to in the world, why Kenya?
My answer: The people and the community
The Kenyans we have met in the Naro Moru and Irigithathi communities are welcoming, honest, and caring. Both the adults and the students bring a type of openness and genuineness to a conversation that makes you feel more comfortable and eager to be open in return. Their patience, enthusiasm, and willingness to explain Kikuyu culture, language, and perspectives, as well as their curiosity and respect for others, help form deeper and more significant relationships that are based on a mutual desire to share. Part of what I enjoy most about our time in Kenya is getting to experience small moments of connection and exchange with friends and colleagues.
This past Tuesday, as Ben and I were heading into the teachers’ office to exchange morning greetings and shake hands, Principal Kihara surprised us in the doorway, his arms spread wide and a bright smile stretched across his face. Clasping my right hand tightly, he pulled me into a hug and exclaimed, “Wakiaiyu! Do you know what that means?” He saw me shaking my head slightly and explained, “I view you as my daughter. Wakiaiyu is the Kikuyu greeting from someone the age of your father or mother to a younger girl—his daughter. You respond wakiawa, hello father.” As Mrs. Githaiga approached us to say good morning, he whispered, “Greet her as your mother. Say wakiamaitu.” I noted his pronunciation carefully and repeated the phrase as I leaned in for a hug. Surprised, she pulled back quickly and said, “Wow! Who has taught you this? Wakiaiyu!”
Several moments later, Mrs. Maina entered the office. I decided to repeat the greeting for her as well, since I have known both her and Mrs. Githaiga the longest and appreciate the closeness among the three of us. We clasped hands, and I said, “Wakiamaitu,” just as she began giving me a hug. Upon hearing me offer a greeting in Kikuyu, she started backwards quickly in surprise before plunging forward and embracing me with even more enthusiasm than usual. “You have made me feel good,” she remarked, “By saying wakiamaitu, you are acknowledging my position as a mother and someone who is close to you. If you had just greeted me with the usual “How are you?” it would have been nice, but more distant. Only polite, but not personal.” Before she had explained the meaning behind this greeting, I had never understood the implications that using wakiamaitu could have had.
Mr. Kihara introduced this phrase to me at an appropriate point in our process of getting to know one another; during my previous visits, I would not have been familiar enough with the women to use this intimate of a greeting. After spending several weeks in Kenya during this visit, I have come to consider Mrs. Maina, Mrs. Githaiga, and Mr. Kihara as part of my Irigithathi family. Using their tribal language, Kikuyu, to acknowledge the closeness of our relationship is an appropriate way to further our relationship and is also an important step to take to show my respect for and growing understanding of their culture.
Identifying these women as my “mothers” and, in turn, being identified as their daughter deepened our relationship. Mr. Kihara’s openness and eagerness to share the Kikuyu language prompted me to take a risk and try applying this knowledge to my next conversation. The result was that the four of us experienced a surprising moment of closeness and warmth that has only strengthened our mutual respect and appreciation for one another. It is this type of interaction that typifies my respect for and sense of connection to the people in the Irigithathi community.