Day 17: "Mr. Myron!"

As is very typical of a school day, Dylan and I had to wake up early today to teach at Motiguru Primary School. Dylan would be teaching class 2 (which is how Kenyans label the 2nd grade) and I would be teaching class 1. We arrived for the school's morning assembly, met the headmaster and some other teachers, and then proceeded to our respective classrooms.

Now, I wish I could say that Motiguru is like any elementary school in the U.S., but it's honestly nothing like an American school. The school basically consists of a large field where kids play during recess, one "wing" where most of the classrooms are, the headmaster's "office", and the teachers' lounge. The kids sit on pretty badly put together wooden desks and the floor is just dirt. I meet Mrs. Matambe who is the teacher of my class. As I enter the classroom, the kids all look excited to have a foreigner teach them as Mrs. Matambe introduces me as Mr. Myron. I quickly realize that the kids don't speak very much English and there's no real way that I can teach them. Mrs. Matambe must have come to the same conclusion, because she had me sit at her desk and basically become her teaching aide.

Sitting through class was actually kind of boring but at least I got to play with the kids at recess. The best part of being at Motiguru was leading the kids' P.E. time with Dylan. We basically taught the kids some exercises and played games with them (like Duck-Duck-Goose among other games). Throughout the whole day the kids were pretty distracted by me and Dylan, and seemed to be genuinely excited about having 2 Americans at there school. Being in class was boring but I tried my best to smile at the kids and help them with their work as much as possible.

Later on in the day, we went on another house visit, except this time, we went to home of Konge, who was the church's guest speaker yesterday. On a random note, it was during his message that I fell asleep yesterday. Konge's shamba is pretty legit; not only does he have the typical banana trees, passionfruit plants, cows, etc., but he also rows of chicken coups. I had never seen so many hens/roosters/chicks before. We spent a good 2 hours just hanging out with Konge on his farm before heading back home.

I realized later on just how blessed I am. Realistically, most of the kids I met earlier that day wouldn't go to a university and would probably end up living in Weru for the rest of their lives on farms. Even Konge who has a baller shamba and is probably considered really well off will never have the opportunities that I have. Truly, it takes a trip across the world to see and experience just how much I take for granted. What Kenyan wouldn't gladly trade his/her struggles for my "struggles?" The hardest part of my normal day is doing engineering problem sets, trying to balance schoolwork with hanging out with friends, and trying not to stress out as Kobe gets the ball with 5 seconds left and with the Lakers down my 2 points. Honestly? Really?

Yet, while I have so much and people like Pastor Mwiti, my host family, and the people of Weru in general have little, they have so much more joy than I do. It's become a cliche to say that those who live in poverty have more joy than those who live in abundance, but only because this is a true statement. Kenyans don't have the opportunity or resources to worry about all the crap that I think about, but they know what's important: their family, friends, community, and God. In some weird way, having less means they know their priorities better. In America, there's more stuff and random crap, and so I can prioritize watching a basketball game and checking sports stats over reading my Bible and seeing how my friends are doing. It's upside-down and twisted, but that's just how the world is.