Friday I was feeling discouragement from being able to hear what I’m being told in KiSwahili. Most people want to try to use their English with me, which is ok, except that I am not getting practice in hearing KiSawhili when it is spoken. After spending sometime absolutely failing to understand an Mzee who greeted me on the road, all I wanted was to spend time alone to wallow in my frustration and longing for home.
As I was walking back to my utility closet of a room, (I literally found out it was the utility room yesterday when they labeled all the doors in the new building! I definitely lost it laughing. I’m in here until my house is finished.) there were a group of kids unabashedly staring at me from the side of the road. One of them had a make-shift ball in their hand. So I went up to them an asked if they wanted to play, and they lost it with excitement. We played various versions of football and a ‘keeping the ball in the air’ game we made up. We played for nearly two hours and I’m pretty sure I said less than ten words in total!
It is finding consolation in the little things, especially in my new community that is going to get me through these next two years. It’s a rough road, but it’s the little things that will bind me to this place and realizing that play surpasses the barriers of language is the greatest thing to remember.
“Little drops of water and little grains of sand make the mighty ocean and the pleasant land”
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