Becoming A Person

“A person becomes a person through other people.”-African Proverb

My last 24 hours in Kisumu were absolutely jam-packed. I left Kisumu at 7 AM on Sunday, and at around 1 AM on Saturday my last day officially began. Patricia and I were up until around 1:30 on operation mandazi, which turned out to be quite successful. We had a brief encounter with a few guard dogs on our way back to our house, but otherwise it was a great night. We had really great discussions, and even had the experience of cooking by candlelight for about an hour and a half while the power was out.

After getting very little sleep on Friday night, we woke up to a busy Saturday. We had mass on Saturday morning at 9:15, but got to school around 8 for liturgical dance practice. We hung out with some of the older boys while they ate breakfast, and then got down to business. The girls dressed us in two pieces of cloth called khangas in Swahili (or lassos in Luo), which made dancing a bit more difficult. We had one going diagonally across one shoulder and another over our skirts to act as a skirt, and luckily Patricia and I had shirts in the exact same color blue, so we were matched perfectly. It was then that we learned that it was not only the girls who would be dancing with us- the boys too! We had an amazing mass- we danced, did the readings, and sang along with everyone. We also mourned with everyone, as it was the first time that the entire school community was gathered together after Wycliff’s death. The Dominican Laity were also there for a special “Friendship Day” with the kids that they have every so often.

Fr. Martin’s homily was about friendship, and specifically how Wycliff was such a great example of what it means to be a friend. At the end of mass right before the final blessing, the school gave us a special gift. There were speeches, a special Dominican blessing, gifts, and an abundance of tears. I’m sure this is no surprise to anyone, but I absolutely lost it in the middle of the blessing. It finally started to hit me that I was leaving Kisumu and that I didn’t know the next time I’d be back. These kids have touched me in a way unlike anything I’ve ever felt, and it killed me to think of leaving them now.

After our beautiful tribute, we ran back to the Friars’ side so I could finish the movie! Patricia sprinkled all 450 mandazi (that’s right, 450… we outdid ourselves) with powdered sugar and helped me pick the soundtrack out, I threw in some laundry, and we waited for the DVD to burn. After we tested it in the Friars’ DVD player, we ran over, each carrying a big pot (called a souperia) full of mandazi, and Patricia ran back to get the third while I set up the DVD player. The kids watched the movie, which ended up being about 30 minutes long, and enjoyed their mandazis (we made enough for 2 each). During the movie, lyrics from the songs that we had picked out struck me in new ways: The movie ended with “You’ll Be in My Heart” from Disney’s Tarzan. The lines “you’ll be in my heart/from this day on/now, and forever more” jumped right out at me, and they completely captured all of how I was feeling at that exact moment.
After the movie, the photos, requests for contact info, and goodbyes began. We ran back for our last dinner and Compline with the Friars, and then back to school. We went around knocking on the doors of the dorms to say goodbye to the girls, and at first it didn’t seem real. The kids waited for us outside at first, but then they loved that we were visiting their dorms, so they all went in their rooms and waited for us to visit. After hugging every girl and saying goodbye to the sisters, Fr. Martin drove us back to our house.

In our house, we faced a new challenge: packing. We were completely fried and exhausted, and really had no motivation to pack because we didn’t want to leave at all. Just the thought of packing made my head hurt… so I went to sleep. We woke up at 4:45, packed up, ran over to where the boys stay to say goodbye before they went to mass, and got in the car to the airport.

Boarding the plane out of Kisumu didn’t seem real at all, and honestly still doesn’t. The airport is teeny tiny: there is one waiting room as well as a place to wait outdoors. We waited outside for a little bit, then handed in our boarding passes and walked across the tarmac to our plane. We were surrounded by the beautiful scenery of Nyanza province, thinking about our kids and when the next time we’ll be back will be. We learned so much from the beautiful people in Kisumu, and it has absolutely changed who we are. Walking onto the plane in the same place we had been a month before, we can confidently say that we are different people because of the people we met. No one can say it better than that African proverb.