9 people and a baby

That's the number of people we've had staying at our house the last two nights.  Although we have a big flat, it's never held 12 people at once before.  On the couches, floors, and even the terrace.  People were sleeping everywhere.  But what a joy it's been to be a guest house again!

When Will and I were first married, he ran a volunteer house in Kenya.  After two months of being married we had 25 people living with us.  I spent the summer tagging along to volunteer projects, cleaning, and helping cook for everyone.  One Kenyan white woman, who was our neighbor, told me I was a very accommodating wife, with cynicism in her voice.  The truth is, I loved it.  I loved doing it with Will.  I loved hosting people.  I loved all the interesting conversations with people from all over the globe.  I loved being able to provide a home (even for a short time) for others.

And here we are again.  When some good friends asked to bring their mission team through Budapest and shack up with us, it felt like old times.  Come on over!  Today a bit of nostalgia emanates from the house as people sit on couches and floors eating breakfast.  This was the reason we chose this big flat.  This... and the terrace, of course.

Every Country is Patriotic

Born an American.  Grew up an American.  Lived most of my 20's in America.  I understand that most Americans think it an American duty to be patriotic.  But what a lot of Americans don't understand is that all countries are patriotic.  Chinese are proud to be Chinese, striving to help their country be a world leader.  Kenyans are proud to be Kenyan, happy in meager circumstances or grand, one of the first things you learn about a Kenyan is the tribe they come from.  And Hungarians.  After years of being occupied, dictated, ruled, Hungarians want to just be Hungary - ruled by their own people, for their own people.  Proud of their heritage and their complicated language that no one else can seem to learn well, Hungarians are as patriotic as they come.  I was reminded of this by a recent news article.

After living abroad for a few years now, I have come to appreciate patriotism in all its forms, in all its countries, by all its people.  Americans, you're not the only ones who love their country.  It's something we should all remember.

"Home"

Where is home?  We had this conversation at the faculty lunch table this week, laughing at the irony of the word "home" for expats.

Home is Budapest.
Home is "back home" where our families live.
Home is where our community is.
Home is where we once lived.
Home can be said for two different places in the same sentence.
Home can be our permanent address where we have never actually lived.
Or the state on our driver's license.
Home is where there are people who love us.

This summer we're going "back home" to visit family.  "Home" meaning the U.S.  I'm not even making it up to Alaska this time and still it's called "home".  Then we're coming "home" to Budapest, where we live and work and go about our regular routines.

Home.
It's a funny word.

No Power

Today the town of Nagykovacsi, where my school is located, was doing some electrical work. So we were without power all day at school - no computers, no email, no projectors, no lights, no internet. We knew about it in advance. We made our copies the day before. We planned to teach with no computers or projector or internet access. We opened the curtains to let in light. We went on with business as usual (for the most part). And still the complaints!

"I don't like this no electricity thing."

"No computers?!"

"School should have been canceled."

That was all from teachers. Really?! Give me a break. Go to most countries in the world and you don't get advanced warning about power outages. My comment to a colleague moving to China next year when he was frustrated was, "Get used to it."

For me, teaching with the power out made me a bit nostalgic today - an "I miss Kenya" moment. Hearing all the complaints made me miss my old co-workers who would laugh about their interrupted lesson due to black outs and my students who wouldn't blink an eye as generators roared to life, cut off, roared, cut off. Ahhh... How different my life is than it was 9 months ago.

I looked in my closet yesterday and realized...

When I moved to Budapest

I owned 3 sweaters

And a lot of ratty summer clothes

Washed by hand

And dried in the African sun too many times.

When I looked in my closet this week

I saw 11 sweaters

And a few ratty summer clothes

Washed by hand

And dried in the African sun too many times.

Last year at this time

I was wearing a sun dress and sandals to work.

Now it's -7 degrees F

And I'm wearing long underwear,

Trousers (leggings don't cut it!),

2 pairs of wool socks,

2 shirts,

1 sweater,

1 scarf,

1 hat,

1 amazingly warm coat,

And ugly old winter boots from years ago

To work each day.

I looked in my closet yesterday and realized...

It used to take me 2 minutes to get dressed in the morning.

Now it's a full 15 minutes with all those layers.

I'm ready for spring.

And it looks very far away...!

World Politics

I know, it's a taboo subject anywhere you go. In Kenya it was tribal divides (that caused a LOAD of violence). In Hungary it's liberal vs. conservative vs. extremist vs. a whole lot of parties. In America it's always Republican vs. Democrat (meaning "Christian vs. non-Christian" from the Republican perspective and "non-thinker vs. enlightened" from the Democratic perspective). Everyone has a point of view. Everyone has an opinion. Some people listen to various opinions. Some people don't want to listen to anyone else's opinion because they KNOW. I've heard politics preached from the church pulpit (in more than one country) and politics come up in conversations on the public tram. Living rooms, kitchens, coffee shops, meetings... people talk politics. But what are they really talking about? Mostly what I hear in those conversations is what is wrong with the "other side". What is wrong with the Muslims. What is wrong with the Americans. What is wrong with the Africans. What is wrong with Christians. What is wrong with non-Christians. The truth is, we're all wrong. No one has it right. Because if we were, then we wouldn't have all the mess we have in the world. People in every country would have homes and food and jobs. Political leaders wouldn't be so greedy and would actually want to HELP the people they represent. People would look a little beyond themselves to view things from a different perspective.

I've had the privilege to live in a few different parts of the world now. And naturally, my perspective changes a little bit with each new place and each new person I meet. I can go off on my soap box like anyone else (maybe that's what this post is). But after seeing the perspective from a few different places, I have to say... Politics will always be the same no matter where you go. It's never going to get better because people are involved. Greedy, selfish, ego-centric people. And that includes all of us because we all have a perspective we want heard.

A few months ago I was living in Africa next to a slum where people were starving. I couldn't handle the sadness and frustration anymore, so I moved to Europe. Now I'm buying new furniture and new clothes. All the while, knowing friends in Kenya who have no jobs and can't feed their kids, throwing a few coins into the homeless guy's cup on the Budapest street. What am I really doing to not be greedy and selfish and focus on myself? Still working on that one. It's all politics - even internally. And I think, if we all ACTUALLY tried to see from another perspective, how would our politics change?

Missing Kenya

Yep, I said it. I'm actually missing Kenya a bit. After being in Hungary for 2 1/2 months, I'm finally having some I-miss-Kenya moments. Maybe the "honeymoon stage" is wearing off. Maybe I'm just tired from work. Maybe it's time to remember the good times of Kenya rather than the slum I left. Regardless, here are some of the things I've been remembering and missing with fondness...

Friends, of course.

Good Art Cafe bread. Haven't found a Hungarian bakery that measures up.

Diversity! Everyone here has white skin. Everyone here is from Western culture. I miss the mix Nairobi has. I actually miss NOT blending in. (Although I must say, Hungarians stare worse than Kenyans. This was kind of nice when I first arrived and I was staring at all the white people. I just fit in with my freakish staring.)

More down time. In Kenya the city doesn't have a whole lot to offer, so quite a bit of time is spent at home reading, watching movies, baking, just chillin' out. Not so much here in Hungary. I kind of miss snuggling on the couch on a Friday night, Sunday night, Monday night, Tuesday night...

Still appreciative of life in Budapest. Still thankful for my new job. Still happy to be living in Europe. At the same time, very grateful for what Kenya gave me as well!

I'm spoiled!

I'm realizing (now that I'm back in a developed country) that I learned to live quite simply in Kenya. There weren't a lot of options in terms of groceries or furniture or anything really. We lived comfortably, but we didn't have all the conveniences of home, so to say. And honestly, I didn't miss them much. (Although I must admit that I did miss the occasional shopping trip with a girlfriend.) We learned to cook a lot of things from scratch, and were SO excited when they started selling tortillas in the store. Kenya is a gorgeous country and the chaos and laid-back approach to life added to its charm (most of the time). I learned to take things slower and be more patient. I learned to expect things to take days to get done, or sometimes weeks, or sometimes MONTHS. Sometimes it got on my nerves and other times I learned to shrug it off.

Now I'm living in Hungary. A developed country where things actually work. And things are mostly on time. Now, for my colleagues coming directly from the States, I've heard a few complaints about things being slow or not working. But you've got to be kidding me?! In Kenya it took 11 months for Will and I to get residency. Hungary is only 4 weeks! So I'm feeling very spoiled in my new home. Some of the things that make me happy lately include...

Super sonic speed internet

Safety

Drinkable tap water

Instant hot water in the shower

Parks with soft cut grass

Trams, busses, and metros

Shopping malls and big box stores

Nectarines and berries

I guess going from third world to first world will make someone excited about grass. I think living around the world has taught me to appreciate what I have in the moment. There is always something to be excited about and thankful for. In Kenya it was mangos. In Hungary it is blueberries. Maybe next it will be apples in Russia... (Let's hope not! Brrr!!!)

Goodbyes

The Sad Goodbyes:

The toughest people to say goodbye to are our Kenyan friends, who aren't likely to visit Budapest or won't be in town when we're in the States. This was the day the tears started rolling for me.

The Funny Goodbyes:

This is the neighbor's cat, Rafiki. This picture shows how he decided to help us while we were packing.

He'll miss his Uncle Will whom he visited each day. But we gave him his favorite napping blanket to keep, so he'll always remember us.

The Happy Goodbyes:

Gitanga Road, oh how I will never miss thee. Your exhaust fumes, mad matatu drivers, and man-eating holes I will gladly exchange for paved sidewalks, tree-lined paths, and public transportation that is not a major health hazard. Goodbye forever!

I guess most things in life are good and bad.

Goodbyes are no different.

And new adventures too.

We leave in 1 day!

Expectations

I have a tendency to move to countries I've never been. China. Kenya. Now Hungary. When you've never been to the place you're moving, you try to imagine what it will be like. You get excited about the possibilities. You think through the things that are important to pack, when really you don't know what you'll need or miss or want. Then there are The Expectations. You create these in your head even if you try not to. I have to admit that I do have expectations when moving from Kenya to Hungary. I expect things to work properly in Hungary. I expect to go to the park and read a book. I expect to use public transportation. By myself. Whenever I want. I expect my husband not to worry about safety too much. I expect to go running with my iPod. I expect less dirt. I expect more camping and hiking. I expect a lot of white people. I expect to blend in more (until I open my mouth). I expect some frustrations, particularly language ones. And I expect that unsettled feeling for awhile, the feeling that I really don't know how to do things in this country yet and I have to just keep trying. Expectations are inevitable. It's when they're not met that disappointment sets in, followed by frustration, maybe even anger at times. I figure that none of that frustration can be as bad as braving the roads of Nairobi. But then again, maybe I'm wrong. All the moving-abroad-books say to keep your expectations low. Is "reading in a park" too high of an expectation? I'll let you know when I get there.

Done!

I'm done with school! It has been a great year at Braeburn. But in all honesty, I'm ready to move on. Well, I'm at least ready to be done with the paperwork and play practices and extended hours. Of course, there are some things I'll miss... The kids.

How can you not love those faces, especially when I get love letters and poems like these?... :)

Most of all, I'll miss the friends and co-workers, who have added lots of laughs and fun to the hard work. You are a super fun, hilarious bunch! I think you'll be a difficult group to beat.

Best wishes to everyone at Braeburn. Come visit us in Budapest!

Three Years in Kenya...

Zero tax returns

Half a car

One rafting trip on the Nile River

One marriage proposal

One wedding

Two jobs

Two car accidents

Two honeymoons

Four homes

Four trips to the US Embassy

Five sightings of Mt. Kilimanjaro

Six trips outside the country

Seven housemates

Eight safaris

Nine trips to the beach

Twenty Swahili words (pathetic, I know)

25 visitors from America

107 children in my classroom

A LOT of road rage

And many friends.

Our final trip in Kenya

We took our last Kenya outing over the weekend. Eight friends. A rented house. Great view. Pool. Food. Drinks. Laughs. Games. Just chillin'. It was a great time in Naivasha (about 2 hours outside Nairobi) in the coolest house I've ever stayed in.

Of course, I got very reflective on the way home. But I'll spare you all the crazy thoughts that ran through my head and just give you the cliff's notes instead...

I love Kenya.

Sometimes I hate Kenya.

But Kenya has been VERY good to me, and I will miss it.

7 More Weeks

School has been VERY hectic. Even the head teacher (principal) admitted to me yesterday that Braeburn School is the busiest place he's ever worked, and it gets busier every year. You should see all the teachers on a Friday night. "Knackered," as my colleagues say. Despite all the chaos and feeling like a chicken with my head cut off, we do manage a bit of fun amongst the learning. These are some of the things we did this week in Class 4K...

Monday we went to the Nairobi Railway Museum to learn about the building of the East African Railway. If you've seen Ghost in the Darkness, you'll know a little bit about the man-eating lions that ate workers who built the railway. Here's the car where one man was

dragged off.

The museum has many interesting relics. This outdoor train seat was sat on by Teddi Roosevelt, the Prince of Wales, and two of my students.

International Day was Wednesday. We all enjoyed dressing up and traveling around the world. We went from Aruba to Australia to Canada to Japan and more. We all suffered a bit of jet lag by the end of the day!

We played some "ice-hockey" in Canada.

And wore kimonos in Japan.

Our week continued with more excitement as class 4K presented an assembly for the school on Friday. We acted out the story of Gandhi, whom we've been studying. Here are some of my fabulous actors.

You can see "Young Gandhi" on the front left (totally type casted!) and "Old Gandhi" on the right (bald cap and all).

It's the weekend now, and I will admit that today (Saturday) I'm doing absolutely nothing in front of the TV, took a 3 hour nap this afternoon, and haven't even gotten dressed. The work load is starting to catch up with me. I will also admit that I'm counting down. What teacher doesn't at the end of the year? 7 weeks to go. Despite the extreme parts of this job, I have learned a lot this year and enjoyed the diversity and improvement of my kids. (But I do hope the American School of Budapest is a little less hectic!)

No green thumb needed...

Things just grow here! As some of you know, when we arrived at Flat 17 we had some pots with very sad sticks coming out of the soil. With a little bit of water we had green leaves. Now, every once in awhile, a surprise flower pops through the green. The latest is this:

The flower only lasts a day. It turned into this the next day and fell off.

After a bit of internet searching, we found it was called Neomarica Gracilis or Apostle's Iris or the Walking Iris. It's native to West Africa, Central and South America, and most densely populated in Brazil. Supposedly it is quite rare. Cool!

We also saw these pop up about the same time.

Will realized they might be the pepper seeds he planted months ago. They've finally shown themselves. I guess they just wanted the heavy rains to come. We'll see, we may have peppers soon.

I haven't been to church in 2 years.

After one too many sermons about "do not commit adultery" and "don't beat your wife", I quit attending Kenyan church. I lasted 10 months. I think that's pretty good considering sermons are a minimum of two hours long, and that does not include the announcements and singing and all the other things that Christians have been taught a church service must entail. I will admit that I miss church. I don't miss the building and the 3-point sermons and the Sunday morning announcements. I certainly don't miss watching people do what they think they're "supposed" to do to be Christian. But I do miss people. I miss worshipping together. I miss being a part of a "family" and helping each other along this journey.

In Kenya I've learned a lot about the church. Some good, some bad. Nairobi is the missionary mecca for Africa. And most of Kenya is Christian, carrying out the duties that missionaries told them are Christian. You can't turn on a Kenyan TV channel on Sunday morning and not hear some Kenyan preacher yelling at the congregation. And I mean yelling. What happened to teaching, I wonder. No, we've got to preach! And shout the fear of God into people! That's Christianity? I don't really remember reading about Jesus shouting a lot.

So the whole church thing has been turned over in my head a lot over the last few years in Kenya. Because I always had real church families in America, PEOPLE who were the church rather than the church BUILDING, I've never really had these things to sort out before. I look at my years in Kenya and see how there have been remnants of the church in my life here, despite not attending church in a building. People have come alongside me during the hard bits of my journey. I've had good theological conversations that make me really think about what I believe. People have become "family". It just doesn't look like the church down the road that I hear blaring music at midnight on a Friday night. It doesn't look like a church I once attended. It looks like people walking in the journey with me. That's what I always want church to be.

That's what I hope church will be like in Hungary. And I will admit I hope we find a church that meets in some building where I can meet more people who become "family", have good theological conversations, and worship with a band. (Yep, I miss the guitar in church.) But I've learned that church really is about people and journeys and not all the other stuff that Christian culture adds to the mix.

I haven't been to church in 2 years, and maybe that's been a good thing. Maybe that's been part of my journey and God teaching me a few new things.

Three Day Weekend = Road Trip!

We headed off to Tsavo National Park, the largest park in Kenya, on Saturday morning. Weaving and stopping through Nairobi traffic for two hours and then two more hours on a reasonably smooth road, got us to the gate of the park and a stunning view of mountains, hills, savanna, and jungle.

Five of us got out of the car, stretched our legs, and set up camp at our little bandas, complete with small kitchenette, mosquito nets, warm beds, and a bathroom.

And also an amazing view of Mt. Kilimanjaro.

We spent Sunday hiking along Mzima Springs, which flows from deep in the volcanic ground, and over hardened lava flow.

We also listened to the wonderful sounds of nature (a definite contrast to the horrid traffic on our street) and saw some of Africa's unique animals.

We watched a storm move in and rain cover the Kenyan landscape, adding to the green of the park. The rainy season has come to Kenya and so far it's looking good. Hopefully no drought this year!

On Monday we came home through little traffic. (I love holidays in Nairobi when everyone is off the streets and driving is a little less chaotic than usual.) It's back to work on Tuesday morning, but with a weekend away from the city, fresh air, beauty, and a bit of extra sleep, I think I'm ready to take on the last 10 weeks of school. And it's always great to be reminded how beautiful Kenya is off Gitanga Road.

Holiday Happenings

Aside from relaxing, sleeping in, and running errands the last three weeks of holiday, I've been hanging out with Will at the Children's Centre.

And hanging out with friends at the beach for a whole week!

But no Kenyan holiday can be void of a bit of frustration. In a taxi to the airport in Nairobi and in a taxi to the airport in Mombasa we were pulled over by the police. Kenyan police do regular "police checks" on the side of the road. What are they checking for? A bribe. 99% of the time they have no legal grounds for whatever they're saying is illegal with your vehicle or your driver's license. Today the police officer commented on the tire flaps. He said, "The front tires have mud flaps, but the back tires don't." What's the big deal about that? Nothing, but this policeman can keep us pulled to the side of the road, threatening, and talking until the expected sentence is finally spoken, "Give something small for the police." This means, give me money and I'll let you continue on your way. So our taxi driver gave him "something small", somewhere between 300 and 500 Ksh ($4-$6). This is corruption at the smallest level in Kenya. Corruption goes all the way to the top in most African nations, and Kenya is right there with the best of them. Just read the news. This is one thing I will NOT miss about Kenya.