Karibu Kenya #7: Seminary Tests, Habesha and Poetry.

The morning started off with excitement as Aimee and I carried our laundry basket down to grandma’s house, only to find out that there was no water. I was surprised that it merely took a week to happen.  Needless to say, we weren’t able to do our laundry, but fortunately it was back on by nightfall, so you can guess what activity we’ll be involved in tomorrow.

After my usual breakfast of coffee and toast, I got a quick start on lesson planning. By 11:30, I had finished teaching the boys Spanish for the day. Seeing the perfect opportunity, Grandpa decided to enlist me in grading his students’ tests from seminary class. He must have known that grading papers is every teacher’s dream during summer break (insert sarcasm). Earlier on in the week he had shared how he was doing everything he could to motivate his students yet they had no desire to produce their own answers or study. Sounds familiar, right? Understanding the mutual feelings and frustrations of a teacher, I willingly got out my red pen and began to grade.  Not long into my third test, my blood began to boil. Mind you, these are not my students, but I have to say, if you are unable to spell words like Jesus, Jews or Gentiles maybe you should consider a different career path. Of course, this wasn’t the majority of the class, but I couldn’t help but share my immediate feelings.

On other notes, we finally got the Voxy van back from the mechanic! Aimee, Mim and I were singing the hallelujah chorus because at last we have our own set of wheels! After our ritual afternoon walk, we decided to celebrate by going to Habesha, an Ethiopian restaurant located minutes away from the US embassy. I hadn’t eaten Ethiopian food in years, so you can imagine my excitement. We seated ourselves across from a table of Marines- at least that was what we assumed by the stereotypical haircuts and an excerpt in the paper about security measures being increased. Our waiter was quick to get us our beverages and before long we found our hands full of injera (sour, spongy bread). The vegetable platter proved itself filling as we stuffed our faces, dipping the bread into the different piles of chickpeas, lentils and kale. After our big meal, we enjoyed a round of Ethiopian coffee. A tray with a clay pot of freshly boiled coffee, small ceramic cups and incense was set before us. Interestingly enough, there was also a small basket of popcorn to accompany our strong, bitter shots of coffee. If you know me well, I can’t help but follow up with my overused punch line "I like my coffee dark, like my men" (I think it's a hilarious thing to say, but you might find yourself shaking your head). Sorry, not sorry! Can't resist a catchy line! Our night wasn’t complete until we saw a couple of rats hanging out on the patio with us. Of course, Aimee freaked out almost falling out of her chair while Mim and I sat there laughing our heads off. Can I just say we will definitely be going back to Habesha and SOON!

As I sit and type, Aimee and I have been taking turns reading from a new poetry book called “Blankets of Sand” by Ararat Iyob. I’m in love with her words. Leaving you with her poem, dedicated to my anonymous person:

 “Aches”

Every time I see or think of you

Aches of eternity

Hang heavily on me

And yet I know the answer

That my fate with you

Has been decided by the past

 

(Habesha restaurant)

 

(Ethiopian coffee tray)