100 bottles of hot sauce. A ton of potatoes. 70 lbs of ugali. A bazillion calories of chapati. 1200 bananas. Countless hot bus rides. Too many inappropriate marriage proposals I’m still trying to forget. 786 explanations that I am not a doctor nor do I have money. 534 requests for the shirt of my back. A million liters of rain water caught.
728 bucket baths. 90 laundry days with buckets. 30 nights hiding from rogue bats in my house. 23,000 high 5’s from kids. Malaria. A hospital stay. An IV drip. Costochondritis. Strep. Allergies to the dust. 2 months of coughing. 5 eye infections. Jiggers. 2 sprained ankles. 3 thorns stuck in my foot. A viral infection. Numerous, but never enough remarkable sunsets. 500 household visits. 1749 cups of chai with enough sugar to kill a person. 2 broken external hard drives. A cracked kindle screen. A broken laptop. 61 books read. 394 hours of training. Nearly 3,000 insecticide-treated nets distributed. 350 hours spent at the school. 9,999 hours waiting for meetings to start. Zebra. Giraffe. Lions. Leopards. Cheetahs. Elephants. Impala. Wildebeest. Ostrich. Hippos. Rhinos. Monkeys. Baboons.
104 weeks. 728 days. 17,472 hours. 1,048,320 minutes.
Blood. Sweat. Tears. And pooping in a hole.
All of this adds up to my PC life in Kenya for 2 years. Now that this day is here it seems it has gone by fast even though there were many times, even 2 weeks ago, that it felt like time had stopped.
10 bottles of hot sauce. 60 bucket baths. 8 laundry days. 931 high 5’s from kids. 32 hours at the school. 8 Thursdays. 59 days. 1,416 hours. 84,960 minutes.
Or in other words 2 months until I am done with my PC service in Kenya.
You could say I am eager to finish. Or to just be done with doing my business in a hole and shoo-ing away lizards and spiders from the choo. Or to have water from a tap again. Or to have endless varieties of food. Or to leave behind the awkward relationship conversations with people who barely know your name if at all. (seriously this is a conversation I had. Well really I was just present. Dude had his mom pull me aside and with her there he pulled out a picture of himself and a girl. He told me she was his Filipino fiancé and she had died so he needed a new marriage partner. His mom then tells me she has chosen me. We had just met an hour earlier.)
Or to have ac/heat. Or electricity that isn’t out 12 hours a day.
So yes, it seems clear that I am ready to continue on, but this is not to say that I’m not starting to become sentimental. Or that I am even regretting my decision to be here. I am glad that I did this. I am well aware that I only have 24 softball practices left with my girls.
Dwindling opportunities to visit with the friends I have made. Kenyans and other volunteers.
Because I have my remaining time down to the minute this post may read that I’m too eager to get out of here. This is not how I meant it but in the last 3 months of our service our focus is to wrap up our projects and make sure they are sustainable. I have had several projects and started many things during these 2 years but threw the ones to the side that weren’t working or didn’t seem they would continue when I left. My projects that I’ve been focusing on that seemed to promise sustainability are doing great and well you can consider them wrapped with a nice little bow. They don’t need me anymore. Which is every volunteer’s dream. It’s great, but it leaves me with a wide-open schedule. Thus, my eagerness to reach August 6. Oh and because this cute boy lives in America, and so, I want to be there.
With my remaining 1,416 hours in Kenya I am making it a point to take everything in. On walks through the village.
Hugs from dirt covered children in tattered clothes. Every conversation with a mama. Hanging out with the girls at the bore hole or under a tree to stay cool. The air. The sun. The sky. The village. Because this has been my life for the past 2 years. Blood. Sweat. Tears. And pooping in a hole.
And as much as I yearn for my family. Food. Amenities. Normalcy. I know in a short while there will be times I yearn for my Nambo life.