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Pockets Full of Patience and Flexibility
By Harmony | May 29, 2009 | 7:47 pm
Bring them with you to Kenya. That’s what the Peace Corps told us during Staging in Philadelphia. I find that here, a little patience and flexibility goes a long way. It can take a frustrating situation and very quickly turn it into a productive one. A little creativity doesn’t hurt, either.
It was an unusual day with all sorts of turns. I managed to be quite productive and chipper in the morning, which I think took my supervisor by surprise, since I’ve been unusually disagreeable this week. Today I taught my second computer class, and a bunch of new students dropped in. I find this rather reassuring, because word travels fast in this little village, and if my last class was a bust, I don’t think anyone would have come at all. But here they were, a handful of fresh new faces among the old, eagerly waiting to learn.
Let me back up a little. Class started at 2:00 pm, but an hour earlier, I wasn’t sure if there was going to be a class at all. I learned that the electric bill on the building had been paid, and I double-checked this morning to make sure we had power. Everything was good to go. But then, during my lunch hour, I was sitting on the floor in my room and my ceiling fan stopped. The power was out. Damn. How would I teach a computer class, now?
I finished scarfing down my nutrient deficient lunch of ramen and coffee, then pulled out a notebook so that I could re-evaluate my lesson plan. I knew I could review hardware today, and maybe I could talk about software. I could describe folders and files and programs, but without them seeing it first hand, I didn’t think the information would stick. I lay in my bed, willing the power to go back on. Maybe if I harnessed my energy, I could send it through the ceiling fan and up through the wires to the nearest power station, I thought. Maybe someone could flip a switch somewhere and get things going again. I visualized a computer room with electricity, then shrugged it off and figured that we’d manage somehow, and if we didn’t, there was always next week’s class. I left my room, made a few stops to greet people, then headed to the office with the computer.
The power was on. My visualization worked. I’m getting good at honing in my psychic abilities, I thought to myself. The class progressed without a hitch, and we had a blast. These women, and two new men, were thrilled to learn how to navigate the desktop using a mouse. Move the cursor, double click, maximize, minimize, close, adjust the size of the window, single click, and with every success there was a room full of giggles. It was marvelous.
There is one student who teaches during the day, so I’ve taken her on for one-on-one sessions on Friday evenings. When my 2:00 pm class was over, I locked up the office, returned the keys to the Secretary, and hurried back to my room to make it presentable for my guest. It wasn’t long before I realized something strange - there was no power. I walked around to the duka and asked Mama Waidaka if she knew about it. Hakuna stima (no power)? Hapana, wamekata (no, they cut it). Kwa nini (why)? Because they say we didn’t pay our bill, she replied, in English this time. We paid our bill a week ago, but this is how things go in Kenya. Will they turn it back on tonight? Not a chance. All this time I thought that the whole village was without electricity. Up to that point, it didn’t occur to me that it was just my house.
I marveled at how I would teach my evening student without electricity. I couldn’t borrow the key to the computer office, as I was already indebted to the Secretary for allowing me to use their facilities for my class. I decided that I would use the KMFRI office. But that was locked, too. I found a keyholder, who opened the door for me. All was well, again.
But then my student came to visit me thirty minutes before our scheduled start time. It is her 26th birthday today, and her family was throwing her a surprise party. She was not going to make it to our class tonight. I exhaled a heavy sigh of relief. She invited me to her party. I said I’d stop by.
Which brings me to the present moment. I’m in the KMFRI office as I write this now, taking advantage of electricity to check my e-mail and wrap things up for the day. When I am done here, I will stop by my student’s house, to see how they party it up here in the village. Then, I will attempt to take a bucket bath in the dark, and if I’m really ambitious, I might even try to shave (I am going to the beach tomorrow, with friends). It’s been a while since I’ve used my taa (lantern), but it was a fine friend in Loitokitok where I had no electricity at all, so I’m sure I’ll be okay.
If these sorts of problems were to present themselves to me in America, I probably would have stressed out. Here, I found myself amused at the situation at hand, where everything seemingly went wrong and then turned itself right at the last moment. I’m amazed at how often this patience and flexibility thing comes in handy. It’s made me a happier person, that’s for sure.