By Carolyn Davids

Staff writer

I find it a lot easier to reflect on my time in Kenya now that I am home - comfortable in my community and in the arms of the people that I love. My time overseas was something very different than my world here. I didn't realize how different Western culture is from the rest of the world.

I first realized it upon arrival in Nairobi, a city which is much more chaotic than those that I am used to. There were people everywhere and most were just loitering. Jaywalking was the norm and not the exception. I think there was only one working traffic light in the whole city. Pedestrians yielded to automobiles, and there was always a fear of getting hit. The only policemen that I saw were standing in the street, waving cars to pull over for ``inspection'' (they were really just looking for bribes). All this was shocking at first.

During our time in Nairobi, we heard several lectures on topics ranging from politics to HIV/AIDS to development. We even took the time for a few Swahili lessons. One of our most eye-opening days, however, was spent in Kibera, which is the second largest slum in all of Africa. We had to be ushered in by residents of the slum and taken to a Compassion International compound. When we arrived, we were greeted by choruses of children chanting: ``How are you? How are you?'' - which might have been the only English they knew. After a tour of the compound, we were taken for a short stint into the slum. There was trash everywhere, sewage in the streets and animals wandering around. The houses the people lived in weren't much bigger than a dorm room for an entire family - without the luxuries of running water or electricity.

Out in the country we saw similar things, only with a little less trash and sewage. We stayed at a farm in mud huts with grass roofs, had to use pit toilets and went for a week without a shower. The roads were in disrepair where we were lucky enough to have roads. We saw small farms growing bananas, raising quail, or herding cattle and goats. It was a different world - one without modern conveniences.

Our most intense cultural experience was a visit to a Maasai village. The tribe has clung tightly to its cultural heritage, as evidenced by their bright traditional dress and beadwork. We were greeted with singing and dancing by a group of lively women. The next day, we participated in worship with them, and were each named and adopted into a family. When they pointed to their homes and invited you to come stay with them in the future, you knew they meant it.

There is something mysterious and alluring about Africa, and we were told that we would be hooked and eager to come back after one visit. But it isn't just the breathtaking scenery or the National Geographic-esque mystery of the ``up country'' culture, but the hospitality of the people, the joy they exhibited, and their general contentment despite their poor conditions that was so impressive. Everywhere we went, we were welcomed warmly and given the best. If the family only had four chickens, they would have killed two for our group to eat a feast. We would sit on chairs while they sat on the ground. They would only eat after we had eaten, and they would be offended if we weren't borderline gluttonous.

Finally, the overflowing joy of each person we interacted with was amazing. The Maasai women that greeted us on our first day in Kilgoris could have sung and danced for hours if we would have allowed them to. The children playing in the compound in Kibera were thrilled by gifts as small as a hackeysack and a pinwheel. A small boy at one of the farms we visited was ecstatic that one of our leaders handed him a small piece of candy. These people contained a joy that is unmatched by anything that I have ever seen.