Thursday, November 22, 2007

Selling Out

Times of solitude sometimes result in public confession: I bought a microwave.

The situation's complicated. I hadn't bought one when I arrived for several reasons- one, they are expensive. Two, I wondered how long I could go without one. Three, my kitchen is super tiny and I didn't quite see where one would fit. Actually I discovered I didn't really need one- food goes bad quickly here since there are almost no preservatives in anything (and because, as I've ascertained by being home all day, the power often goes out so the fridge doesn't run consistently). Plus there are lots of great fresh foods here; why would I pick something rewarmed over that? And finally, I learned to plan ahead and eat any leftovers for lunchtime at school- the staff room does have a microwave.

So my routine was chugging along, and I was feeling pretty self-righteous about not owning one (I still have lurking suspicions of microwaves borne of my mom's hippy tendencies and our family's long delay in getting one in the first place 15 years ago). The houses on campus are pretty close to each other, and I had ambled the 30 feet into other people's kitchens to chat with them and use their microwaves on occasion. It was minorly inconvenient for all involved, but not compelling enough to do something about.

But with the advent of my isolation, it suddenly became just that compelling. People were asking what they could do for me, and many folks brought over food (well, more like left it outside my door and ran away trying not to inhale), and all the meals were way more than a one-person serving. My appetite was gone for the first 4 days of my sickness, as fits the symptoms, so there was lots of food piling up. And when I was hungry, I had better be able to eat exactly what I was craving right away or my hunger would disappear and it would be another day of consuming nothing but lemon tea. As wonderful as lemon tea is, when that's all I eat I black out each time I sit upright. Not conducive to recovery. So when I came back from the doctor on Monday, I wanted the rice and chicken I had in the fridge, but I didn't want it cold, and I couldn't run over to someone else's house and risk infecting them. Plus, I was near tears at the thought of being isolated for and additional 7 days beyond when I started feeling better and didn't feel like doing much running anyway. So that night I sent money to Nakumatt with some friends to buy the cheapest microwave they could find.

And so now I have it, gleaming white and taking up half my counter space. It's one of the cool oldschool ones with the twisty dial to set the time, and when it runs it sounds like a jet taking off. Hey, I like things that have character. I just don't usually buy them new... And of course, the next day the power was off for pretty much the whole day so I couldn't use it anyway. Naturally. But I did evntually grate some cheese over some tortilla chips and mix in some precious green chile from my care package. All New Mexicans know that green chile "burns out the germs," so I nuked my homemade nachos it as soon as the power came back on at dark and enjoyed my not-so-healthy dinner. Yummy.

And the next day, I started to feel much better. I firmly believe in the healing power of God, at work through prayer and green chile, and I am on #2 of the 7 symptom-free days required before I can go back to work. So basically, I feel fine but am still highly contagious. The feeling fine part makes it hard to stay in my apartment. However, my wonderful principal and her husband have invited me over to their house for the weekend so I can be somewhere else for part of my recovery. That sounds great; these 3 rooms are getting exponentially smaller. They are Baptist missionaries who live across town, so I'll get to ride in a car and see some other rooms for a while. I really appreciate her offer. They'll have to leave me behind when they go to Thanksgiving dinner tonight, but that's OK- at least I'll get to be somewhere new!

As expected, homesickness is setting in more severely. My parents and brother and future sister-in-law are all visiting her family in IL for the holiday. It's a bummer to feel left out, but I'll see my parents in a month and then everyone else 2 months after that for the wedding. I'm hoping the days between here and there go more quickly than these days of quarantine, but I'm sure they will: I have a microwave now, and I heard that makes everything faster.

Monday, November 19, 2007

Mumps

So, dear readers, it's official- I have the mumps.

I don't look quite like a chipmunk; in fact the swelling isn't all that noticeable. That's my excuse for not posting pictures of my upside-down-heart shaped face (made worse by my cone-head?).

But the kind pediatrician who diagnosed the other cases here on campus told me that I'm not allowed to go back to work for an additional seven days after all my symptoms are gone. Something about the children being our future... He also says I don't have encephalitis nor an enlarged pancreas, either of which would be bad complications and would be grounds for me writing a blog post entitled The Scenic Hospitals of Nairobi.

So for now I'm focusing on The Scenic Inside of My Apartment, but in the spirit of the season not celebrated in this country, here's a list of things I'm thankful for:
  • I now get Thanksgiving day off, even though it's not a Rosslyn holiday
  • I will be missing a staff development day
  • A couple of great math teachers are covering my classes, one of whom has a student teacher who will be teaching full-time during the next couple of weeks
  • I have internet access from my bedroom
  • My computer plays DVDs
  • I only feel mildly crummy
  • My appetite returned this afternoon
  • I recently got a care package from my church in New Mexico, and cleverly hidden among the items were 2 seasons of Numb3rs and 2 seasons of 24
  • Coworkers who have brought over books to read despite the risk of infection
  • A neighbor who gave me a ride to the doctor and has brought me dinner the last 3 nights
  • A care package of flowers, instant soup, and popsicles
  • Genuine care and support from my administrator
  • Parents who skype me each day and feel sorry for me
  • Emails from friends who remind me that though I may be invisible, I am not forgotten
I'm sure there will more news from The Scenic Inside of My Apartment soon, but for now, it's the unfortunately gregarious impala, signing off.

Monday, November 12, 2007

More Pictures from The Nest

This is Pam Nipper, our elementary librarian and superintendent's wife. I really like her a lot.
This is Wendy, who teaches next door to me and is new this year as well. She's the friend I'll hang out in Amsterdam with during our layovers at Christmas...



Shikoo's more melancholy side. =)

Saturday, November 3, 2007

Visiting The Nest

This morning I headed up into the hills of Limuru, a region just outside of Nairobi. It was a beautiful drive, almost entirely uphill past tea farms and markets. Six of us went along with Mel and Kerry, teachers who are connected with a children's home called The Nest. The person who runs the home sends her children to Rosslyn, and each weekend Mel and Kerry keep a baby to give it one on one attention, eye contact, and lots of love. Some of the children at the The Nest have been abandoned and are available for adoption; most have mothers who are in prison. The organization also owns a halfway house near campus where mothers who are just out of prison stay for a while to be reunited with their children and to do some counseling and rehabilitation.

I think the pictures speak for themselves, so I'll let them.




The little girl on the floor next to me is named Shikoo (I have no idea how that's spelled), and she warmed up to me little by little- first unwilling to look at me, then playing a little closer, then eventually crawling into my arms and staying there for hours:

She is one of four children; her brothers and sister are also at The Nest. The two pictured below are Ken and Mary.
They hung out with me for a significant portion of the morning. One small surprise to me- my long, straight hair was a mystery all around, and whenever I sat on the ground, kids would clump behind me to touch it. But I always had Shikoo in my lap to look at and laugh with, so it was fine.