Recognizing Luxury (or, Om nom nom nom)

There is noise around the house again and it is both strange and awesome. It’s been so quiet around here for the past two weeks with the girls and Sr. Laurenzia gone.

But now they're back!

And ready for their photoshoot!

School started with the opening exams (yes, they have exams when they leave and when they return – isn’t that horrible) and the girls are practicing dances and songs to welcome the new sister to this community. (I really need to figure out how to spell her name properly.)

I’ve started eating dinner with the girls instead of the sisters so that I can spend more time with them while they aren’t in school. And let me tell you, these girls can eat. Seriously, the first night I was served a portion equal to what they usually have and I could barely get it down.

And I am a human trashcan.

I mean, I probably could have eaten that much when I was a kid (because I could eat forever when I was a kid), but now that is just too much food for one sitting. But it does raise some thoughts for me about the differences in how I look at food and how the people here look at food.

When I was a kid, I was a very picky eater. My mother can attest to this, I’m sure. For years I ate the exact same thing almost all the time (Kraft mac and cheese, peanut butter and jelly, and Cheetos were my staple foods – no shame). I could go to a restaurant and order a grilled cheese and French fries almost anywhere, including places that really shouldn’t serve grilled cheeses (Ole’s Tex Mex for one). Even now, I sometimes ask to substitute salads with French fries at places and make myself Kraft mac and cheese (with cream cheese instead of butter – I like to experiment).

But being a picky eater is a luxury.

My girls definitely like some foods better than others. Rice is far better than kideri (corn and beans) and they will always be excited about adding some avocado to their meal, but either way they are going to eat what they have. You can’t afford to be a picky eater because there is no guarantee that what you like is available.

When I was younger, I went to Dubai with my mother for my uncle’s marriage vows renewal. We stayed one night at a very fancy hotel and I didn’t want to eat a single thing that was on their menu. They ended up making me an animal (a swan, I think) out of ham and cheese, trying to find something I liked.

I think that instance demonstrates how lucky some of us are to be able to afford being choosy about what we eat. Having options is something to be grateful for. Some people, like my girls, don’t have that option – not really. At a certain point, being hungry means that you eat what you have regardless if you really like it.

The next time I go out to eat at a restaurant, or go to the grocery store, I will try to remember my blessings as I look at the many options afforded to me. Having my choice is a luxury, and it is not one that everyone can afford.

Interesting Stories of the Week:

• Sr. Pat finally left us to return to North Horr and she was pumped. We’ll miss her, but I’m sure she’s more than pleased to finally be back home.

Sr. Pat: "Get me out of here!"

• Friday evening was dance night for the children in the home and it was kind of like line dancing except way more intense and entertaining to watch.

Go hard or go home

• Also, the girls who went to the profession mass had to write compositions (in English!) about their experience. Guess who got to grade them? That’s right…ME!

There was a…little bit of red on the page.

Kiswahili Word of the Day:

• Nomino – noun (the secondary school girls wanted help with English grammar. It was…interesting to say the least)

Kwaheri!