Holy Week

This week things are kind of slow because it’s the week before Easter, and a lot of people have taken a holiday. It started with a Palm Sunday procession from a field to the Catholic Church, with dozens of school children sweeping us up in the crowd carrying their palms. Instead of it being a solemn event, the teenage girls surrounded us, asking questions like,”What country are you from? Do you speak Swahili? Do you have any sons?” When I asked if they were looking for  American boyfriends, they broke into peals of laughter. The Mass, while lovely, went on forever and was only half over after 2 hours so I snuck out the door early.


I have had the wonderful opportunity to practice singing with the student choir a few times. The sound of a 4 part choir harmonizing in Swahili does something to my nervous system I can’t describe. I was given the lyrics and recorded their voices. I don’t know what the words mean but I practice when I’m alone and it fills me with joy.

Since last Sunday afternoon was sweltering, I convinced Leigh and a friend to walk over to this hotel on the edge of town that has a swimming pool. For a glorious couple of hours, I actually felt comfortably cooled down. 


Leigh is climbing Mt Kenya this weekend so I’ve got a lot of solitude to contemplate the big wrap up next week. Now that people realize I’m leaving, I’ve been asked to do a couple of extra classes. I’ll prepare for those but otherwise relax in the little volunteer house listening to clatter of hard rain on the tin roof at night—without which, there would be no ripe papayas or mangos!

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