Perfect Morning to End the Week With

By 8am, three separate events that could have individually each made my day happened…

As I was walking to the edge of town to begin my run, the gentleman that I always see at the fruit stand that greets me in Kikamba rode past me on his bicycle, veering across the two-lane road as he turned to greet me and confirm that I would greet him last as I passed on my run. Upon arriving at his fruit stand not more than 15 minutes later, I exchanged greetings with him and his family, explaining (in the best Kiswahili I could) that I was only running a short distance this morning but trying to go faster than I usually do. Upon sharing the traditional pole (“sorry”) when I told them Nimechoka (“I am tired”), he offered me a free packet of energy powder (glucose, basically pure sugar I think) to help me. This was such a kind gesture from someone who probably barely makes a living as it is- yet he did not hesitate to give me this gift. That was the first heart-warming event of my morning. After saying goodbye, I assured them Tutaonana tena (“We will see each other again”).

A little further up the road, on the return stretch of my run, a little bare-footed girl was starting to cross into the dirt ditch off of the paved road. I was running on the other side of the ditch along a dirt road that runs parallel to the pavement. So I stopped and tried to ask her in Kiswahili Unataka nini? Unataka mimi kupata ingine kwa wewe? (“What do you want? Do you want me to get something for you?” at least this is what I was trying to convey…). She stared at me blankly, proceeded to cross the ditch, and reached up, holding my hand as she continued on her walk to school… It absolutely made my heart melt. So I have always adored children, but this little girl- who probably owns few more clothes than the tattered school uniform she was wearing- undoubtedly won my heart over the second she grabbed my hand. She acted like it was the natural thing to do in that situation and she will never know that this simple gesture meant so much to me. Upon seeing me pause my run and begin walking with this girl, a group of school children who had been walking a little ways behind, ran to catch up and walk with us. In the few minutes we shared together before they departed at the school driveway, I learned that they were going to study their favorite subject (science) today and they also enjoy learning math. Priceless interactions.

So upon arriving back to my home, I stopped by the duka (“mini-shop”) across the street from my house where I buy milk every morning. Lately, I’ve also been purchasing my eggs from Raila, the lady who owns and runs the duka. But the past few days, she has not had any eggs; I asked her if there were eggs this morning, unfortunately hakuna mayai (“there are no eggs”). I told her I would return to buy milk after washing up from my run. About 20 minutes later, I hear a knock at my door…and it was Raila with 3 eggs! She had not only gone to get me eggs, but she even brought them to my house. I did not have enough change, so I gave her a large bill and told her I would come to her duka to get the change and purchase milk in a few minutes. Ten minutes passed and I had another knock at the door…it was Raila again with my milk and change! I could not stop smiling at these kind gestures. I told her I still wanted to buy bread, though, so we walked back to her duka together and I tried to explain that I was going to make French toast and would bring her a piece to try. I felt like it was the least I could do after she had gone out of her way, unasked, twice for me just this morning. [The other morning when she did not have eggs or milk at her shop, she walked me down to another store to purchase these things.] So after cooking up my breakfast, I took her a piece of French toast with some of my maple syrup concoction on the side for her to try. I also looked up the Kiswahili words for toast, bread, eggs, milk, cinnamon, and syrup so I could explain to her how I made it. I haven’t returned to get my dish back from her yet, so I have not heard what she thought of it, but we will see! Looks like my culinary contribution to Makindu might be something with an explicitly non-American name…how ironic is that?