I saw Myself, the World and My Inherited Culture

My time spent in Kenya contained some of the best experiences of my life.

Walking out of the Kenyatta International airport I was blasted by a wave of heat and then blinded by the early morning sun. At this point I still had no idea what to expect.

There was a line of greeters and among them stood Bilha Azenga, the founder of the Bella Rehabilitation Centre and Integrated Community (ICDPK), with her daughter and granddaughter in tow. Three generations of women came to welcome us.

Working at the Bella Rehabilitation Centre was not my first time volunteering abroad but it was the first time I felt connected to the community and the students I taught. Learning students’ names is the easy part, what becomes difficult is not getting too emotionally invested in the work. Not everything you come across is positive and sometimes it can even be devastating; however, everything you witness and experience influences the person you hope to become. Tasks from walking through kijiji’s, riding a matatu alone, or attending church in a foreign land will all, inevitably, shape the person you become.

11194513_10153849666245760_9087316957526575138_oKenya taught me things about myself that I couldn’t have learned anywhere else. The way I saw myself, the world, and my inherited culture began to shift and reform. Living and working in a space where I was a visible minority quickly started to change how I understood identity. It was like an out of body experience; I was continually conscious of my skin colour and gender. It was eye opening to experience the reality that so many face.

My time working and living with the Azenga family allowed me to not only see the culture but to evaluate it. As a foreigner it is easy to walk into a new place and comment and critique how an individual or organization manages itself. Living with a host family significantly changed how I experienced and understood Kenya. We ate buttered bread and drank milky tea for breakfast and over dinner we ate ugali with our hands while we discussed politics and tribal tension, heartbreak, and parenting; troubles that seem to know no borders.

I left a sliver of my heart in Kenya.