Hello

This weekend it struck me that Nottingham and Mombasa are not all that different.  We were walking along the streets in the city of Mombasa.  Now reading this you may think that  sounds idyllic but with two boys it is a mixture of moaning about the heat and the nearly there yet question featuring quite frequently.  However your senses are fully alive as there is so much that is so different from our city centre back home.  So many vibrant colours, different smells, incredible variety of people and the awesome relief of crossing manically busy roads and still being alive!

There was a lady sat on the pavement with a little cup to collect coins.  I looked at her and greeted her.  Wow, her face lit up with the most beautiful smile and an element of surprise that she had been spoken to.  This reminded me so much of a time in Nottingham when I had been doing a shift at the homeless drop in.  I greeted one of the visitors with a smile and a usual hello, how are you?  I was moved when he told me that I was the first person to speak to him that week.

I suppose I feel saddened that this is something that big cities world wide share in common.  Please understand I am not making a judgement here.  It just got me thinking this simple greeting didn't cost me anything, so why so many times have I just rushed past people without even a hello?

P.E lesson with a difference

Home school can feel a real hard slog at times.  Living in the same room where you do school can leave you feeling a little caged in.  Being parents and teachers to the same children can be challenging.  Our boys are great and work hard but occasionally our creativity runs low as does their concentration!  It all can get a little intense and we have moments of panic thinking our boys should be in regular school.  They need a class room with other children and energetic primary teachers with loads of great ideas.

Then there are other days when something like this happens...

I was on the beach digging holes with the boys when these gymnasts came along to do their training.  They invited the boys to join them.  They were the happiest gymansts we have ever met and the boys had a total blast... as did I!  I mean who wouldn't with some gorgeous men on a bright white beach on the indian ocean.  School is not normally like this. The boys will surely never forget this time of education beyond any curriculum.

Anyway back to the table for some literacy and times tables

The boy who wanted water (by John)

Even though we have been here a while now – every now and again something new impacts you. Life is a struggle for so many.   When driving in the city of Mombasa it is fairly typical for people who are begging to come up to the car at various points of the journey and ask for ‘something small’. The needs vary. One elderly woman who is blind is escorted by her daughter to beg, one skinny little girl asks for some coins. Some people approach the car in order to sell something.

And so it was last week on one of our trips when, as we pulled up to a junction two small boys, probably about 8 years of age approached the car as we were waiting in a queue of traffic. One boy held out his hand and asked for money – I didn’t have any for him. Then the second boy approached. He caught sight of my litre bottle of water and mimed to drink. I lowered the window down a bit further and gave him my bottle. He shouted ‘asante’ (Thanks) and we drove off.

I will never forget this moment. The bottle was half full of tepid water. His need was so desperate, so elemental, that it brought all my feelings of injustice and hatred of the causes of poverty to the fore. I don’t know his name and I doubt I will see him again.

I want to find him, ask his name and say ‘asante.’