ML

My friend Marie Louise (ML) said something to me this morning that got me thinking: Simmie, you are educating your staff through your children. I have known ML, the owner of Whistling Thorns, for 6 years now.  We have developed a relationship out of respect for one another, and if I may, the mutually sick sense of humor we both bring out in one another.  She will openly say something so outrageous to me that others may bristle at. I roar with laughter. Oftentimes, what she says is not actually funny to others, in fact, it is downright offensive. But I understand ML and get a huge kick out of her. She calls it like she sees it and the way she snickers when she walks away after throwing a bomb is, well...hilarious. 

ML, from the Netherlands, has lived in Kenya for over 20 years. She and her husband came to Kenya on holiday and fell in love with the country. They went home to the UK, mapped out their return trip to Kenya, packed their Land Rover and headed back to Africa. I believe the trip took something close to 4-5 months.  They purchased the land which became the home of Whistling Thorns. A retreat from Nairobi was born.  Over the years, they expanded the property and became entrenched within the community.  ML is a fabulous story teller and a Geography teacher by profession. Her stories about Kenya and "my" community 20 years ago keep me riveted, almost begging for more.  Unfortunately, ML's husband passed on a holiday to Australia the year before I met her.  She has held down the fort ever since, a task I know has been very, very difficult. But ML has carved out a significant space here in our community, and beyond. I am happy and fortunate to know her.

When ML speaks, I listen. When she offers advice, I am all ears. Her stories about bringing electricity to our area only 10 years ago are amusing, explicit and vivid. She knows everyone in the area and beyond. She has befriended Ministers, Government officials, Kenyan Hoi polloi and the like, all of whom frequent Whistling Thorns. ML does not hold back. Oftentimes, I am hurting from laughing, literally bent over.  When the Minister of the Interior was killed in a tragic helicopter crash almost 2 years ago, ML was set back - she was very fond of this man. Despite her emotions, she was still able to recount the stories of this man coming to WT for a few hours, a night or a weekend. I will leave the details of these stories to your imagination.  

I have digressed.  ML knows my journey. In fact, she knows every detail, because she has seen me at my worst and, thankfully, at my best. She has been with me every step of the way - counseled me and celebrated with me. We have spent countless hours talking, brainstorming and sharing. We were chatting this evening about WWC. I mentioned a situation we had yesterday about a staff member taking food out of the home (stealing). I was not happy about this incident and jumped all over it.  In short, the situation was nipped in the bud.  While taking food out of the home and giving it to others (family members, for example) who need food could be viewed as a desperate measure, it is still stealing. It is stealing from the children and WWC.  "Oh, for God's sake" ML said. "You must persist with your staff and tell them: "Would you chew off your own arm? Tell them: if you would, then you are idiots. The business will fail and you will be out of a job. It's that simple. Cut the supply. Explain to them the consequences of this kind of behavior, because to them, it is not a crime. It is survival."  ML is right, of course.  When I discussed with the staff the perils of taking food out of our hands and putting it into the hands of others, that it will harm our system in place, greatly affect the children and ultimately affect the organization, they were shamed. It was a gentle talk, but effective. "Always remember one thing: you work for the children. We all do. The good news is, I want to keep us together, because we are a great team. I have huge respect for each of you, and what each of you contributes to this center. The more important news is, this home is owned by an American. Thus, the standard here at WWC is different than what you may be used to. What may be a violation to me may be standard procedure for you. What I view as extreme punishment towards the children may be an ordinary day for you. Because I am an American?  We are doing it the American way."  When I shared this conversation with ML, she said "Bravo". "Why don't you ask Mutinda to go speak to your staff? He gets it. He has lived this kind of nonsense right here at WT, and as a Kenyan, has learned very well, along the way".  Mutinda is a good friend of mine, and I will ask him to do just this. He is a gentle soul, and has been to WWC many times - with me, and on his own. He loves the kids, and really enjoys the staff. His words of wisdom will be very welcome and will go a long way towards educating our staff in a positive light, particularly in the cultural differences and expectations.

I woke up early to the magnificent sounds of very vocal and unusual sounding birds this morning. It was still dark out, and because I heard the footsteps of the Askari bringing coffee to my deck, I got up to see my last sunrise. It was a glorious and cool morning. The air was crisp and clean. After my first cup of this magnificent fuel WT calls coffee, I was ready for the day.  My last day. Seeing as Tony had not woken me up, as requested, to tell me if Jacinta had delivered her baby, I went ahead and texted him to pick me up. The kids had requested shanga (beads), while Pauline had asked for some soap and a few pair of shoes. No problem. The first few shoe vendors wanted me to give them double their asking price, because naturally, I'm a mzungu. Forget it. "Bei Kali". "That is too much." I could see the second vendor's mind spinning, as if to say "OOOPS, she knows Kiswahili." I walked off with 2 pair of shoes for Joshua and Thomas, pleased as could be with my purchase. 50% of the price had been knocked off. Next stop was Catherine, at the shanga store. Catherine and I are friends now. Going to her shop is not a simple matter or running in and out. It is a 2 hour visit. Tea, chatting, more tea and finally buying. My friend Anne showed up, which prolonged the buying spell. So be it.  The children are out of school November 14 through January 4. They need activities! Suffice it to say, they will be well equipped, between Anne and me, to make lots of jewelry:

 

When we finally got back to WWC, the older kids were bent on getting back out into the bush. "Sawa. One hour!!" They had their walking sticks, majii (water) and a huge dose of excitement. Off we went, with Charlie closely by my side.  It was a gorgeous cloudy day.  I love this time of year in Kenya. The skies are always threatening, yet they don't produce rain until the late afternoon. As a result, the scenery is magical. Rainbows abound! Shadows cover the savannah in an almost mystical way.  At one point we all sat down in the forest, while I explained the seasons in the US vs Kenya. "Which season do you you like the most, Auntie Simmie? Will you bring pictures back of America? Can we come with you? Will you teach us how to drive?  Why is our sky bigger? Does America have pollution, too?  What is the snow like? What do you mean the trees change color?"  This is one special group of children. I may sound like a proud mother, but....'tis true.  

I am really sorry to see this trip come to a close.  All good things must end of course, but this one seemed to dissipate though my fingers. Time just evaporated. We are in a calm and wonderful place. We are about to purchase the land - the deeds are clean, and we are proceeding. I will finalize this purchase from home. Despite our setback with the theft of food, I am confident this situation has been put in its place as we continue to move forward.  Another lesson learned, this time for all of us.  The children are visibly healthy, growing beautifully and extremely happy. Livingston told me today that he was so happy to be at WWC, and sorry that I am "leaving so soon." "I am just so happy I was here to meet you" I told him. As we were walking to the car, Tiff took my hand and said "Auntie Simmie, enda na wewe." "Auntie Simmie, I want to go with you". If she only knew how much I want her to come with me...... One does not turn off their instinct to love. While I may have developed the ability to put my emotions in check when it comes to the children, and be more thoughtful and perhaps more realistic about their futures with us, I cannot stop the love I feel for them. All of them. Love is what drives a passion, and this passion I have been blessed with is alive and real. It is exhilarating and promising. What we have accomplished in one short year is nothing short of a miracle. Every day it grows. Some evenings, after I depart from WWC, I stop the car, turn it off and just gaze at the scenery below. I take it all in, listening to the happy sound of children's voices, echoing below. I feel an enormous sense of pride, gratitude and overwhelming happiness. How did I get to this spot? What on earth did I do to deserve this?? Why me?  

From somewhere over the African continent, I am heading home. Home to my family, those who nurture this passion and allow me the freedom to pursue this magnificent work. There are no words to describe my gratitude. I know in my heart how blessed I am, and it only makes sense to give back a large piece of this fortune.


 With love and abundant gratitude to each of you, 

 Simmie and Eunice

"Children are the living messages we send to a time we will not see."  
                    Jon Whitehead, Founder of the Rutherford Institute