Learning, Prayer, and Women<---God must have been a....genius...pardon my language this time...

April 22nd,

My gosh these kids are so much smarter than me in so many ways. Although a lot of my youth was spent in Mexico where my grandmother and mother washed most of our clothes by hand apparently NOTHING stuck. Today I decided to quit putting off laundry before I have nothing left to wear. I already have an entire country staring at me when I walk past them, I don't need them calling me chafu as well. (chafu means dirty in swahili). Other words I've learned in swahili (forgive my wretched spelling....thank you american school system): Habari yako :How are you
Nzuri - Good
Nyadji - How are you (I believe this is slang)
Poa - (Good - slang)
Ishirini na tatu - Twenty and three...my age (as I'm typing this one of the kids sits next to me and corrects my spelling haha...everything here is a lesson.)
Asante - Thank you
Asante san - Thank you very much
Kuja - Come here
Ndiyo - Yes
Hapana - No (I find myself saying this a lot to these curious wonder-filled kids...they love my stuff)
Mama yako a mi ni pea - My mother gave this to me (Referring to a rosary I've worn around my neck since I left home. My mother handed it to me the last time I saw her and said "I know you don't pray much anymore, but keep this with you"...I listen to my mother much more often than I would ever allow her to know. I do find myself praying though and oddly enough it's for different reasons than I would have imagined. I pray for the safety of my loved ones...probably most of you reading. I pray in acceptance of the fact that I have very little control over most things and for the things I do have control of...I pray I always see the good in people, regardless of the inevitable disappointment with most. I pray that regardless of my frequent urges to take the easy way and leave collateral damage along the way to my own yearnings that I remember how much more fulfilling it is to do the right thing. I pray that I know what the right thing is...and If I don't...I pray that I always do everything with good intentions in this more often than not confused heart.

I apologize, I digress. Then again, this is my blog and for some convoluted strange reason I will never understand, you as the reader are interested in what I say. I'll be honest though, I am in no way pressured to make this interesting for you. I can only hope it will paint some sort of picture for you. I apologize that it will never do it justice. This place is like something out of a dream. I'll spend some time in the near future describing it. For now let me get back to my embarassing admittance; I'm absolutely awful at doing laundry by hand. I asked my friend here Katy (from the UK, here as a volunteer) to help me out and as we were sitting there doing my laundry, this little girl who doesn't speak a word of english began dipping her hands in my bucket and wringing out my clothes... in a much faster and more effective fashion than myself. She left after a few minutes and I'm fairly certain I heard her laugh at me. I continued by
myself for a few more minutes when suddenly, as my luck would have it, it began to rain....HARD...and of course my stubborn ass proceeded to do my laundry. I swear, this fucking pride of mine will be the death of me. I finally give and drag the buckets of my mess up to a place hidden from the rain. Finally one of the girls at the center, Sharon, must have felt bad for me, asked me to step aside and did what would have taken me hours in a matter of minutes showing me the proper way to not be an idiot. Women, even here find some way of humbling me. One thing I could never live without. I think thats one thing I truly miss, the scent of a woman.

Al Pacino in Scent of a Woman describes them in the most crude and poetic way imaginable. I could never do it justice so I'll leave you with this.

"Women! What can you say? Who made 'em? God must have been a fuckin' genius. The hair... They say the hair is everything, you know. Have you ever buried your nose in a mountain of curls... just wanted to go to sleep forever? Or lips... and when they touched, yours were like... that first swallow of wine... after you just crossed the desert. Tits. Hoo-ah! Big ones, little ones, nipples staring right out at ya, like secret searchlights. Mmm. Legs. I don't care if they're Greek columns... or secondhand Steinways. What's between 'em... passport to heaven. I need a drink. Yes, Mr Sims, there's only two syllables in this whole wide world worth hearing: Pussy. Hah! Are you listenin' to me, son? I'm givin' ya pearls here. "


on that note, if I continue this entry...I'LL need a drink...please excuse me while I take a cold shower...