I'm yet again in the internet cafe (obviously) and I've just finished writing my fifth English exam (I'm doing it on Wednesday today in an attempt to free up my time on Thursday and give me another day to visit the orphanage). It might sound stupid and exaggerated but it broke my heart a little to write 'ENGLISH EXAM - WEEK 5' at the top of the exam. When I started the weekly exams I had nine weeks of teaching left and I'm on week five and I have no idea how time went so fast. I'm flying back exactly five weeks today and although I am so looking forward to seeing all my family and friends, and eating my Nan's apple pie and playing with her dog, I don't know how I'm going to be able to leave. The kids are like my children. To have to go and know that if they get into trouble of any kind then we'll be powerless to help is horrible.
Teaching's still going well; the teachers are frustrating me slightly in making my lessons completely unpredictable by taking the ones I'd prepared to teach and giving me ones I'm completed unprepared for, but everything's working well. They actually seem to be improving, and I'm so proud to say that the worst students in the class are getting better because they know they can come to me for individual help, which the Kenyan teachers never give. I did a lovely creative arts lesson with Standard 7 today - they cheered when I came in the classroom and we sat outside in the sun for an hour, piled up with colouring pencils and paper, and drew the hilly crater with the school in the foreground. Quite aside from the kids, it was a brilliant way to sit and draw for an hour! It felt like things couldn't really get anymore perfect, with my toes in the grass and the kids laughing at the chicken that wandered through the middle of us.
Dave's been at school with me everyday, and managed to pick up some maths and P.E. lessons. I was impressed at how quickly he worked out how you need to speak to the kids to get them to understand and he did really well. Then on Saturday, we piled all nineteen of the St. Stevens children into a matatu, dressed them in adorable little swimming costumes, and took them swimming for the first time at Gracelands. It was amazing to see their faces - I think it was the poshest place they'd ever been and they couldn't quite believe it. They loved the water, constantly splashing each other and laughing, and the playground too - I'm not sure they'd seen swings or a roundabout before and they were SO excited. We bought them all chips for lunch and had brought along brightly decorated biscuits from the bakery for them :) You could tell how grateful they were because the next time we went to the orphanage they were even happier than usual to see us, and even more keen to spend time with us. I lay on their bunkbeds with them talking in kiswahili and making them laugh by the fact that I could tell what they were saying about me!
Other good things were Annie and I wandering around our area on Sunday and bumping into loads of kids from school, all dressed in their Sunday best and looking so smart and lovely, and chatting to them whilst on our giant circular walk, and also talking to a 14-year-old boy at Pistis who was insanely intelligent and knowing, talking to me about everything from God to Kenyan politics to the film industry. The kids here are immensely clever - this boy is only allowed to watch T.V. once a week and has no access to newspapers or anything like that yet knows so much about what goes on in the world.
Dave left this morning and I've spent the day at school, then running many many errands in town. And now I'm going to go, and buy a mango, and be happy in the chaos and smiles-despite-everything that is Kenya.
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