Embedded Files
Greetings, friends!
I am writing this as I prepare to leave Kenya, knowing I am leaving a part of my spirit behind, in a land I only dreamed of visiting, and with people who have changed me forever. Most of all, I write this from a place of deep gratitude.
Over the past 72 hours, I have found much for which to be grateful. I begin with our partners at Kenyatta University: Caro, Carol, Irene, Eric, Mildred, Margaret, Babusa, and the Rombolo Dancers and their leader Barissa. To witness the extraordinary work, care, and dedication that went into preparing for our visit was humbling. They took care of all the logistics to ensure that we not only experienced Kenyan hospitality, but that we felt cared for, welcomed, and fully part of their family. From comfortable accommodations to shared travel, to learning experiences and even negotiating at the markets on our behalf, their generosity was constant. I am truly grateful for Prof. Joseph Ngeranwa, Ag. Deputy Vice-Chancellor of Research, Innovation and Outreach at Kenyatta. We had a wonderful opportunity for a courtesy call and to envision how we can expand our thriving partnership. Without equivocation, I can say that I've gained not only professional friends, but lifelong friends.
I also extend deep gratitude for the way this experience has helped me learn to live with conflicting experiences that, at times, are both heartening and perplexing. During my time in Nairobi, I began to learn to live with the questions, “What is my right versus what is my responsibility, when shopping at the Maasai Market?” I have the right to negotiate, but, “What is my responsibility to a fellow mother seeking help?” I learned to dwell with the tension between the unmatched beauty that you find in Nairobi and, at the same time, I left with difficult scenes and images that will forever change me. How does one reconcile exquisite beauty with deep-seated systemic pain? This reconciliation will last well beyond this visit and remain part of my life’s work.
Above all, I hold tremendous gratitude for Drs. Jalloh and Breitwieser, and their willingness to allow me to join their ‘Hollins Goes to Kenya’ adventure. To be a part of the class was to be a part of a family. Ameena, Angel, Bagby, Faith, Hazel, Izzy, Kyra, Madison, Melanie, Ny’Ree, Sylvia, and Yuzuki, in our brief time together, I observed your growth, your deep humanity and care, and your leadership. When we had a formal audience with the KU Deputy Vice Chancellor, you took it in stride and represented yourselves and Hollins beautifully. For 72 hours, we laughed together, danced together, and gasped together. You were the midwives to my rebirth and African naming, Nalika.
But most of all, we allowed ourselves to love one another in a land, in a time, and in a community where our hearts could leap with both joy and pain. We extended grace to one another as we tried to decide where we would land on a particular contradiction or question. We shared care with one another and, as our eyes met, we chose humanity, love, and compassion above all else.
I have changed. And I am grateful for that.
In our Swahili class, we learned the word shikamoo, which is how one greets an elder. It literally means, “I touch your feet.” While many who read this may not be elders, I feel that is the appropriate greeting with which to leave you. I am proud and honored to touch the feet of our partners at Kenyatta, of the people I encountered on the street, at the market, and in the park, whose names I will never know, but who forced me to ask deep moral and ethical questions. And I sit at the feet of the faculty and students in the class. I am so proud to be your president.
I leave you with peace, joy, and hope,
Mary Dana "Nalika" Hinton
Google Sites
Report abuse