Life in Muhoroni comes and goes...

I am sitting in a Roman-Catholic church in the morning and all of a suddent everybody is standing up and moving to the front. I am not Catholic but the nun encouraged me to go too, so I can see what is going on there. There were several lines moving forward. When I saw only a few people in front of me I understood what was happening. People went to the front to put some money to the money collection box. But my pockets were completely empty! I had two choices: either I simply turn back when I´d get to the box or I would pretend that I had some money to contribute. I decided for the second option. I found it really funny that I had to share it with you.
Another hot day today. Right now three calves invaded the space in front of my door (I speak only in Slovak with the animals.)
The church started at 7 am. It was full. I left after two hours. The choir sang nicely but the common visitors didn´t sing a lot. There was a crucifix and instead of a European Christ with blonde hair and blue eyes I saw a black guy. (I have two pictures from Jesus´ life in my room and all of the disciples are black too.)
As the mass was in Swahili I could understand the phrases such as „God is the King“ or „Let us stand“ or „Let us pray“. But I was sad because I couldn´t understand more.
After the mass I dropped in the hospital to see how two pregnant women were doing. Still nothing although they told me how wide they were open. I also went there because I knew I would meet and talk to someone. There are 4 patients in the hospital at the moment. Yesterday evening one older woman, who I visited once, died. Life comes and goes almost every day here.
The hospital is really beautiful but empty. The employees are neat. I keep learning their names. There are only nurses here. I don´t know why they don´t have more patients...
Apart from the hospital there is also a hospice but it is empty too, and there is also a malnutrition centre for children. I will be in charge of that. Moms with the children come here once a week. On Thursday I went to see the center for the first time – I saw a 7-month old child with the weight of a newborn...
The moms get some food for the baby and they have to stay for education where they talk about various topics that are related to taking care of a child. On Tuesdays and Thursdays I will spend time working with people – that much I know. I would like to add to these activities by visiting communities where these children live.
In the neighbourhood there is a school that was started by Sister Agnes. I would like to go and see it but the 6-week holiday is starting so I will have to wait with teaching till January. The only children I meet are on the streets. They look at me as if I were a ghost. The twins from our neighbour´s house start crying when they see a white face. I have to say I miss children a lot.
Swahili can prove useful but I live in a region where most people are from the tribe of Luo and as one Luo told me today they are one of the few tribes that do not speak Swahili. So I am learning the language, Dholuo. Not everyone is Luo but even those that are not can speak Dholuo – they adapted to the situation.
Some expressions are easier to learn than others – for example „oriti“ (sounds similar to Slovak variation of „Go to hell“) – meaning „good-bye. We have a similar expression but we use it to send people away at some special occassions...
I spend a lot of time alone or in the hospital. I went for a walk through the village several times – to buy the vegetable at the market. I try to be outside as much as I can before it gets dark but it is not possible to be outside till three because of the heat.
Yesterday we were in Kisumu. The journey takes something more than an hour. The country is beautiful on the way there – lots of hills and fields. In Kisumu we stopped at the restaurant next to Lake Victoria and we enjoyed some roasted fish, of course, we ate using our hands. People use the lake literally for everything. While we were eating people were passing by wrapped in different things – watches, cars, toys, batteries, locks – that they were trying to sell.
The hardest time comes in the evenings when I am alone. I keep asking myself what I am doing here. I have a hope that one day I will find out... It might be too soon for that yet.