going back

At breakfast this morning Eric showed us how to eat passion fruit- by sucking the seeds out (*one of the joys of being back at Pedro Arupe is the constant and diverse supply of fruit)...After breakfast, we went to visit St. Aloysius Secondary School (high school) in Kibera- one of the slum neighborhoods (and the very experience of returning to the slums, even though we hadn't yet been to this particular neighborhood, was challenging after spending a week out in the Villlage where life is incredible simple but protected)...We were given a tour by Jill- a teacher and the deputy to the headmaster- during which she showed us around the school and spoke to us about the history and mission behind what they are trying to do. We also visited a few classroms and got to speak with some of the students (*in a Form 2 class -10th grade- they asked us to sing the National Anthem and then sang theirs)...St. Aloysius opened in 2004 with the mission of responding the HIV/AIDS crisis, but in a different way from all of the Nyumbani projects. Specifically, the school caters to youth living in the Kibera slum (the largest slum in Sub-Saharan Africa, with about 800,000 residents), and while the students don't necessarily have HIV, in fact most of them don't, they are all orphans of parents who died from HIV/AIDS. In fact, part of the application involves providing death certificates for both parents. St. Aloysius is a Catholic school that brings together "at-risk" youth from all different backgrounds (there is a much higher proportion of female students because they are in much greater danger growing up in this area), providing college prep education. And while HIV/AIDS affects many layers of society, St. Aloysius was started based on the belief that education is the only outlet these youth have to breaking the structural cycles of marginalization that dominate their reality. And from the second the school opened, the students have bought in to this mentality whole-heartedly...

Visiting the school and getting to speak to the students was encouraging and inspiring. Because in the midst of this slum, where 800,000 people have been forgotten, marginalized, and ignored, here is something positive. Here is a place where people are refusing to see the residents of Kibera as any less human than themselves, a place where individuals are choosing to take the side of the poor and the oppressed. And the students are incredibly responsive. The motivation they have and the work ethic they show, the thirst for knowledge that drives them, and the understanding that education is their only way out, is truly inspiring. School runs from 8 in the morning until 5:30 at night, but most students show up by 6 in the morning and don't leave until 8 at night. And Saturdays are optional, but most students show up for the full six hours and beg the teachers to stay even longer. The students are even dissastisfied when they have to go on holiday breaks. However, this isn't the whole picture. And part of what made this visit so discouraging and disheartening for me was learning that this thirst for knowledge, this motivation, and even intelligence, might not be enough. In the United States we pride ourselves on the ideals of working hard, dreaming big, and ultimately believing that if there is something you want- a dream you have- and you are willing to work hard enough, you can succeed and make that dream a reality. This is far from the reality here. Every year 500,000 students sit the National Exam, which determines who has the opportunity to go to University, and each year at least 50,000 receive marks that make them more than eligible for a place in one of the Kenyan Universities. However, in the whole country there are only 10- including private and public- providing only 10,000 places each year. Therefore, at least 40,000 students, who are bright, motivated, and well deserving of a place in university, are turned away each year. And most of the time, these are predominantly youth coming from the underresourced areas, such as Kibera. So as hard as it may be to understand, the reality of most of the youth growing up in Kibera, including those who attend and excel at St. Aloysius is that even if they dream to be a doctor or a laywer one day, and they are incredibly bright and motivated, willing to work hard, they still will never be given the opportunity...I have no idea what the "answer" is to this problem, and I'm fully aware that I am powerless to "fix" this situation, which makes it all that much harder. But at this point, I'm just trying to accept the reality and to meet this people where they are, and to look for God's presence, glory, and light in the midst of it all. Because I know that these are the people He dwells most deeply in...And something that just keeps coming back to me this past week is a phrase I saw painted on a door last week: "Where there is life, there is hope."...

After lunch, we spent the afternoon on a completely different note, at BOMAS, which is an educational facility where many of the Kenyan triblal villages have been recreated in their traditional settings, for the purpose of educating others about the history and evolution of different Kenyan cultures. And although I was a little apprehensive about this before we went, and how it was received and thought of by Kenyan people, it ended up being a great experience, and I really learned a lot, including some about the Luo people- Fr. Charles' heritage...

We then returned to the Jesuit residence for dinner and cocktails (*or what the Jesuits call prannials, which in Latin means "before the use of fingers," the term used to refer to pre-dinner drinks). This is something we have done once so far and it's a great time to get to visit with the Jesuits living in the house here. I have especially enjoyed visiting with one older man in particular, Fr. Topo. Fr. Topo is originally from India but has spent the better part of his life living in Africa, primarily in the Sudan and Kenya...After a nice meal, we had reflection and it ended up being unlike any other night thus far on the trip. A quick debriefing on the day quickly turned into a reflection of slum life and eventually a discussion of social analysis and structural marginalization. Although there were some very positive parts of the conversation, I was frustrated and felt misunderstood and also didn't believe that many of the other students were being completely honest with themselves. However, after the larger group discussion, I got to sit down with Beth (one of the campus ministers from Le Moyne) and Molly, and the three of us had a very positive conversation and unpacking of the larger group discussion. Then Molly and I listend to Elias and spent some time talking again about the words, and I just can't stop thinking about how strongly and profoundly this song speaks to me. It evokes such strong emotions and captures so much of what I'm feeling yet unable to express or put into words. The song represents so much of the personal connection I have made here with HIV/AIDS and some of those affected, especially the children. And while it is incredibly painful, there is also something deeply cathartic and even healing about the music. It's as if it's a promise not to forget, not to walk away from this reality, yet it's also an outlet, and a way to sit with and live in the midst of it all, a way to keep hoping...