Processing the trip, 3 days later

I haven't gone through many of our photos yet. Still recovering from jet lag, catching up on stuff around here, and letting my brain process everything that we saw and experienced. My computer hard drive is slow and should have been upgraded before our trip; now I have come home with 700 pictures (plus Zach's) and my computer is even slower. So I am taking it as a sign that I need to just take a little time to let everything process. The pictures will be there, and I will be able to sort through them when my brain is a little less tired.

In the meantime, I am beginning to think about everything that the trip meant. Zach and I were given several African outfits, and as I wash and fold and even iron them (so they can be stored nicely folded, as they were given to us), I have to say that I feel a little sad. These beautiful outfits with their bright colors and happy patterns are so much not a part of our reality here. We live in a world that is so much busier, so serious. As I put these clothes away, I feel like I am putting away a very special piece of our lives. I want to make sure that it is not too inaccessible, and that I can pull it out again. Or even, I guess, not put it away at all.

Also experiencing a bit of reverse culture shock of sorts. Went to Sunflower Market today and was marveling at the bounty and the variety that is at our fingertips. We live in a world in which we are seconds between desire and satisfaction. (Those yogurt covered pretzels look good? Buy them! Kiwi from Hawaii? No problem! Organic packaged mac and cheese? Oh good, and it is even on sale!!) I walked through the aisles a bit daunted by all that is available to us. In the checkout lane as I prepared to mindlessly spend $50 on groceries, I saw a sign for charity:water (1 in 6 people in the world don't have access to clean water). Struck me as so odd that we can so carelessly spend money on our own frivolities when so many people don't even have what they need to live in anywhere near the comfort that we enjoy so casually. Clean water? In Ndindory, every last bit of water that they need in the village -- even for the cattle and sheep and goats -- must be pulled from a well. The wells are 30 meters deep, and in the dry season they have to pull from even deeper. When we were in Ndindory, I marvelled at the depth of the well. The men who were with me laughed...they said, "Suzanne, you think this is interesting. For us, this is our life. We don't know any other life other than the life of pulling water."

So the picture on this post is of a boy in Ndindory. He is proud of his very first ever crayon picture. The kids in this village had never before seen crayons.