A Dominican Walk Through Kenya (Part 10)

Everyday Moments

The brothers here have a unique way of laughing and responding to jokes. For example, Br. Andama smiles and reaches back to give you a big high five right at the moment of the punchline. Br. Alfred resonates from deep down in de chest. There is really nothing to stop Br. Benedict’s laugh once he gets going, and Br. Kawooya has a voice that you can pick out of the whole room adding to the chorus of joy of the rest of the brothers.

One night after dinner, Br. Sese raised his hand to make an announcement, as was the custom. He described how he received a donation from a parishioner on his way home and decided that an effective use of the funds was to buy peanut butter from a local merchant. After such a detailed and hope-filled announcement, we expected to find a large wrapped case of peanut butter containers in the kitchen. Instead all we found was a small, unmarked container. After seeing the minuscule jar in the cupboard, the brothers suggested that he had simply received a free sample. We talked about this for weeks while making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and are still waiting to establish the “Steve Sese, O.P. Peanut Butter Foundation.”

One morning, Br. Alfred invited me for a run. O boy. Did I know what I was getting into? No way. But he was right there motivating me, as we made it up and down some of the hills of Kenya. Moving down the road, we began to chant just to think about something other than our burning calves. Let’s just say, my legs felt like ugali after singing and shouting all the way to the top of the hill. At least we can look back and laugh about it now.

One of the nights of Nyama Choma, Br. Kawooya was walking around with the bowl “popcorns” he cooked, making a sales job for each brother to take some. I don’t know why it was funny really, but it kinda became a thing, with Peter walking into the kitchen a few weeks later saying “get your popcorns brothers… get your popcorns.”

Have you ever been to one of those hole in the wall pizza places? You know, the kind with parmesan shakers, plastic laminated menus, the ballgame on the TV in the corner, and the family picture on the wall above the hallway to the kitchen. All the while, it’s the best pizza you tasted in the whole city kind place. Now, think of Augustine, and try to picture what kind of restaurant he might start.

On our first time riding the matatus on the way back from the Missionaries of Charity, we stood at the wrong part of the street, missing the stage. Finally seeing one of the bus lines which would take us back toward the Priory, Peter flailed his hands in the air. As the driver did not respond to his plea on the far lane of the street, Peter ran down the path until... boom... he was flat on the ground, now covered in dust, but otherwise fine. Let’s just say, we soon found the stage and laughed at our endeavors to call for the matatu on that rocky path. This was perhaps one of the most athletic feats involving a matatu until Peter and I were both let out at a stop which involved us immediately jumping to avoid a ditch. Matatus are certainly an adventure. As Peter remarked, “That wasn’t the crowning moment of my athletic career.” I replied, “Peter, let me ask you something… what was the crowning moment of your athletic career?”

As we were walking to the Missionaries of Charity, down the dusty road, the sun broke through the previously cloudy morning. Wearing a jacket, I put it in my bag, remarking to Peter that “Here, when the sun comes out, it gets hotter.” Peter charitably affirmed that statement while still trying to see where I was going with it. You know, I was trying to point out the fact that the atmosphere is a little thinner here, but I don’t think that came across. So, we repeated that phrase when it was sunny from time to time and laughed.

Hey, where is France? Is it North of Italy or in between Spain and Germany? As I was describing the geography of Europe to someone, pointing that France is between those two countries, Augustine quickly remarked that it is “North of Italy.” Did I mention that Augustine is Italian? Also, as an Italian, he makes excellent gnocchi. (I know from firsthand experience in St. Louis.) Well, I was describing to Fr. John what gnocchi is, while pronouncing it “gah-know-key.” So, Fr. John said, “Ok, so that is what you call ‘gah-know-key.’” You should have seen Augustine’s face.

On a car ride with me, Alfred, Kawooya, and Peter, Augustine volunteered to let us listen to his iPod. Well, the song “My Heart Will Go On” by Celine Dion was naturally one of the first to play. And Augustine gave us a performance that was...well…memorable. As Saint Augustine, the Bishop of Hippo, is known to have said, “He who sings, prays twice.” Here, our resident Bishop of Hippos was certainly praying with the voice God gave him.

Back at the start of the novitiate, I got a tiny watch. I didn’t really think about the fact that it was so tiny, until some of the brothers in my Province pointed out that it was, in fact, an incredibly minuscule time-keeping device. With the help of Michael Mary, I was eventually able to get a reasonably-sized watch, aptly sized for any dude. Well, I kept the watch around, and even showed it to some of the brothers in St. Louis. They too, thought it was very tiny. And the brothers here in Nairobi. Tiny. tiny. tiny. “Like a toy for kids,” said Andama. So, when Laizer, one of the gatekeepers at the Priory asked me if he could have the tiny watch, I gave it to him. On one hand, I hoped he would find it useful to know what time of day it was. On the other hand, the prospect of him carrying it to his buddies in the Masai tribe and having them comment on it just the same was too funny of a proposition for me to pass up.

In the end, funny events that emerge from daily experience are just that. They can be occasions of outrageous laughter with the brothers. So, for the challenging and tough moments, we had plenty of lighthearted ones in between.