Email: Blair Moorhead

Dear Friends,

I may have mentioned a few months ago that I am no longer in possession of a desk. Or a permanent office for that matter. Generally my days are spent in the library at a computer that is pretty much mine, but was reserved for library patrons before I showed up in Nairobi. At 4:00 p.m. every day I pack up and move over to the 9th General Assembly office proper while my closest colleague goes to class. (There are three of us in the Assembly office: my boss, a consultant (my closest colleague), and me, the intern.) I have to say that this is an ideal set up. I can’t imagine sitting in one place all day, and I love running all around the building. I’m serious. It’s nice not to be tied down. I can be creating Powerpoints presentations for the Assembly one moment and then creating budgets or writing funding proposals the next.

Another way I keep moving during the day is by walking around the neighborhood where I work. I start by walking past the petrol station, which is an exercise in not getting hit by the public transport vehicles that don’t always seem to care what is in their way whether it be a pedestrian, a sidewalk, or an enormous semi. Then I hang a left past a lunch kiosk which appears to serve rice, maybe some beans, sandwiches, and eggs. It’s a little mysterious what exactly is served there; everyone seems to be a regular so there is no need for a menu.

The street I walk on is in a residential area, and is sometimes shady depending on the intensity of the sun. My favorite part is the foliage. There is bougainvillea everywhere, as well as leaves of every shape and size—even some dark red leafy trees that I have never seen before and no one seems to know the name of. These red trees are found about 10 minutes into the walk and always snap me out of my daydream back to appreciating the fact that I have legs, that trees exist, and that I am blessed to be seeing what I'm seeing. It's a pretty lovely reminder to pay attention and be thankful of what is all around.

And in fact this desire to be free to give up a desk and not to stay attached to very much is becoming a trend in my life in general. I don’t like to be tied to things quite as much as I used to. For example, when I came to Kenya with my two suitcases, I remember thinking, “They told us we could leave all our belongings at our placements, but I can’t possibly return from Kenya without my red sweater.” I would still like to come to the United States with my red sweater, but it is not a matter of life and death—the way it seemed in August. I have not become unworldly in any sense of the word—just ask my parents about my ecstatic response when they say they’re sending packages—but maybe just slightly less worldly.

I do look forward to shopping at Target when I come home, and the idea of doing so with a Starbucks in hand is strangely exciting. But I also understand that people I know can’t even afford the 25-cent ears of corn sold on street corners at lunch time. In this knowledge, there is a definite perspective shift. Starbucks is not a necessity. I live down the street from what recently became a UN High Commissioner for Refugees building, and there are people who sleep outside it at night. (Did I really start this paragraph by talking about Starbucks?) You can’t walk by people sleeping on the gravel lawn as Kenya’s winter approaches and be the same person. You can be 99.9 percent the same person, I suppose, and you can outwardly seem just the same, but little by little exposure to new and challenging experiences changes who you are.

I never studied abroad in college; I went abroad for a school program one summer and that was it. I was very nervous to take that cultural-immersing leap; living in a foreign country for a whole semester seemed impossible. But now I see the importance of getting outside the familiar, because simply being in a new place alters your perceptions. I am so thankful for the chance to come to Kenya and be exposed to more of this divinely created planet. Thank you to everyone for keeping us YAVs in your prayers, particularly Olivet Presbyterian Church in Charlottesville, Virginia, for your kind letter-writing.

Sincerely,

Blair