
Today concludes February. The short month. The month that can never quite make it to 30 days. The month that falls short.
Tales from Ryan and Heather Murphy, two teachers at Africa's best American school



We’ve passed the half-way point of our home assignment now. People have been asking us—almost from day one stateside—if we missed Africa yet. While we can’t give an unequivocal “yes” to that question, we’ve had plenty of pangs of homesickness. Homesickness for that other “home,” the one over there.
My first one came a month after our return. I was showing the new Rift Valley Academy video for the first time to a church, and I found myself nearly crying. It truly took me by surprise. I had another twinge during our school’s basketball season; I really miss coaching. A few weeks ago my friend Mike sent a picture of my language helper building a garden cage to keep the baboons out, with his six-year-old son perched next to the architect. And I even miss RVA for its trials. I wish I could have been there for the challenges and victories of the H1N1 outbreak recently. Weird, I know, but we love the good and the bad about our homes.
Last night, I had a wonderful experience. My friends Ray and Deni know a Kenyan immigrant who is my age, and she invited the three of us over for a Kenyan meal. Her brother was also visiting from Kenya, and between the meal (githeri, sukuma wiki, chicken stew, and rice), the conversation (talking about our shared knowledge of Kenya and their experiences of immigration to America), and the language practice (they were Kikuyu, the very tribal language I am learning!), I felt right at home. I can’t tell you how refreshing it was to taste Kenya again, both literally through the food and figuratively through the leisurely meal.
(The picture above is of the Kenyan rugby team. Our hosts are going to watch Kenya’s team play in a Las Vegas tournament this weekend.)
