Learning How to Sit

A big part of Kenyan culture is just sitting. I say “just” from a Western perspective, when really it is so much more than that. In such a communal culture, people value spending time together. For the mamas and their girls, the days are filled with such strenuous labor and never-ending demands, that a few minutes spent sitting and talking has been well-earned. For the men, many of whom spend the bulk of their day watching the town and discussing the comings and goings (especially now that they have a mzungu—me—to talk about!), this is their primary occupation. Decisions are made, consensus is formed, ideas are exchanged, and progress is achieved all through this seeming inactivity. The foundation of any town here is its inhabitants’ art of sitting.

This is something our cross-culture trainers tried to get across to us throughout training. For most of us volunteers, however, it’s not something that sinks in right away. To understand and see the value of sitting, having grown up and been employed in the US, takes some time and practical experience. Even after having it drilled into our heads for two months, and then reminding myself every day for another month, I still find myself frustrated at coming in to the office every day to…just sit. I bring my computer and do my own stuff, but by lunchtime I have this creeping sense of guilt for not doing anything “productive” for the co-op. This is compounded this week by my supervisor and the rest of the staff running around to prepare for a huge audit next week by our Fair Trade certifier. In the midst of that hustle and bustle, it takes everything in me to keep still and believe that there is value in learning the art of sitting. Pole pole (slowly slowly) is how things work in Kenya, and pole pole is how I will learn to adjust to them; for now I will rein in my guilt and pretend to be content while I sit.