News Ban

Vagabond has banned the news after some conversation with his nephew.

And Some Good News, for a Change

Hey, guess what!? Purgatorio is back!

After this post a year ago when I sadly said goodbye to Purgatorio, I checked back a few times, but finally gave up hope and hadn't visited in months and months. Just now I looked again, just because, and found out that Marc started posting again last month!

Carnival Time

Here's this week's Education Carnival to read while you get ready for the real Carnival. And yes, we do have time off for it. Don't you? (Don't be jealous - we didn't get MLK Jr. Day or Presidents' Day OR Labor Day.)

Pole Sana

This is the picture of the day at Reuters Alert Net. Kenyan women laid flowers on the ground after a peaceful demonstration in Nairobi's Freedom Corner. I read that many of the wreaths said "Love," "Peace," and "Sorry." I was hoping to find a photo of one that said, "Sorry," because that's such a Kenyan thing to say. Whenever you have any problem, however big or small, and Kenyans find out about it, they always say, "Pole," which means "Sorry" in Swahili. It's not an apology, but it's an expression of sympathy with you. I still say "Sorry" to people for just about everything, and so does everyone in my family. It sometimes sounds weird to Americans, who think you're apologizing and will often respond, "Well, it's not your fault."

I'm saying "Pole sana" - I'm so sorry - to Kenya these days.

Weekend

Well, I don't know where this weekend went. It seems as though it just began, and now it's over. I worked in my classroom as usual, but there were internet problems at school and I couldn't even get on my blog to correct a spelling mistake - yes, I know it's supposed to be "hallowed," not "hollowed," and it's fixed now. I didn't even look at this week's Saturday Review of Books until this evening. At home, our internet connection wasn't working at all, but oddly it worked fine when we switched the computer on this afternoon.

My unreachable spelling mistake, which I could look at but not repair (kind of like an itch you can't quite get to), was clearly not the most important thing going on in the world. Tara had a baby in the hospital with meningitis (I'm so glad to see she's doing better), things got worse in Kenya, and assorted bad things happened all over the place.

Just as well I couldn't get online.

Eating Local or Buying Kenyan

I just read a very interesting post from Nairobi about how the whole eating local movement could damage economies in third world countries. I posted Steven Hopp's response to this objection back in November but I'm not fully convinced by what he says.

Poetry Friday

This is the fourth week that I've put up a Poetry Friday post about Kenya. The first week, it was the national anthem of Kenya, complete with the music. The second week, I linked to poems about Kenya from blogs. Last week, I thought about poetry for refugees.

This week, here's a poem from William Stafford.


Untitled

This is the field where the battle did not happen,
where the unknown soldier did not die.
This is the field where grass joined hands,
where no monument stands,
and the only heroic thing is the sky.

Birds fly here without any sound,
unfolding their wings across the open.
No people killed – or were killed – on this ground
hallowed by the neglect of an air so tame
that people celebrate it by forgetting its name.


Today is an international Day of Prayer for Kenya, so please join us in praying for this beautiful country and its beautiful people.

Pray for Kenya

Tomorrow, January 25th, has been declared an international Day of Prayer for Kenya. Please join Kenyans and friends of Kenya around the world in prayer.

Wednesday

Here's this week's Carnival of Education.

Carnival of Children's Literature

Here's the January edition of the Carnival of Children's Literature. This month's theme is Book Awards.

Saturday

I worked in my classroom this morning and then we had a staff cookout in the afternoon, which was relaxing and fun.

Here's today's Saturday Review of Books.

Poetry Friday Round-up

Today's Poetry Friday Round-Up is here.

Poetry for Refugees - Poetry Friday

Last week I posted a link to a blog post telling about someone going around a refugee camp in Nakuru, Kenya, and reciting poetry to the people there. I have been thinking about that all week, and wondering what kind of poetry would be comforting to refugees.

Garrison Keillor writes, in his introduction to his anthology Good Poems for Hard Times, "The meaning of poetry is to give courage. A poem is not a puzzle that you the dutiful reader are obliged to solve. It is meant to poke you, get you to buck up, pay attention, rise and shine, look alive, get a grip, get the picture, pull up your socks, wake up and die right. People have many motives for writing..., but what really matters about poetry and what distinguishes poets from, say, fashion models or ad salesmen is the miracle of incantation in rendering the gravity and grace and beauty of the ordinary world and thereby lending courage to strangers."

One poem that came to my mind immediately was Emily Dickinson's "Hope is the thing with feathers." Here it is:


Hope Is The Thing With Feathers

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.


I don't know, though - I think you'd get some funny looks if you recited this poem to people who had just been chased from their homes.

This one seems to fit, when I think of so many people killed for no reason in the past couple of weeks in Kenya. Many of them never had much in their lives and worked hard for every bit they had. But it's not exactly comforting:


To The Dead Poor Man

Pablo Neruda

Today we are burying our own poor man;
our poor poor man.

He was always so badly off
that this is the first time
his person is personified.

You can read the rest of it here. There used to be a link where you could hear it read, but it doesn't seem to be working right now.

Eighty percent of Kenyans consider themselves Christians, and that's why I think this poem would be appropriate:


Light Shining Out Of Darkness

William Cowper

God moves in a mysterious way,
His wonders to perform;
He plants his footsteps in the sea,
And rides upon the storm.

Deep in unfathomable mines
Of never-failing skill,
He treasures up his bright designs,
And works his sov’reign will.

Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take,
The clouds ye so much dread
Are big with mercy, and shall break
In blessings on your head.

Here's the rest of it.

Really, though, the best I could come up with is the following, which I put together from many places in the book of Psalms. Of all the poetry that gives me comfort, the Psalms are the most reliable when things are impossible. I'm calling this "Psalm for the Refugees." I wish I could go to Nakuru, and other places in Kenya where refugees are waiting to see what will happen next, and read it to them.


Psalm for the Refugees

(from Psalms 69,70,71,77,80,85,88,89,90)

Save me, O God,
for the waters have risen up to my neck.

I am sinking in deep mire,
and there is no firm ground for my feet.

I have come into deep waters,
and the torrent washes over me.

I have grown weary with my crying;
my throat is inflamed;
my eyes have failed from looking for my God.

Those who hate me without a cause are more than the hairs of my head.

Let my prayer enter into your presence;
incline your ear to my lamentation.

For I am full of trouble;
my life is at the brink of the grave.

Be pleased, O God, to deliver me;
O Lord, make haste to help me.

Let those who seek my life be ashamed and altogether dismayed.

In you, O Lord, have I taken refuge;
let me never be ashamed.

In your righteousness, deliver me and set me free;
incline your ear to me and save me.

Be my strong rock, a castle to keep me safe;
you are my crag and my stronghold.

Will the Lord cast me off for ever?
will he no more show his favor?

Has his loving-kindness come to an end for ever?
has his promise failed for evermore?

Has God forgotten to be gracious?
has he, in his anger, withheld his compassion?

And I said, "My grief is this:
the right hand of the Most High has lost its power."

How long will you hide yourself, O Lord?
will you hide yourself for ever?
how long will your anger burn like fire?

Remember, Lord, how short life is,
how frail you have made all flesh.

Who can live and not see death?
who can save himself from the power of the grave?

Where, Lord, are your loving-kindnesses of old?

I will remember the works of the Lord,
and call to mind your wonders of old time.

I will meditate on all your acts
and ponder your mighty deeds.

Restore us, O God of hosts;
show the light of your countenance and we shall be saved.

Lord, you have been our refuge
from one generation to another.

Show us your mercy, O Lord,
and grant us your salvation.

Truly, his salvation is very near to those who fear him,
that his glory may dwell in our land.

Mercy and truth have met together;
righteousness and peace have kissed each other.

Truth shall spring up from the earth,
and righteousness shall look down from heaven.

The Lord will indeed grant prosperity,
and our land will yield its increase.

Righteousness shall go before him
and peace shall be a pathway for his feet.



A friend just sent me this blog post from someone else who was thinking along the same lines of Psalms for Kenya.

What poems would you recite for refugees, if you had the chance?

Education Carnival

Here's this week's Education Carnival.

Liveblogging the Crisis

OK, it's not exactly liveblogging, but Mzungu Chick has been posting very frequently from Nairobi and I for one have appreciated it. Thanks from this mzungu in a faraway land.

Kenya

Many kids in Kenya went back to school this week, where schools weren't burned. Here's a photo from Joseph Karoki's blog. He describes it as "Kenyan children of different ethnic tribes excited to see their friends on the first day of school."

I'm praying for Kenya, but it isn't always easy to know what to pray. That's even more true for the people there, where one's prayers are informed by one's political views, or by recent experience.

Three days of demonstrations are coming up starting tomorrow. I am afraid of what will happen. I read stories of what has already happened and I cry. I feel despair over what will happen in this place I love so much, to people who are innocent, who just want to live their lives.

And I don't know how to pray.

I'm praying for those kids, the ones who went back to school and the ones who didn't. I'm praying for the refugees, thousands of them living in fairgrounds and parks and churches. (How could this be happening in Kenya, so many are asking? Kenya hosts refugees from other countries, Kenya doesn't produce refugees.)

And for the political outcome - I'm praying for peace and justice, and for leaders who will put their country and its people ahead of their own ambitions. I don't know what will happen next, and I don't even know what should happen next. But God does.

Global Voices Kenya Page

Global Voices has put up a special page to cover the aftermath of the Kenyan elections, including an aggregator of the blogs mentioned on White African's list.

Saturday

I'm just about to go home after working in my classroom for a couple of hours. All ready for next week!

Here's the Saturday Review of Books for today.

Reciting Poetry to Refugees

I just read this touching story at the blog called What an African Woman Thinks about people helping out the refugees in Nakuru in any way they can, including reciting poetry to them.

Poetry Friday

Here's today's Poetry Friday roundup.