Exams!

We’re done (well, our exams for Kenya, at least!) I studied maybe ten hours cumulatively for my exams in Wildlife Ecology, Wildlife Management and Environmental Policy. Two days models of protected areas, Simpson’s Diversity Index equations, land use tenure regimes and reform, Kenya’s Vision 2030 (an overall improvement plan made by the government with some real pie-in-the-sky goals) and vegetation assessment techniques in relation to translating black rhinos. I felt almost through back into high school, as I studied my notes and chew on the end of my high lighter, mosquitos buzzing around the lamp. AP tests, SATS, mid-terms, finals- when was the last time I had studied so hard? High school I accepted nothing less than the best possible grades. I think I got a B+ once in an AP European History test and cried.

So as hard as I studied and as confident as I felt with these exams once they begin, my proudest accomplishment might be the satisfaction I feel know- even with my mistakes. After Wildlife Ecology, I found out I ha computed density (a question with a rather sizable point value wrong). Stupid mean distance- I thought it made more sense to compute it based on average distance to the selected species of woody vegetation, not all of the species. But, I think maybe the biggest marker of my growth here is I didn’t freak out when I got the question wrong. I didn’t punish myself. I didn’t compare to everyone who got it right. For me, that’s a big step.

Some much of what I’ve learned in Kenya isn’t on our syllabus. In reflecting on my time in this country (as it’s about to end), I’ve realized the Kenya attitude and way of life colors you as you live here, as surely as this sub-equatorial sun. I can’t tell you how many times I have heard the words “pole-pole, mama” here. “Slowly, miss.” Here, we wait on the rains, wait through Nairobi’s impenetrable traffic, wait for our teachers and wait for the internet to work (if at all). Most of all, we have to wait for ourselves. If you give yourself the time to slowly inch forward into this new culture and new way of thinking, you’ll be surprised at how it seeps into your veins and bones. Warming you, soothing you. Not in a flash epiphany or blinding moment of insight, but slowly you notice yourself growing– a millimeter at a time like Acaia leaves near the end of the dry season. If you extend the amount of patience to yourself that you have learned to have for everything else in this country, you’ll be surprised to see how much you can accomplish. How much it changes you. I know am.

Location: Kimana, Kenya