Fall In Africa

I woke up this morning thinking about Halloween. That’s how cold it’s become. The chill in the morning is brisk and I wake up knowing I’ve been cold the entire evening. It’s fall weather here in Africa.

We’re out of the rainy season. I was in the garden with four students yesterday and they said the rains were finished, end of story. When I asked how I knew, they said, “That’s what the old people say.” We transplanted some bell pepper plants (does that work?) and the students think they will be doomed without our manual watering. We surveyed the rest of the garden, which Scott has mainly been responsible for, with the just planted fruit trees – mango, lychee, orange and papaya. The garden has become quite expansive with new beds of onions, several thriving beds of tomatoes, sunflowers, sweet potato, cassava, barely there (but there enough) eggplant and broccoli, Chinese cabbage, all kinds of squash, newly sprouted pumpkin, carrots that the students will eat from the ground and get reprimanded by Scott for (not for simply eating them, but for the fact that the students doing most of the carrot pilfering haven’t been the students working in the garden). Even the corn and okra have survived after being munched on by dikdiks, goats, and whatever else got through the old fence. We looked over the school garden and all the hard work that’s gone into it, and wondered what would survive.

After having a fairly good day at school, being in the garden with those few students – Suzanne, Samwel, Langoi, and Nemama – made it end on an even higher note. It was nice to get my hands in the dirt, which after being hoed and tilled by the students for the new beds felt moist and rich. It felt good to weed, to separate the intentional from the unintentional. It felt good to be quiet with the students, without feeling like I needed to entertain or teach, knowing the quietness stemmed from all of us working together.

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These aren’t photos from yesterday’s gardening experience, but photos of the students in garden throughout our time here.


Here is Suzanne during a successful harvest of zucchini. Her bed, which thrived early on, has since been badly affected by the rainy season. In the background of the picture you can see Scott with some other students.


Here are Edward, Saing'orie, and Lais building a scarecrow, which we no longer need. A five-foot tall chicken wire fence has since been installed.

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When I first sat in front of this computer screen this morning, my mind was blank of anything worthy to write, anything productive. Instead of giving up on writing altogether, I turned to an email that I had saved in a word document on my desktop that I needed to reply to. The email was from a friend in Wrangell (who’s actually not in Wrangell right now). Her email touched on many things, one of them being on the school garden and wanting to know more about it. While I write these blog posts knowing people I know and love are reading them, I always find my writing to be better and more honest when I’m writing to someone in particular. I think this is true for many people. Maybe that’s what dedications in books are all about – that person, dead or alive, near or far, who would always listen and eagerly read.