ingoho (or chicken)

kwa heri (for now)

2008-08-21T04:06:00.000-07:00

As I am leaving Kakamega in 24 hours, and may not be on the internet until I reach America, this is the last post from Kenya. I promise to write up my last two weeks shortly, but for now, this is good bye. Kwaheri. Nitarudi, Mungu akipenda.
And Jambo, Amerika!

a crazy/pensive sunday

2008-08-15T22:52:00.000-07:00

14 August 2008
Well, I've definitely been lax with writing this week. But I've been taking it easy in other areas as well. I think I left you up-to-date on Saturday, so it remains to tell you about Sunday and about my week. The week may have to wait because this already looks to be a long post.
On Sunday I traveled to Malava with my co-workers Mirriam and Gladys to meet their mom. This journey ended with me walking the streets of Kakamega with a hen under my arm. But first, the trip. I was supposed to meet them at 9 at the end of the hospital road (the road I live on), but in true Kenyan fashion, they didn't show up until almost 10. I had a lot of time to observes the traffic (such that it is). I saw a man carrying 20 chairs on the back of his boda (the funny thing was is I was on the receiving end of this the next day. I watched matatus drive back and forth. I will have to bring a picture of one back, because there is no other way to explain matatus. They carry 6, 8, 11, or 14 passengers and are somewhat similar to the love child of a minibus and a minivan. They are usually painted white and yellow, but most of them have additional detailing and paint with references to pop culture or God. In Kakamega, there is a whole chain of matatus that say Xzibit on the back. I've even seen a Barak Obama matatu. But my favorite is a little maroon town service (6 passenger) that runs from Kakamega to Amolemba and just says "I ATE" on the back. It begs the question, "I ate what?".
While I was sitting at the end of the road waiting, I hear music and see a crowd coming toward me. The previous day I had been caught in the middle of a stampede of yelling, waving men while I was taking my boda-boda to work. I think it's the only moment where I have felt scared the whole time I've been here. But it turns out I was in no danger: the men were just coming cheering from the early-morning bullfights that the area is known for—I didn't know this, but Tom informed me later...apparently it's in the Lonely Planet guidebook?
So I see this crowd and her music and, wait a minute, it sounds like a marching band…because it is a marching band! Probably a 40-piece band marching down the road in matching white uniforms, waving a flag that says something like "Kakameg Corps". And behind come some more people including two wazungu. I think it was actually affiliated with some church in town, but I can't be sure.
So I'm still waiting, and I remember my new motto for Kenya: hakuna haraka, hakuna matata: no hurry, no worry.
A little bit later I hear my name called, and see Mirriam speed by on a boad, followed by Gladys. They're both yelling something like, "Bee! come on!" and I am seriously confused for an instant. But apparently they had hired a boda to carry me, because this guy stopped and waited for me to hop on. Today I am actually wearing jeans and a t-shirt for once because Mirriam says trousers iko "smart", but I still sit on the boda side-saddle out of habit, until we get to the speed bumps on the path and I dismount. I don't think I had ever straddled one before, which tells you how good I've been about wearing skirts.
After the bodas dropped us at the SomKen petrol station, Mirriam hired a town service to take us to Malava for the day. It's about an hour or so from town down the highway the opposite direction from Kisumu—toward Webuye I think. We get to the town, stop to get groceries at a little duka, greet some people Mirriam knows, I get stared at, and then we continue down the dusty dirt road to her family's compound. Unlike the house I live in in Kakamega, this one is a concrete box with an aluminum roof and no electricity. But like every Kenyan family I've met, there are no apologies, no complaints about poverty. They live with what they have, and make it the best place they can. Inside, the house is spacious, and the furniture is covered with crochet rectangles about 2 feet by 1 ft in a neon orange yarn. Even when the colors are eye-assaulting, I still know I will miss having so much color when I am gone.
First, I met the mama and some of the myriad kids that always seem to be around here. The youngest two were called Eric and Pamela, and I think they were Mirriam's niece and nephew, but I can't be certain. Mirriam's mother was a wonderful lady, but I think she spent most of her time in the kitchen preparing lunch. Tom had mentioned on Friday about how the women in his family cook over a three-stone fire or a low table in the dark kitchen hut all the time, and I have a feeling Mirriam's mama does just the same, because she is permanently stooped over.
First, we had chai and Blue Band sandwiches (margarine and bread). Since it is Mirriam and Gladys' permanent goal to make me fat before I leave (and they're running out of time), there was to be no refusing of food. I think I had 4 Blue Band sandwiches (if not more) and two cups of chai. By the time I finished the second cup, the big table had been cleared, although we ate sitting on the couches with sort of stool-coffeetables to put the food on. Nearly as soon as my second cup of chai disappeared, Mirriam began carrying out the dishes for lunch. Ay! So I was faced with a heaping plate of mchele, ndengu, and nyama to finish. They had also bought sodas.
By the end of lunch, my food total stood at 4 Blue Band sandwiches, two cups of chai, 500 ml of Coke, and a heaping plate of rice, lentils, and meat. Mirriam was unsatisfied with how much food I had put away, but I assured her that if I ate any more it would be an unpleasant matatu ride back to Kakamega. And I had to get back fairly quickly because I had a meeting scheduled for two to go over information for the boda-boda training on Monday. Shortly thereafter, we had to take leave, but not before we had taken pictures, said many goodbyes, and Mirriam's mother had given me a hen. I had a feeling this was partly my fault because I had mentioned my cock at the office. I tried to tell Mirriam I didn't need a hen, but she assured me her mom wanted to give me one: "She doesn't have anything to give you, so she's giving you a hen". I am reminded once again of how selfish we who have so much can be, while those who have little give it all away. Then we piled back into the matatu with a multitude of produce from the family shamba, one hen, and somehow the two children and Mirriam's brother. But it turned out that we were just taking them to the church so we could say goodbye to Mirriam's father (I never actually figured out if this was Gladys' family too or not).
At the church I got plenty of stares. I should mention that most churches outside of Nairobi are little more than a concrete or brick building, with grating at the windows (no glass) and benches. The multimedia displays and praise bands that have become so pedestrian in Western churches are conspicuously absent. I think that Friends Church (Quakers) of Malava may still be the most beautiful church I have ever been to. It's a hexagonal concrete building, with wrought iron grates at the windows. It's mainly open to the elements, but under a metal roof, and the concrete is formed like rafters to leave a sort of tall, open area under the roof. The worshippers sit on wooden benches facing a raised platform out of the concrete floor. It was just so simple and so pure, commonplace and unadorned, yet beautiful, the way faith should be. The only other church I have felt this way about is St. Paul's cathedral in London. It's someplace where you walk in and feel, this is a church, this is a place that makes it easy to feel something about God.
After bidding goodbye to the baba, we got back into the matatu and headed back to Kakmega. By this time it was nearly two, so I SMS Stella (the facilitator) to tell her I'm running late, but I arrive back a respectable forty minutes after 2. This is Kenya: hakuna haraka, hakuna matata.
There was no time to go home, so I tucked the somewhat disgruntled hen under my arms and walked off to town to meet Stella at her office.
When Stella let me in, it took her a moment to say, "you have a chicken". I explained to her and gave my apologies, but she seemed to think it was quite funny. Our meeting didn't last too long, so a little after 3 pm I began the walk home. I cause quite a stir. Imagine me walking the streets of Kakamega in jeans and a t-shirt with a hen under one arm! I heard a lot of whispers that contained "mzungu" and "kuku". When I got home, my mom thought it was hilarious, but she was glad to receive a good hen for our growing poultry operation.
For dinner that night we had kuku, again, but I'm starting to get used to it. Luckily, Gwen the hen was not on the chopping block (I need to work on mom letting me name them).
The rest of the week will have to wait.

in which a week goes by without a blog

2008-08-11T04:24:00.000-07:00

10 August 2008
Warning: long post. It's been an entirely hectic week, and I haven't felt like writing at all. I know I won't remember everything.
I had my grant-writing workshop for the management yesterday. It started almost 2 hours late, and there were only 6 people in attendance, plus two of the other FSD interns. My supervisor wasn't even there. But the workshop itself went really really well. I doubt myself a lot as a teacher, but I had done enough preparation that I was able to handle it. And we went through the different parts of the grant by applying them to a potential project that KES could do, and people were really involved in asking questions and suggesting ideas. I think it was so good that they now want to do the imaginary project we were doing. That was a really encouraging thing. One Monday I have my last boda-boda training, and then I am D-O-N-E done! I'll be spending the next two weeks much more leisurely.
I was really burned out at the start of the week, so I tried to take it easy, and mostly succeeded, but I still felt busy. I didn't go in to work much. Tuesday it rained from 8:15 to 11 am, and I couldn't get to the office. Then I met Brenna in town for lunch and a chat before we both went to work so she could assist me with the grant packet. Wednesday I didn't go in because we had a meeting for FSD and I had a bunch of errands to run in town. Thursday I was out of the office a lot because I met with Enock of ACCES to review the material for the grant. Friday I took most of the day off: I went to Kisumu with Alice in the morning to do some fabric shopping (her project is making bags out of a cultural fabric called a lesso that the mamas usually wear wrapped around their waists—their really beautiful, and we've all become a bit lesso obsessed). I went in for the afternoon because I thought I had a meeting with my boss, but he went off to Kisumu without stopping in, so instead I just finished the materials for the grant. On and off this week I've also been working on my departure packet for FSD—I can't believe that…it's so soon.
Outside of work I got to spend more time with my family this week. The kids have been out of school for almost two weeks, and Alvin got back from boarding school this week as well. Also, my host dad has been in from Nairobi for meetings of a school board he's on, so it's quite a full house. I feel like a little bit of a burden because the five of them sleep in one bedroom now since I have the other. And they've been so good to me. I've been inaugurated into the family this week: my mom is now ordering me around just like the others—I love it.. I brought them some loose-leaf tea from America as a gift—one hibiscus herbal, and another Earl Grey since those happen to be my favorite, and they've quite enjoyed it. Mom asked me where she could get some more, and yesterday she had me make some more Earl Grey for her. Every day since I got back from Kisumu a week ago we've had kuku for dinner. I thought maybe we were celebrating something, but when I asked my mom she laughed for a long time before she said there were just too many jogoo—cocks—in the henhouse and they were beginning to cockfight. Of six jogoo, four were destined for slaughter. Last night we started on the third, so there's still one to go. Luckily, I like chicken, although last night's was a bit tough.
Because I've been home so much this week, I've gotten to play with Garry and Betty a lot more. One day we played out in the back yard—hide and seek and a sort of variation of hopscotch. I have several mbu (mosquito) bites to show for it, but it was great. Maybe inspired by the unique chicken situation, they ply a game called cockfighting as well. Both players crouch on their calves and bounce up and down while batting at each other with their hands. After each bout, you jump from your crouch around in a circle once. It's quite hilarious to watch. Garry also likes to color a lot, and build with Legos. He's been drawing, working sums on paper, and one day we spelled out all the letters with Legos. He just likes to have someone comment on what he's doing.
Since Alvin's been home, we watch more Western TV. Apparently the first season of Heroes is on Tuesday nights, and yesterday I caught a bit of Smallville! This week I'm going to borrow some movies from Brenna for us to watch. He really likes movies, and we've had several conversations about them.
Also this week, I bumped into this great English guy in the cybercafé on Tuesday. His name is Tom, and he's a medical student here for six weeks working at the hospital. He's been able to hang out with us some this week, and I've been showing him the ins and outs of Kakamega. One funny side effect for us interns after being here for seven weeks, is we feel kind of territorial about Kakamega. When Alyssa sees other wazungu on Amolemba by her house, she wonders what they're doing on her stretch of road. It's also funny to see people and try to guess why they're here, or to be able to identify that they just got of the bus. The biggest part of culture shock I think for me will be going back to the Midwest and wondering what all those white people are doing there. I've been really inspired to get more involved with the international students on campus after this experience, now that I have a little sense of what they go through. I'm really hoping we have someone coming from Kenya or Tanzania so I can practice my Swahili!
I went to the market yesterday to take some pictures, but I still feel so much like I'm invading, even after I say, "Ningependa kupiga picha. iko sawa?" I now owe about half a dozen people prints, and once I do \I'll have some lifelong friends. I hope to go back on Wednesday, the other big market day, and take some more. I really want to capture the colors of the market to have with me when I go.
Last thing to mention, Friday nights are all-night prayer meetings at the corner church. It was really amusing to wake up at 4 am and find them still going, singing "Deck the Halls" of all things. Made me think of my two favorite roommates and their coincidentally similar love for Christmas.

in which we go to Kisumu

2008-08-04T04:15:00.000-07:00

4 August 2008
What a weekend! It was a little more wild and crazy than I’m used to, but fun and full. There is no chance I will remember everything that happened, but here's my best effort at an overview.
I got off work at 12 on Friday to run some errands before heading to Golf Hotel to say goodbye to Walker and James, who by now are back in the US. About 3 or so we went to the matatu stage to take one to Kisumu for the weekend.
The ride, as matatus go, wasn't bad: relatively fast and uncrowded, but I was sitting in the back seat again, which mean that I had little head room for my abnormally long torso. In Kisumu, we checked in to the Hotel Palmers, which was nice and clean, with friendly staff and enormous (king size) double beds. We rested for a little bit and then went to the Green Garden Restaurant for dinner, which was like an oasis in Kenya—real Western food and an extensive menu! Pizza, spaghetti, lasagna, cocktails, and SALAD!—I ended up ordering a Dijon pork that was delicious. We ended up just eating dinner and going back to the hotel for the rest of the night. It was a good night's sleep, on a mattress that was completely flat, but I still woke up before 7 the next morning. We ate breakfast at the restaurant, ran to the ATM, and then headed to the Masai Market for some shopping. I really wish I could have just bought everything—the crafts here are so amazing! textiles, scarves, soapstone and wood carvings. And we got to meet most of the artists, who were manning their own shops. Several of the booths were fronts for organizations who work with battered or disadvantaged women and children, so it was really neat to see what they were doing—some of the crafts are all from recycled materials—and to see the results.
After that, Angie and Joel went back to Kakamega, and the five remaining interns, all from my arrival group, dropped our purchases off at the hotel before heading down to the waterfront on Lake Victoria for some local samaki (fish). There's a row of "hotels" or restaurants on the beachfront where the locals go, so you know it's good and the fish is fresh. The samaki (freshly caught tilapia), mboga, and ugali were delicious and really hit the spot, but I do have a huge love for fish.
From lunch we headed to Jomo Kenyatta Park for the all-day reggae festival that was going on. It's worth noting that the reggae scene in Kenya is very different from the US—there are actually quite a few Christian reggae songs. The music itself was not fantastic—most of it was DJ'd. But it was really relaxing to just lounge in the park and take a breath for a few hours.
Before we sat down, I had an experience. Walking through the crowd, I felt something hit my butt, and turning around I saw a kid with a stick, who was maybe 12. When we got to a standing spot, I turned to Brenna and Jordan, and said, "you'll never guess what just happened". About the time I finished telling them, I got tapped two more times, and I turned to see the kid had followed me. Apparently I now had a Kenyan boyfriend. He just kept hanging around and was trying to dance with me to the music, but he only came up to maybe my shoulders. Brenna and Jordan were dying with laughter at this point, and I couldn't help but smile because it's too ridiculous, and this would only happen to me. Brenna gave him a little more encouragement, and I was just trying to stare him off. It was too funny. Thankfully, the rest of the time we were in the park, no one really bothered us except for a couple of adorable kids.
When we left the reggae festival, we went back to the hotel for a bit. Brenna and Alice took a nap, while Alyssa, Jordan, and I went out for a little bit. The five of us returned to the Green Garden for dinner and drinks to celebrate Brenna's and my birthdays. I had a large Margherita pizza (which happens to be my favorite). Everybody else shared food, but I ate the whole thing myself! We stayed at Green Garden for a couple of hours enjoying the atmosphere. Then we asked our waiter, who had been really good both nights we were there, where a good place to go after was. He recommended the Octapus Room, which had pool tables, foosball, and dancing. We took a tuk-tuk from the restaurant (we'd actually been traveling by tuk-tuk the whole weekend: having five people in one is really an experience) to the Octapus Room, and felt really silly when it turned out to be just down the block and around the corner. But it was definitely a safer choice to be in a vehicle rather than footing at night. When we got to Octapus, it was still early, so there wasn't much of a crowd, but it picked up as the night progressed. One thing that might surprise you all is that I love dancing, but I am so bad at it that I need a lot of encouragement before I will go. You're probably in shock right now, so take a minute to process that before you continue reading (yes, Jared, I dance…I'm not as uptight as you thought).
So we spent a lot of time dancing. Kenyan guys are a little bit pushy, but with four girls dancing together, they didn't really bother us much, and Jordan was there to come to the rescue when we needed it, which happened once. Several funny tings happened there. One, there was a guy wearing a shirt that just said "cancer sucks." I think I may have them made for CAC. Two, Jordan made friends with this guy named Edmund who turned out to be really nice and really cool. Three, as it got later, the entertainment showed up—in the form of a Rasta guy who danced, did acrobatics and juggling, and ate fire to Jesus reggae music. He was probably at least 40, had long dreads and a reggae headband, and was dressed in a polyester jumpsuit that read "RASKISS". Karibu Kenya. I'm still trying to imagine what he does for a day job. Well, after that had gone on for a good hour and showed no sign of stopping, we were bored with it and ready to leave. By the time we were stepping out of the tuk-tuk at the hotel, it was late enough that we were proud to have stayed up so late, since most of us go to bed at around 9 during the week.
It was so hot in our room, and we now had three people in it to cut down on costs (the bed was that big). With the mosquito net on, it was unbearable hot, and I was really regretting I hadn't brought shorts to sleep in. Then we turned on the fan—it was a little sketchy because it sounded like it would fly off the ceiling at the lowest setting—and we opened the window, and I was able to get to sleep, but it was probably after 3 am before I did. I still woke up at 7: Kenya has really helped me to be early to rise. We woke up, had breakfast, went to the cybercaf, headed to the Kisumu market for some last-minute shopping, and then gathered all of our stuff to take the matatu home. Thankfully, this time I was in a much better seat: I was able to put my bags on the floor and still have room for my legs. It ended up being the most crowded matatu I have ever been on. I'm so glad I had a seat, because if we had gotten into an accident, it would have been a disaster. At its peak, I think we had 21 people (three of them watoto, children) on a 14-passenger van. Talk about a clown car experience: 21 people and their parcels. The thing about matatus is that you can ride for the whole route like we did, but many people pick them up on the side of the road and get off two villages later, so you do a lot of stopping. And then there are the stops for police checkpoints as well. If you are on a really bad matatu, it can take twice as long: the ride to Kisumu wil be 3 hours instead of one and a half.
Still, we got home by one, so the trip wasn't too bad. I dropped my purchases at home and talked with my family, and then went to Amolemba to talk with Angie for a little bit. While the weekend was great, I'm still really burned out with traveling and working so much, and I needed to talk to someone for a little bit and offload. Talking with Angie was extremely helpful, and she suggested I take some time off this week to spend with my family now that the kids are out of school. Then I was able to spend the rest of the day with my family, and I got to bed right after dinner, forgetting to set an alarm, so when I woke up the next morning, I felt the happiest and calmest I have been in a while.

the boda-boda/micro-finance roller coaster

2008-08-01T03:45:00.000-07:00

30 July 2008
Today was a flurry of activity. Tomorrow is the first training for the boda group, so I had a lot of planning to do. I drew up an agenda for the meeting to set down the topics we should cover and made some paperwork for the members to sign. Tomorrow I am supposed to meet with Enock at ACCES to get his input on the packet. But first I have to have the packet together. Also tomorrow I have a meeting with Stella, who works for another local micro-finance organization called K-REP. We are hoping to arrange the facilitation of the group business training with her, hopefully for next week. Things are moving along so quickly! Looking back at my work plan, it's amazing how much has changed since that second week at work! To end the day, I met with my boss, co-workers, and the micro-finance person to go over the agenda and topics for tomorrow's training. My boss had some really good input about the order, and he suggested doing a needs assessment as well, which I am grateful for because it is really crucial to have the group's input and I had forgotten to include that overtly. The micro-finance person also received a list of the information she should have for tomorrow, so I feel like we are on our way to being prepared. There is still a lot to do before the meeting begins, and I have supplies and refreshments to purchase in the morning after my meetings. Today was an extremely productive day compared to last week.
31 June 2008
I have certainly been on the receiving end of the African concept of time today. My 7 am meeting started at 7:40. Still, it was good. He had a lot of input on the packet and a way forward from here. So then at 8:40 I met with Stella at K-REP to discuss the business training. We covered the basics, the supplies, and her fee, but I will know more after meeting with the bodas later today. Then I went to the bookshop to purchase supplies for the workshop and met my friend Alyssa to get her camera for today since I forgot mine at my house early this morning. At this point I thought I was running late because the boda drivers were supposed to show up at 9:30 and the meeting was schedule for 10. I'm not in the office yet, it's 9:30, and I still have a ream of paperwork to prepare for today's meeting.
I get to the office and there are no bodas yet, so I go in and start prepping. Meanwhile my boss keeps throwing more information into the packets, I have to arrange for snacks, and I still have to get exercise books. I'm a little bit stressed and I've been going since before 7 this morning, but hey. it's Africa, so I have a little leeway with the time, right? Well, about 10:15 everything is pretty much together, and a couple of the guys have arrived. But for some reason my boss and the other facilitator are in a meeting. It's 10:30, 10:49, 11:00 and no boss. Now I'm frustrated. It's one thing to say time is a loose concept, and another to keep people waiting an hour after a meeting has been scheduled. Especially since we are trying to teach these guys about responsibility, and bottom line, teach them how to do business. But they can't work because they are waiting, and the longer it goes, the more it cuts into their prime time for doing lunch-hour business. They could be out making money instead of sitting around outside waiting for us. If it was me, I would have been out of there, since these people obviously do not care enough to show up on time. To their credit, they all stayed, which was encouraging. They really are committed (or they just had nothing better to do)
At about 11:30, we are able to move to the meeting venue: me, Mirriam, and the bodas. I hand the materials out and make a little bit of small talk. Shortly after that the other facilitator shows up and we get started, but the agenda is shot to hell. Finally my boss comes, and it ends up going really well. He's a really good teacher, so he was able to engage them and get them involved in the learning process. We also got to hear their ideas for other businesses they would like to do, and that was probably the best part of the day for me. The variety was astounding, although the cost of capital is so high they certainly won't be able to do much toward that right away. the idealist in me is pleased that maybe someday this little project will have made an impact, and these group members will be raising kukus, farming, driving a taxi, barbering, or getting further education. In the end, they were able to begin forming their group and elect their leadership, so all in all it was a successful training.
I began the training on a sour note, but it went up from there, so my feelings about the day are mixed, but I was emotionally and physically exhausted by the end of it. It was good to see the men so engaged and laughing at jokes. But all the same I was extremely frustrated with the whole situation. It's one thing to keep me waiting around the office, but you don't do it when you have another 20 people waiting on you. And you don't hold a meeting when you've already scheduled another meeting. It reflects poorly on our organization and says we are not serious about this, it makes us in a sense hypocritical. And it makes us just like everybody else, reinforcing the position society puts these men in, saying, well you aren't that important to us, either. Why should they participate if we can't even treat them with common decency and respect? Ahh! I'll tell you, I rarely curse, but today I just felt like spouting off a strem. Mirriam asked me around 10:49 if I was angry. I said, well, yes, and explained why. They started laughing and tried to explain, well, this is Africa. "In America you value time? time is money?" I tried to tell them, no, I get the cultural difference, and I thought I was handling that particular one pretty well, but that's not the reason this is a problem.I need to discuss with my boss tomorrow (also because he is trying to take off in a different direction with the business training). When he's in the office, it seems like heads are always rolling for the little inefficiencies that characterize work here. He and the chairman have both harped on this topic: streamlining operations, ensuring efficiency and accuracy. Well, tomorrow, his head will be rolling, because the situation today was unacceptable. That's not how you do business. I don't care who or where you are.
1 August 2008
A quick note before I head off for the weekend. We had a member come in to the office asking about the boda group. It seems he came last week and talked to the chairman about enabling a group of bodas from his church to start with the piki-piki (motoboda). He has a group of 20+. I talked with him for a long time about what we are doing and how it works and sent him away with some information. He was very positive and upbeat, and said he will discuss with his group on Sunday. So already, unlooked-for, we have the beginnings of a second group for this program. That's exciting! And talk about a jack-of-all-trades. This guy owns a piki-piki, works with the government empowering poor people, is an agricultural consultant, and owns a shop in town. Plus he pastors that church. Like everybody here, he does everything he can and works as hard as he can. It's really amazing to witness.

I've got the cooking bug

2008-07-30T04:57:00.000-07:00

29 July 2008

Apparently it is a goal for every Kenyan woman I work with to set me up with her single male relatives. Mary, the secretary, is trying to make sure her son comes into town before I leave. Eliza, who works in the office next to ours, is determined I get to know her brother. And Mirriam suggested her cousin. It's a funny thing.

This evening was incredibly rainy. Between when I left work at 4:40 to use the internet and when I went to meet my friends at Walia's (supermarket, bar and restaurant) at 5:20, there was a torrential (or so I thought) downpour that started just as I got past the market on the way to the cybercafé. After I left Walia's (meanwhile impressing my boda driver with my Kiswahili), it began to rain just as I walked up to the house. This amplified into what really was a torrential downpour (sometimes, you know, it just drizzles), eventually cutting out the power in the middle of making dinner. Surprisingly, it came back on quickly. Which reminds me that I am very grateful that we have not had a water shortage this week (I say that now…).
As far as the cooking escapades go, tonight I learned to cook kabechi (cabbage) and mahisi (I think that's what they're called), which are a kind of sweet-ish dough similar to a sweet roll that are fried. I haven't yet learned to cook the mahisi because my mom informs me that they take a long time to make.

One thing I've been thinking about for the past few days is how strong Kenyan women are, at least the ones I know. They do so much for themselves and their families, my Kenyan mom being one of the best examples of this (Moms are like that, aren't they?—a shout out to my real mom, whom I love and am so grateful for—thanks for being so wonderful about me being here). I don't know but there's a lot of chatter about women's empowerment in developing countries; let's face it, women have it kind of rough here. But watching my mom, I wonder if it doesn't take a stronger woman to walk to your own rhythm on the path forged for you instead of breaking away completely and forging your own path. Which I guess is my way of saying that I think there can be more validity in fulfilling a woman's traditional roles in your own (empowering) ways rather than tossing it all away to be a militant feminist.

Another thing I've been thinking about is how resourceful people here are. Sometimes I find myself so dependent on technology that I find it hard to organize and process information without my computer (take this blog as an example). Here, you find people taking their available capacity and really making use of it. This struck me this morning when I saw a man transporting a tower of milk crates taller than himself filled with loaves of bread on the back of his bicycle to all the little shops on the hospital road. Well, there aren't enough vehicles, and people can't afford to have everything delivered by truck, so many things are carried around on the backs of bicycles: people, chickens, cooking oil, food deliveries, other bicycles, and even coffins.

in which I get a grant!

2008-07-29T07:00:00.000-07:00

29 July 2008

I just wanted to send out a quick note to let you know that I got the grant money! So it's full steam ahead on the project, and things are starting to shape up.

In other news, yesterday my cock woke me up at maybe 5:30 with his crowing because he was still in the house in the box we transported him in by virtue of the rain when we came home the night before. But thankfully he was out of the house this morning, so I woke up with my alarm instead. Today is my friend Brenna's birthday, so we are all getting together in the time between work and dark to celebrate for a bit. And we're celebrating because we all got our grant money. Yay!

in which I get a cock

2008-07-28T06:29:00.000-07:00

27 July 2008

My family traveled to Butere to visit my host-dad's family (although he did not join us). It was a boda, matatu, basi, footing, basi, matatu, tuk-tuk trip. On the way to the matatu stage I saw one of my boda driver friends on the back of another boda, which was fun.

The matatu ride from Kakamega was typical—twelve people in an 8 person vehicle. Because my brother and sister are still small, we ended up with six people in a 3-person back seat. Well, after the matatu we took a bus, which was predictable bumpy, and dusty. Today was a pretty warm day, so the bus windows were open, which meant a faceful of dust every time we stopped…let's just say I think I'll be blowing dirt-pearls out of my nose for a few days. When we got off the bus in Butere, we then walked a little ways to the family compound.

It was a strange sort of visiting. We met the family, they served refreshments, and then left us alone for most of the day. My mom and I rested; the kids were running around playing. Well, gradually we go to eat a late lunch, and it's just me and my family in the dining room. I should also add that this was a pretty big house, and pretty modern. I actually had kind of forgotten about lunch, but it’s strange because there's food on the table to feel probably ten people, and it's just the four of us, two of whom are children. We started eating, but all too quickly I became full, mainly because I never eat a full lunch at work—I'm not used to it now. Garry for some reason didn't want any food, which is rather unlike him, since he could have had all the nyama he wanted. After a while my mom looked around the table and started laughing. Apparently it is tradition that when you go visit your mother-in-law, you eat all the food she puts before you, and here we had barely made a dent in it. So we were all laughing at that. Ay. It was a predicament, because I simply couldn't eat any more without feeling sick, Betty had already had three pieces of chicken, and Garry was refusing to eat at all. Luckily, when nyanya (grandmother, but also the word for tomato) came in, she was very good about it.

After lunch we walked around the compound and over to the new house that is being built for mom's sister-in-law—it is quite possibly one of the nicest houses I've been in here. On our tour of the compound we got to pet one of the yearling cows, and I must be a cow charmer because she like me petting best of all, and slobbered all down my skirt in appreciation. At this point mama and nyanya were talking poultry because mom is looking at expanding her kuku -aising so that she can sell some for nyama and make a little extra money. She was asking nyanya about the way she raises them, and I heard words like "broilers", which I know thanks to my sister's up-and-coming career in FFA (thanks Audrey!).

At this point the rest of the household joined us in sitting on the lawn as a prelude to goodbye. I couldn't follow most of the conversation, but that was okay. Then we went inside to grab our stuff. I was in the process of picking up my bag and wondering where my water bottle was when my mom calls my name and says, "Bethany, they have a present for you. Come accept it". Oh gosh, I did not ask for this. So it turns out, I am now the proud owner of one of nyanya's prize kukus, or more accurately prize cocks, the very cocks that my mom had earlier been asking nyanya where she could get one.

We took our leave, and the whole crew walked us back to the road to catch the basi. We ended up waiting for a while to get on the most crowded vehicle I have ever seen. It was about the size of a small school bus, which means it holds maybe 30 people, but there had to have been at least 55 people on that bus, standing in the aisle or sitting 3-to-a-seat. Needless to say, it was hot! By the time we got off the bus to take the matatu (almost leaving my cock in the process), it was getting dark. And starting to rain. So we were very glad to see Kakamega again, to talk the matatu driver into dropping us off someplace we can catch a tuk-tuk, and to see our front yard through the rain. As a cap to the day, mom couldn't find the key to undo the front-door padlock for a minute or two. Garry was holding the cell phone over her purse while she rifled through it. But we finally got inside and collapsed. Dinner was short—warmed leftovers—and I was in bed by nine.

...and then a busy weekend

2008-07-28T06:27:00.000-07:00

26 July 2008
So I shall attempt to put down in my own inadequate words all of the things I have thought to tell you today. This morning I woke up with the distinct impression that church may have gone until 4 this morning, although I am not 100% sure that I did not dream it simply because they were still worshipping strong when I went to bed. Today was Saturday, and so we had our last FSD meeting at the office for a few weeks until we start preparing for departure (it is so hard to believe I am starting my 6th week here!). This morning we cooked pancakes using some Bisquick James had left over. As most of you know, pancakes are one of my favorite things to cook, so I was more than happy to take over in the kitchen. In fact, it was hard to just sit still as the meeting progressed after the cooking and eating were over.
After meeting, I said goodbye to my friend Ervier, who is leaving on Friday. He's here from French Martinque, working with Peter. In addition to being a 6'9" Carribbean Frenchman who went to school in Paris and just finish a semester in Spain, he is a singularly interesting person. Most of all, he is refreshing to be around by bringing a different perspective to the group, and also because he is something of a dreamer. He sees things and says, what if this were possible, like getting free internet in the village, instead of saying, oh, it's too expensive. Being on the ground here, it is so easy to get caught up in the practical that you forget to dream, and to look at the situation with fresh eyes, even in this short time. So it has been very nice having Ervier around, and he will be missed.
I then returned home, because after being gone last weekend and working late this week, I feel like I haven't had any time to spend with my family. Who are absolutely wonderful, by the way.
In the afternoon, then, I began a book that I picked up today: The Righteous Men by Sam Bourne (an obvious nom de plume). If you were a fan of the DaVinci Code or Angels and Demons, you should consider picking up this book. I've found it very entertaining in a suspenseful, well-written, and importantly non-controversial way.
Later, my friends Tess and Jordan came over so that my mom, who is a nurse, could give them a tour of the hospital. They are both working at clinics out in the villages, and wanted to see what a full-service facility looks like. It was actually really interesting for me, too. Several occurrences in my life since I went to college have left me with a permanent, if non-vocational, interest in medicine, so I was very happy to accompany them, although my basis for comparison is a bit different. My biggest impression was actually very contradictory. While I was surprised by how inexpensive some things were—a lot of services are offered free, I was still struck by how expensive healthcare is for the locals. For instance (and I talked with my mom about this later) a blood glucose test is 150 KSH. Imagine if you are diabetic and must get tested regularly. She said a lot of times people wait until it gets really bad, and then have to be hospitalized to get blood sugar levels back to normal. But mostly, people just won't get treated because it's too expensive. At the hospital, the services for each ward or department we went to were clearly painted and posted with the price of each procedure, which was a nagging reminder of the corruption problems in this country, although it wouldn't make a difference if you were of the 15% or so who can't read. The place itself is spread out over probably a half-mile, and it seems like the services provided were pretty comprehensive, although they don't have an ICU—people have to be transferred to Eldoret for that. We were able in the course of our tour, to go to the maternity ward. It so happens that my mom had a colleague in who had just given birth to her first child on Thursday, so we got to see her and that beautiful baby. It turned out that the baby didn't have a name yet, so the mom wanted to name her after Tess. That was crazy. And it was a sharp reminder of where we are and the way we are perceived here. Anyway, I'm glad I had a chance to see it, and I truly wish that I felt called to medicine. There is so much work to be done there. Jordan says being here reminds him why he wants to go to med school, and has really made him think about becoming a surgeon, because there is so much need for that in particular.
This afternoon my mom taught me to make chapatti, and showed me how she cooks beans. Let me just say I am not sure I could duplicate the bean recipe, but I am a master at chapatti. This week is the first time I have really felt like I have bonded with her. And she mentioned that she is not a good teacher because she usually gets so frustrated, but that with a quick learner like me it was easy. Shucks.
While I was watching her cook today, I was just hit with how thankful and blessed I am to be here. On afternoons like today, just sitting around the houses chilling with the family, or talking to my siblings, watching them draw while leaning on the door frame, sitting on the floor, eating roasted maize, I feel so content, so at peace. Sitting there, I wonder how I will ever be able to go back. It's a simpler life; but we work hard: my mom works hardest of all. She wakes up at 5, gets the kids off to school, makes chai na asubuhi, works all day, then comes home at night and does all the chores and cooking herself, while most people have a house girl employed to take care of these things. But it feels so much more rewarding, more natural, less wasteful and empty.
This evening my host-dad came in from Nairobi. Really the only time I feel like an outsider in this family is when he's here. I don't really know him at all.
Tonight after dinner I was getting ready for bed: brushing teeth, washing face, and I realized how dirty my feet are. The saying about doing something to "get your feet dirty/wet", it's not just a saying for me anymore. It is so true. When you are out actually walking the streets, you get the dust of this country on your feet, and it kind of takes up residence there. No matter how many times you wash, there's always a little bit of dirt leftover. It really becomes a part of you, in a sense, but it also shows where you've been. If you come to Kenya and spend all your time in an automobile, like many white people, missionaries and tourist alike, your feet won't get dirty. If you have dirty feet, it means you've experienced the country by walking with the people.

end of a crazy week

2008-07-28T06:23:00.000-07:00

25 July 2008

I left work early after a tiring week with the grant, and my week was capped by me walking down the street while my boss honked wildly at me from the chairman's car which he had gone to fill with petrol. Then, while he was waving at me while I was waving back, unable to tell if he was just saying goodbye or trying to get my attention, he drove the car into a big pothole on the side of the road. It turns out he wanted to get my grant to read over the weekend, but it was a crazy few minutes to cap off a crazy week.

What a difference a little perspective makes! Right now it's 10:30 pm on a Friday, and the gospel center is still going strong. Some brother was preaching it up when I came home at 6, and I had to smile. It's how I know I've made it home, when I can hear the gospel center. I'm so glad that it's me that lives here: I have a feeling a lot of other people would not take it so lightly. If nothing else, you have to admire their commitment. The spirit must be a-movin'. And how sad that so many people (especially in America) are not this passionate about anything, much less the faith they profess to have. What would it be like if we had this kind of commitment? The US, and the world, would be a different place if people would commit to improving it, or even to just following their beliefs with one-tenth this much enthusiasm.

I mentioned earlier the Barrack Obama song. I just need to say once more how fabulous this song is regardless of which side of the aisle you sit on. It's lyrically genius, for instance: it is not Hillary Clinton (Obama), and it's not John McCain (Obama). It is not Chuck Norris (Obama), and I know it's not John Wayne. Barack Obama, Barack Obama, Barack Obama, whoa!

Yes, genius, I tell you.

Let's see, today I feel like I accomplished nothing, but that is not true. We had two meetings with boda drivers today, and it looks like we may have a group together. I'm working on developing ownership of the project with the SACCO staff. It can't be Bethany's project. It has to be Mirriam and Joel and Moses's project, too. The chairman is in town for the weekend, so I was able to get his scoop on things today. It's really interesting. He pretty much started the organization single-handedly because he felt like it was needed.

What else: today, my coworkers shared the food they brought with them, I got slightly ripped off by a vendor in the market, and then I met up with the other Americans after work.

When I got home, my brother and sister were teaching me some Kiswahili. For Garry, this means him asking me the names of things as follows:

G: What do you call a chair in Kizungu?

Me: Chair

G: In KIZUNGU!

Me: CHAIR!

G: I mean in Kiswahili
Me: Kiti

G: And in English?

Me: Chair.

G: And in African?

Me: Kiti.

This happens whether or not I know the word. Betty prefers to answer direct questions, or to show me in a book or by writing it down.

Funny Kenya-isms:

Matatu conductor: Hey white man!

Me: No!

MC: Hey black man!

Me: I am not a man! (This happened twice today…hmmm…)

Gary: Are you the manager (at work)? (Sorry, not even close)

This evening my mom taught me how to make ugali—surprising how much arm strength it takes…I need to start lifting weights. James had a box of Bisquick, so tomorrow morning we are making pancakes for the meeting.

grant-writing part 2

2008-07-25T02:26:00.000-07:00

25 July 2008

Yesterday was a long, tedious day of grant-writing and re-writing. But the grant is finished and on its way to San Francisco, so we shall see if I get the money for my project. If you are interested in what I've been working on, there is a link to the grant, which will explain about the project, at the bottom of this post.

Wonderfully enough, I received an unexpected package from America yesterday. Thank you, thank you, thank you, Jackie! The Oreos were much-appreciated during the grant-writing by all of the interns…by the end of the day, I had maybe six left from the whole package! My friend Jordan had gotten some tortilla chips, so we had chips and guacamole made from scratch, and then James showed up with grilled cheese fixings, so I was able to have a grilled cheese! I was in heaven gastronomically speaking. Oreos, chips and guac, grilled cheese, and to top it off, Jack Johnson and The Shins kept us company while we worked. And because I spent the whole day out of the office working on the grant, I was able to go home early and play Frisbee with my brother and sister, which both amusing and relaxing. I finished off the day by reading most of Ender's Game, so on the whole the day was a success.

On the topic of music, my co-workers have hooked me up with some sweet reggae, including the Barack Obama Reggae Busters CD here, no joke. The Barack Obama song really gets stuck in your head. Kenyans love Barak Obama as their native son, regardless of political agenda, and they will be extremely disappointed if the election doesn't go his way.

It was a good week, but long, and I am ready for the weekend. On Sunday, I am going to Butere with my family, which I am really excited about since it's the first time we've all gone somewhere. And tonight my mom is supposed to be teaching me to cook ugali, sukumanawiki, and nyama. Evansville, watch out! Here comes a Kenyan dinner party, complete with reggae.

Grant: http://docs.google.com/Doc?id=dgg83w27_9gvfjqqx3
Appendix I: http://docs.google.com/Doc?id=dgg83w27_12ff3nm7d4
Appendix II: http://spreadsheets.google.com/pub?key=p6dQaeQdsiApj3WzPig30fw

grant-writing part 1

2008-07-25T02:24:00.000-07:00

23 July 2008

Today I wrote a grant application for my project. We'll see if I get the money, and if the boda drivers actually want to be a part of it.

One thing I will say absolutely for this experience is that it decreases your dependence on the internet. The service was down today at the first café I went to, and then I got stuck there during a torrential rainstorm. After the rain, the internet was working at the second café I went to, but I was able to look up some links, add information to my grant, and check and respond to email in 17 minutes (even factoring in paleolithically slow data speeds). It’s gotten to the point that after I finish whatever I need to do, I'm done with the internet—no browsing. I'm sure that's partly because I'm paying for it, partly because of where I am doing it (cybercafs are not particularly comfortable), but it's also partly because there are other things I could be doing and partly because I don't know what else TO do. Lent may have cured my facebook addiction, but Kenya has cured my internet addiction. I even try to minimize how much time I spend on this computer.

A couple of note-worthy things I should mention from the past few days.
I met Elvis again: he's our computer guy.
I saw a man transporting six chickens tied to the crossbar of the bike he was walking.
I was almost caught out after dark—Kakmega becomes a different town at night.
It seems that American Christian music has made it to Kenya—we listened to Casting Crowns at work today (although we also listened to Justin Timberlake)—it amazes me the variety of things that make it over here.

Apparently I was unaware of what it takes to call me from the US. Complicating things beforehand was the fact that I gave out my number wrong several times.
But I think we've figured out now that if you dial (011-254) 729-941-031, it should work. FYI.

It also seems that I have picked up some Kenyan speech patterns, and have substituted for some words in English. I'm so used to responding to people in Kiswahili no matter what language they ask me in, that I find myself having to stop and think if I should respond "sawa" or "okay". I wish was able to pick up more Kiswahili as fast, but the learning process is now hatua kwa hatua, mchana kwa mchana (step by step, day by day).

in which I travel

2008-07-22T03:04:00.000-07:00

22 July 2008

The one thing I've noticed about being gone from Kakamega is that people have treated me differently since I've come back. I don't know if it is because they're used to seeing me now, but I was only called mzungu once this morning. Instead, I get "hello, madam", the ever-popular "howareyou?", "hi, sister" (spoken in a high falsetto), or my personal favorite "madam, you would like to ride on the boda-boda".

Katika Alhamisi, Ijumaa, Jumamosa, na Jumapili tulisafiri kwenda Naivasha. Last weekend we traveled to Naivasha.

From Thursday to Sunday I was on the mid-term retreat for FSD in Naivasha, Kenya. We stayed on Lake Naivasha, went to Hell's Gate National Park one day, and then walked to Crater Lake the next day. Well, it was an experience. It's always interesting watching a group of 11 people interact who would not normally choose to hang out together. It's weird: we're all here, so we all have something in common; but for that, we're all so different. This causes some tension, and I was actually very glad to go back to my family and my job in Kakamega. It was a strange experience only being around wazungu for four days; I don't know what I'm going to do when I get back to Evansville.

The retreat itself was wonderful. Fisherman's Camp was luxurious by comparison, and getting a hot shower out of a tap was a novelty for people who can only take bucket baths. The food at the camp was also delicious: I finally got to have a cheeseburger and spaghetti, two things I have missed a lot. Our day at Hell's Gate was fantastic. It's like a foot safari, so, with our guide, we walked 20 kilometers (about 13 miles) that day. We were able to see zebra, monkeys, baboons, water buffalo, and ostriches. Part of the hike was down the gorge at Hell's Gate, which was beautiful, and a lot of fun since it involved some rock scrambling that reminded me a little bit of ghyll scrambling in England.

The next day we took a boat across Lake Naivasha, spotting hippos along the way, and hiked through the savannah to the hills around Crater Lake, which is in an extinct volcano. I got to see some fantastic igneous rocks, so I was excited. In addition to the geology, there were giraffe, zebra, antelope, gazelle, black-and-white colobus monkeys, and flamingos! I truly feel like I have been to Africa now.

So that was two full days of walking, which means I took home plenty of blisters as souvenirs (I also managed to walk into a thorn bush). I also got to take out my film camera, which has a very restorative effect on my soul, but you won't be seeing any pictures until I get back because uploading takes too long. The blisters, however, did not deter us from tossing a frisbee that evening, which was very relaxing, and made me a very happy girl. Then it was time for the return journey to Kakamega, which is an 8-hour affair by matatu. Did I mention that my seat was bolted down poorly and had a tendency to rock back and forth over each pothole and speed bump (of which there are thousands)? When it is happening, it is tedious, to be sure, but I am lucky that I don't get car-sick, and I had plenty of practice reading in the car as a child. I was able to spend the drive finishing the book I started on the way down, King Leopold's Ghost, which was as interesting as history gets, and despite the fact that it is about the exploitation of the Congo, was especially intriguing reading it here, now. I also had a great time listening to music, so for me at least it was not a waste.

I got back thoroughly exhausted, but very happy to see my family. It seems my brother missed me so much that he cried on Saturday because he thought I wasn't coming back. At any rate, he had plenty of things to show me and tell me the moment I walked in the door, and it was a great welcome.

Back at work on Monday, my coworkers were very glad to see me (they had sent me several text messages telling me they missed me over the weekend). I was glad to be back in the office, although I am getting over a bit of lethargy regarding actually working. And this morning, the preachifying started at the evangelism center promptly at 6:40.I am back.

too full

2008-07-14T03:24:00.000-07:00

12 July 2008

My heart is too full to find the words, so I've got nothing to say. My feelings right now are somewhat bipolar. I've copied below my journal entry for the past two days for my class. In an effort to communicate my mood, I'll leave you with some poetry I found in my current novel, some beautiful lines from WB Yeats, and a sonnet by Robert Frost (I'm wishing I had brought a book of poetry—maybe I will just have to write my own).

Whew! It's the end of a busy week, and the beginning of an already-packed new week. Friday was more of the same data transfer work that I did on Thursday, but my supervisor got a chance to look at my proposal, so hopefully he will be in on Monday to talk about it and I can schedule some time with the credit/microfinance people to discuss this project. This means that I should probably spend Monday in the field talking to boda drivers. Today was Saturday, so I met with the other interns and our program coordinator to talk about our weeks and progress on our projects. It's really cool to see how things have shaped up for everyone. It seems like they are all really interesting, worthwhile projects. Then we discussed an article we were given during the week, which happened to be on microfinance, so I facilitated the discussion. Much of it was outdated information, but it brought up a lot of good points about development work in general. You can learn as much from program failures as success stories; development needs to be people-focused, not statistic-focused; programs must be tailored to the cultural and physical specifics and needs of the context you are operating in; no matter the field or the sustainability; they should be run in accordance with good business sense, looking at financial transparency, accountability, cost cutting, and efficiency; and programs should, change, grow, and innovate with their clients rather than remaining static.

A solitude ten thousand fathoms deep

Sustains the bed on which we lie, my dear;

Although I love you, you will have to leap;

Our dream of safety has to disappear.

—WH Auden

We sat grown quiet at the name of love;
We saw the last embers of daylight die,
And in the trembling blue-green of the sky
A moon, worn as if it had been a shell
Washed by time's waters as they rose and fell
About the stars and broke in days and years.
I had a thought for no one's but your ears:
That you were beautiful, and that I strove
To love you in the old high way of love;
That it had all seemed happy, and yet we'd grown
As weary-hearted as that hollow moon.

—WB Yeats, "Adam's Curse"

She is as in a field a silken tent

At midday when the sunny summer breeze

Has dried the dew and all its ropes relent,

So that in guys it gently sways at ease,

And its supporting central cedar pole,

That is its pinnacle to heavenward

And signifies the sureness of the soul,

Seems to owe naught to any single cord,

But strictly held by none, is loosely bound

By countless silken ties of love and thought

To everything on earth the compass round,

And only by one's going slightly taut

In the capriciousness of summer air

Is of the slightest bondage made aware.

—Robert Frost, "The Silken Tent"

ingoho

2008-07-11T03:29:00.000-07:00

10 July 2008

Ironically, the power went out just as I plugged my laptop in.

It's raining again, and I had to walk home in the rain, but it was good. I rather enjoy being out in the rain, so it wasn't a huge punishment. I got to walk home with Mirriam and Gladys, which was as educational as anything I did this week. I learned a little bit about their personalities, a little bit about culture, and I little bit about food and language. I finally got to impress someone by using ingoho! It's the Kiluhya (local tribe) word for kuku or chicken. They were pointing foods out to me at the vendors still out and asking me what I have eaten already and telling me I need to try the local foods. They've already been testing me during the workday when someone will go out for snacks. I'm game for most things, but I draw the line at dirt. I kid you not, apparently pregnant women eat some of the dirt clusters because they're supposed to be high in iron. So we had dirt, although I'm still trying to figure out who the pregnant one is supposed to be. In town, people were crowded under overhangs by the shops and the areas at the petrol station were a mass of people waiting for the rain to let up. It's funny, most people try to get out of the rain, which seems a little silly considering that it can last most of the afternoon. Today it started around four, and didn't let up for my whole walk home at five. Then there was a bit of a break, and it began raining again. Most of the boda and matatu drivers won't brave the rain, so there was a lot less heckling today, which was njema sana. Mirriam said she likes walking home slowly by slowly (hatua kwa hatua) so that she can enjoy it while getting some exercise. I subscribe to that school of thought, even when it's raining. On the days where I have to take a boda because I'm running late or I need to get home, I miss having the walk to put my day together or to unwind after work.

Today was otherwise a pretty rough day. I spent most of it re-entering data by hand into a new cash book because the old one was error-riddled. To explain the magnitude, I only finished one month's worth of entries today. My shoulders are so taut from being hunched over the books all day, and with the weather changing, my nerves are acting up. I could really use a back massage. I packed a lunch today, but by lunchtime I just really needed to get out of the office, so I met up with Alice for lunch.

Side note: she is working with a tailoring class doing business training and teaching them to make clothing and bags for export. If any of you want something made, please send me an email at bmarie71@gmail.com and include your measurements relevant to the article of clothing; I'll see what I can get. I know they can do skirts.

One thing I need to work on personally is being more assertive so that the things I need get done punctually. My colleagues may be workaholics , but they finish things on African time.

It hardly seems that I have only been working two weeks. I don't know that it feels like home exactly. I never wake up wondering where I am or what I am doing here. I don't know what I will have accomplished when I leave or what my reason for being here is, but I don't want to be anywhere else.

Tutakitana kesho, Mangu alipenda.

We'll meet tomorrow, God willing. That was my final language lesson for the day.

Currently reading: The Kingdom of God is within You, Leo Tolstoy

Currently listening to: Elias, Dispatch. Dispatch and Jimmy Eat World have become my Kenya soundtrack (with The Shins and some folk thrown in).

life from the sideshow

2008-07-11T03:27:00.000-07:00

9 July 2008

I saw two very interesting hair styles today. One woman's braids in a ponytail. had the texture and sheen of a plastic bag, and the other looked like an orange sea urchin stuck to the back of her head. It brings up a really interesting note about Kenyan culture. To Kenyans, personal appearance is very important. Clothes are normally clean and pressed, and they take great pains to dress "smart." That's part of the reason why the fabrics are so bright and beautiful. Women will have their hair done or wear beautiful headscarves. Among kids, most will have simple braids, and many girls have shaved heads because it’s a pain for their moms to do their hair. But you can usually tell which little girls' moms are hairdressers because they generally have really complicated hairstyles or really long braids. This care goes all the way down to their businesses, which are usually brightly painted. The roadside vendors have their wares carefully set out or hung, and those selling produce often stack them in pyramids. That is something I should definitely get a picture of.

Sometimes life is a three-ring circus with clowns and freaks and camels and such…

It's interesting to feel like one of the freaks in the sideshow (no, I don't feel that way all the time). But as a mzungu that's what you are—a curiosity. People do a double-take when they see you, schoolchildren crown the bus windows to get a look, and occasionally you even get a little kid who sights you, then takes off running, "Mzungu! Mom! Mzungu". Yes, you are the bear in the front yard. Or, better yet, you're a dare. Who will be brave enough to run up and touch or talk to the mzungu? I don't mind it for the most part—it's a strange place to be, for sure. But sometimes it’s just tiring to have to keep shaking hands and waving people off when you really just wanted to enjoy your walk. It's not the first time I've been an outsider, but it's definitely a good reminder to know what the minority feels like.

no power

2008-07-09T07:56:00.002-07:00

8 July 2008

Big day of work. I formulated an entire project proposal before lunch. I'm hoping to form a micro-lending group among boda drivers for business upgrading or progression to other business ventures. Now I just need to get up the courage to go talk to some boda drivers about it.

I didn't do much of anything else because about 11:30 the power went out at the office and was out for the rest of the day. On my way home some guy tried to track me down. He had just started to tell me about how sad his life was and how he never gets enough food when I excused myself. I had an interesting conversation with my boss about the assumption that white equals money. In some senses it is true: I am very wealthy and very blessed by comparison. But at the same time, I'm a student with no job. I have maybe $300 in my bank account. By that measure, I'm poor. (Oh, but rich in friendships. You guys really are liking this sappiness, now aren't you?)

One of the big issues here right now concerns the privatization of some hotel. The deal was somewhat shady, but it's become this big scandal now, with the Finance minister bogged down in the midst of it. Today, he resigned. But the funniest part is that as late as Saturday he had released a statement saying he would rather die than resign, Famous last words. Got me thinking about how silly it is to make statements using words like "always", "never", and "forever". "I will always love you": really? Hmmm.

in which I do some work

2008-07-09T07:49:00.000-07:00

7 July 2008
First full day of work. Today I began putting together my work plan. I'm really excited about the project I am putting together, and tomorrow will be a full day with researching and assessing if and how to go about the project. I was also able to sit in on a meeting with one of the microfinance group.
After work, I played Frisbee with Garry, which was delightful. It was the funniest thing watching him throw it (he sort of resembled a discus thrower), and then figuring out where it would land when he did. Then the both of us would race toward in. We had huge smiles on our faces.
The afternoon rainstorm came without warning after we'd gone in, and it continued to rain until about 9 pm. In the middle of eating dinner, the power went out, so after a shin-banging search for the cell phone, we ate the rest of our dinner by screen light. Tonight we had pumpkin leaves, nyama, and mchele (meat and rice). I don't even know if you can get pumpkin leaves in the US but I am going to try. I'm already planning a dinner party when I get back.
In the market on the way to the cybercafé from work, I saw a kid walking toward me, limping. Let me preface this by saying that there are a lot of street children in Kakamega, many of them orphaned in the conflict. A lot of them are glue addicts. So, I'm walking by this kid who is maybe 14, maybe 18, and I notice he's limping. I look down partly to see where I'm going, and partly out of curiosity. What I saw wrenched my heart. I wasn't surprised he didin't have shoes, most of these kids don't. But his feet were so painful he couldn't walk. They were scuffed and dirty, and cut up, The really sad part is that he had open wounds that were obviously infected, sort of hollowed boils. This kid's story is like so many people here. There is so much suffering due to poor sanitation, disease, AIDS, the conditions of poverty. But so much of it is completely preventable, often with a simple solution like putting on a pair of shoes.
Just like I wish I could give every kid shoes, there's another hopeless cause on the streets; dogs. I love dogs; I have always loved dogs. There was one sleeping outside the office building today. I really wanted to pet him, but I kept having to remind myself that rabies is bad.

workaholics?!

2008-07-09T07:44:00.000-07:00

6 July 2008

Friday was as hectic a day as I've had, but it was really good to spend some time with the other interns after work and enjoy a burger and some watermelon. I don't much go in for the fourth of July, but this was quite fun. We were even able to shoot some fireworks that Lisa scrounged up (I don't know how).

Saturday we had an FSD meeting and discussed grant writing and our progress at work. Then we had lunch together, and it was good to be able to talk some more with the other group of interns and gain some insight into what the next weeks will be like, and also just get to know them better. I was able to pick up some books to read, so I spent the rest of my weekend with my nose in a book. I have a new favorite food: ndego, lentils. I don't even know that I had ever had lentils before, but they're absolutely delicious! My mom cooked them for dinner yesterday, not for the first time, but this was a different variety, and probably the tastiest I've had.

One curious thing about the weekends is that it seems everyone sets their animals out to graze along the street. Only in Kenya!

This morning, I woke up early, and before long the evangelism center was going full swing. You can hear the music, and the guy speaking, with all doors closed. I understand outreach, and I understand the importance of religion and faith, but even for someone to whom faith is important, this is out-of-hand. It's obnoxious and off-putting. I know you should want to share, but it shouldn't be done in a way that intrudes so persistently on others' daily life. Really, this is the only thing here that I have a complaint about. After listening to that all day, I have been craving some music in a bad way (side note: I think I am getting into reggae!).

In that line of thought, I need to find some time and space for me, and I haven't figured out how yet. I need to get some writing done (other than this blog and work).My days are so busy, I don't know where I can fit it. The most surprising thing has been that my office is a bunch of workaholics. They come in at 8 and go as late as 6:30 without much of a lunch, and they even make a half-day on Saturdays. Luckily I am excused for FSD meetings on Saturday. But I thought Africans were supposed to take a casual attitude about time!

In honor of Independence Day

2008-07-04T03:48:00.000-07:00

4 July 2008

I have been getting down to actual work both yesterday and today, processing information on loan default rates for the SACCO. Today is the graduation ceremony for the first class from Masinde Muliro University of Science and Technology here in Kakamega. President Kibaki is supposed to be officiating, and he is also receiving an honorary degree. In preparation for the rais, the officials have been clearing up the streets for the past few days. We're not talking trash: there is as much trash as ever. We're talking people: street children and vendors. The route to work has been surprisingly quiet the past few days, and today it was overrun with polizi and chiefi (soldiers). It's yet another reminder that Kenya is not as peaceful as everyday life would lead you to believe, although at least none of them were carry guns, just nightsticks. It didn't occur to me until I was walking there that the ceremony was so political, and had to potential to evolve into a riot, since the wounds from a few months ago are still very raw, and there has been a lot in the papers in the last few days about corruption scandals.

My boss walked me over to the ceremony for a little bit. It was considerably more free-flowing and disorganized than an American ceremony, and included many entertainment groups; I got to catch a glimpse of a tribal dance. But the graduates were dressed the same, and people were selling artificial leis, much like in America. As we walked over, we saw the convoy of government officials, which was also very similar to any state visit, anywhere: America, Italy (popewatch!). As far as I could tell, the president didn't show up, but I had a chance to look at the brochure announcing his degree, which was very humorous and full of propaganda. This humble son of the soil rose past the obstacles of his impoverished birth to become the hero of the nation, and a man of international renown (international renown, yes, but infamously). He has been considered one of the great minds of Africa, is a hero of the independence struggle, and is an accomplished man of education, farming, business and politics. Imagine six pages of that! Made me think about how Americans complain so much about politics, yet our lives are so insulated from them. The president or the governor would never be required to attend a graduation at a public school. Here, it's part of his state duties.

This afternoon and evening FSD is having a July 4^th barbecue at Angie's place. I'm really glad because I've been craving a cheeseburger! I'm bringing watermelon, to keep the Baker tradition alive. We'll also have a chance to hopefully toss around my Frisbee, and just hang out.

Perhaps only in Kenya...

2008-07-04T03:47:00.000-07:00

2 July 2008

…will you see:

men trimming the lawn in front of the town hall with machetes

a man transporting a coffin on a bicycle

an evangelism center playing music louder than the bar next door

two trash cans for an entire metropolitan area.

…will you be asked for your email before your phone number

…will I try "drinking yogurt" and both cheese/onion and tomato flavored crisps.

…could I go a week without seeing another mzungu

Sometime I should tell you about KICK, Keep it Clean—Kakamega, which was my brainstorm at work today when I didn't have much to do. Current reading material is The Problem of Pain, by CS Lewis, which I would recommend, especially if your interests shy towards working with underprivileged people.

After work, the girls and I met up in town, and we were joined by Walker, another townie from the first summer session, who is also working in microfinance. It was good to see everyone and compare stories about what their organizations are like and where they see opportunity.

I made the acquaintance of my other host brother today. He's home between terms for Form 1 (9^th grade) in high school. He's talkative (and easy to talk to) and very curious. Both the younger kids adore him; I haven’t ever heard Betty talk this much. Alvin is going to walk with me to work tomorrow. My littlest brother, Garry, spent half the evening playing with his bike balanced upside-down, much the way I used to make-believe mine was a spinning wheel (Rapunzel, anyone?) Then he was writing his numbers and drawing "men" that resembled amoebas. When I asked him where the heart, nose and stomach were he was very perplexed. But he was not impressed with my attempt at a stick man, which he told me was "not good". Then he drew a humanoid, but the funny part was this man had his heart literally in his stomach. I couldn't stop laughing over that: truly, the way to a man's heart is through the stomach. He also likes to ask frequently, "You have heard?" which means something like, "Are you listening?", and he says, "I tell you what" several times before launching into any type of explanation.Another thing about Garry: the first few days he kept wanting to eat bread for dinner, but last night, when he wouldn’t finish his food, his mom asked him if he would just eat bread all the time: "Mom, I don't like bread. I like JAM!"

Tembea kwa mimi (Walk with me)

2008-07-04T03:42:00.000-07:00

1 July 2008

Curse the mother tongue! Anytime someone asks me something in English, like, "How are you?" I respond in English. It's so ingrained that I don't even think about it.

I walked to work this morning, which was really pleasant, and only took half an hour, although my host mom was worried about me going. I promised to stick to the main road. But, as Mary told me yesterday, the nature of crime here is not by mugging. If you are careless with your things, you may find something missing, but you will not have it taken by force. The nice thing is that the boda boda and matatu drivers are so busy in the morning, they don't really have time to hassle you, and the street vendors are not really set up yet. Those that do are pretty easily ignored, or responded to as you continue walking. I needed to start laundry this morning, but unfortunately, the water is not running, which happens quite frequently, anytime there is a shortage.

Part 2

Now, take a walk with me home. Leave KES, and walk across a dirt yard and around a fence to the main road. On both sides of the street are boda looking for fares. Keep walking on the right side of the highway, and we'll cross a street and pass a market, but not before hearing mzunu half a dozen times. The funny thing is that they do not realize you are a mzungu until you have already passed, so you hear lots of "howareyou? howareyou madam?" behind you. Then you pass the market, maybe 100 yards of wood-framed, roofed stalls, where they are selling all sorts of things. Down the eroding sidewalk ,the produce smells tempting: greens, spices, and fruits, but between you catch a whiff of the tiny dried fish that are the local specialty. Hapana, asante sana. But don't get so distracted by the smells that you forget where to step, because in a lot of places the pavement drops down to dirt. Cross another street, the main road to town, looking right, then left for gari, matatu, na boda. You walk by SomKen, the petrol station, and the triangulated bulding next to it that houses Kakamega Cyber Café, where you have already spent a lot of time (and shillings) waiting on the internet (and where this is likely to be posted from). For the next 50 yards you will be harrased by matatu drivers, convincing you to go to Eldort, Kisumu, Bungoma, anywhere but here. You respond, "Ninatembea. Asante" and keep walking, past stall after stall of clothing, shoes stacked carefully in pyramids, handbags, CDs, and the obligatory fruit and roasted maize. Somewhere down the path, which is part dirt and part pavement, across the road out of town, by the post office, you see someone you know, whom you met this morning. You say, "hujambo, bibi" and exchange pleasantries, but the conversation ends, and you walk on. By the Total Petrol, three small voices behind you say hello, and you turn to see three green school dresses and jumpers smiling back at you. "Oh, hello. Habari yako?" and with that they are attached to you for the walk home. You only wish you could remember their names after they told you, but their voices are so quiet you never can catch them. So you keep walking, then cross the street to the matatu path before your road turns off on the left, the three girls still behind you. On the corner is a tiny round hut hidden behind a hedge, with trash piled up in the yard, clothes on the line, and some effort at a garden next to the road. For the fourth time you wonder who live there in this otherwise well-to-do area. After you turn off, two of them catch up to you, asking you where you live. At this point, you say, "Up ahead, by the hospital." You ask their ages, about their school, where they live, and as you are walking together, you pass several more groups of children, who yell, "Mzungu,howareyou?" Your response of,"Nzuri sana. Na wewe" or "Njema" sends them off into giggles, and you ask your companions if the mzungu speaking katika Kiswahili is funny. "Yes." Passing the Milimani sign, they ask where you are from in England, and you tell them America, jimbo la Texas (you guys don't know what it costs me every time I have to admit I live in Texas because at least it's someplace they've heard of).You cross the road to pass the hospital gate and the stalls around it, with the chemists back on the left side, and the girls want to know if you have any friends they can play with. "My friends all don't live around here." Pole. By this time you have reached the place across from your house that is now so familiar, and you can see the bar and hear the strains from the evangelism center and the one song it plays. And there is your yard and your house, so you tell your new friends that you are going home, kwaheri, and you step across the road, past the tree and onto the porch, where the door is opened by your eight-year-old sister and your five-year-old brother, who immediately begins telling you everything.

Let's get down to business

2008-07-01T04:30:00.000-07:00

30 June 2008

Today was my first day of work. Angie dropped me off at 9 at the KES office. It was overwhelming, not in the sense of having too much to accomplish, but in the sense of being weighed down by expectations. I actually did not do much of anything today.

I should probably take a moment to explain that I am not working at ACCES; I am actually placed with Kakamega Entrepreneurs SACCO. It’s an incredibly small office: the staff is 4. This morning I was greeted by Mary, the secretary, who does this as a volunteer. She works another job. Also present, Joel, the KES officer, and Miriam, who is only "one week old" at KES. Mary broke me in, and Joel explained a bit about the microfinance program, while we waited for Moses, the treasurer, who is also a school teacher. Throughout the morning, I received trickles of information about the Society (side note, it's a really obnoxious thing to find a mosquito inside your mosquito net, especially when it keeps flying in front of your computer screen, and you know it's just going to bite the heck out of you later. Luckily, I have reflexes like a cat…). The main information I received today is that the microfinance initiative at KES is new, and they expect me to help them learn how to run it. It's good because I'm able to get in at the ground level and watch it be constructed, but they are expecting expertise. I also received a copy of the company’s 4-year strategic management plan and a copy of the by-laws to study for the other portion of my job, which seems (another bug flying by) to be as a managerial/organizational review consultant. They want me to review the paperwork and see if they are meeting requirements and that the managerial committees and staff are doing their prescribed jobs. I feel a bit like a spy. Pursuant to that requirement, I begin meeting with committee chairs tomorrow to discuss the operations so that I will understand how they work. In my spare tine, I have to figure out what self-constructed work I will be doing.

In the words of Li Shang, Captain of the Emperor's Army, son to the General, "Tomorrow, the real work begins."

I got off at maybe 2 today because I had finished reading paperwork, and there was nothing else assigned. I didn't eat lunch except for some junk I picked up at the supermarket, but I went to the posta and tried to find an internet café that was working, with no luck. I was able to manage getting around on my own without getting lost, so I was proud. I am functional without a babysitter.

Everyone has been so encouraging about my attempts to learn Kiswahili at both work and home, but it's very slow progress. I have no room for the vocabulary. Plus, I've been really tired lately, but Eunice thinks it's from walking around a lot. The walk home is long, but how can you not have a good day when a child you don't know runs to greet you on the street with a huge smile on his face? It's infectious.

In which I move to my home

2008-06-29T22:42:00.000-07:00

28 June 2008

Orientation is over. Go forth and work.

This morning was the last breakfast in the hotel. After breakfast, we met the other interns at the Kakamega program. There was one last session, mostly introductions and reminders, and then it came time to leave for my host family.

Today has been a quiet day. I'm still settling in, so I'm not talking much. My Kiswahili definitely needs work. I spent most of the day with my host brother, Garry, who is five. He's very outgoing. We played with Legos, and he was writing and drawing for me all day. He likes to draw airplanes and animals. He also practiced writing his numbers. Betty, the eight-year-old girl, is very shy, so she hasn't talked much all day, and when she does, she speaks very softly. Her dad had to prod her to ask if I needed to wash my hands before dinner. It's a very nice house, big, but also clean and well-kept. There's a bucket shower, but they have flush toilets, electricity, and an electric clothes washer. My room and bed are big. Eunice, mama yangu, keeps a vegetable garden and raises kukus. They also have a dog, Rex, but he stays chained outside. Eunice, like all Kenyan women, is a wonderful cook. I also was able to meet baba yangu. He works in Nairobi, but is home for the weekend.

I read a lot of the day, and also watched television. I saw Spongebob and Loonatics Unleashed this morning, and mostly news this afternoon. In the evening Eunice watched a Kiswahili sitcom, which was funny enough, but I would love to know what they are actually saying. I also had the opportunity to see a fantastic movie called Commando. It's a Schwarzenegger film from the eighties. Garry had been drawing boats, but he didn't appreciate my attempts to draw one, so to appease him I drew water around it. Then he drew planes, then a plane in the water. When I asked him if he had ever seen a water plane before, he insisted on watching the movie (there is one in it).The basic plot is that Ahnold's 11-year-old daughter is kidnapped by the bad guys, and he's a military guy who goes one-man-army and unleashes hell on his foes. To make things even better, it was dubbed over in French. I can't wait to experience it in English when I get back.

In which I fall in love (sort of)

2008-06-29T22:41:00.001-07:00

27 June 2008

Last day of orientation, and a day of rest (sort of). We got going pretty early to make our way to Kisumu to pick up some necessities, then spent the day at Kidogo Bay Resort, relaxing and looking for hippos. To get to Kisumu, tulisafiri kwa matatu (we traveled by matatu). Matatus are public-private 14-passenger vans, but unlike any van with that capacity in the US, they are not built with personal space in mind. The matatu is maybe as long as a Ford Expedition, but boxy and low to the ground. Although they seat only twelve, the conductors like to squeeze in as many passengers as possible to make more money. At one moment today, there were 20 people and one chicken on our matatu. When unloading, it’s like getting out of a clown car, as there are so many people and the seats are so close together. The ride to Kisumu wasn't too bad. I had the seat closest to the window, The scenery was beautiful, but it seems that Kenya is always beautiful, especially with reggae playing in the background; on the way back I couldn't chill as much while listening to Akon. For car fans, I saw a Subaru WRX at the filling station where the matatu staging was.

As we drove in to Kisumu, I saw a beautiful old church. Kisumu itself a bustling town. We were able to see the hospital, which is state-of-the art, and then we went to the Nakumatt to buy cell phones and shop (by the way, my number is 254-0729941051 if anyone is interested in buzzing me). After the Nakumatt, we took tuk-tuks (3-person enclosed motorcycle taxis) to the resort at Kidogo Bay, where we ate lunch and spent the afternoon looking out over Lake Victoria and hippo-spotting. My dish at lunch was a delicious beef skewer, and they also had a really delicious dressing made out of mustard powder and passion juice. We weren't able to see any hippos close enough for pictures, but we were able to see a few surface just outside the bay. We did, however, get to experience a Kenyan gospel choir shooting a music video on the shores of Lake Victoria, and walking around the hotel pool. We heard the same songs over and over, and they were just lip synching for the video, but I was able to catch a few words I knew, like asubuhi (morning), bwana (man) and pole pole (slowly). The funniest part was watching the two man in the back of the choir who had no rhythm (kind of like me), and then they swayed and paced their way around the pool, single file, all while lipsynching to the music and being filmed. Apparently Kenyans are know for using the pool as a setting for pictures. Who knew?

It rained on the matatu ride back, and then we got back to town too late to use the internet café.

But, I have some exciting news. I received an offer of marriage today. He seems to be a good man who works in transportation. Apparently I am quite the catch, but he was unhappy with the terms of the arrangement, so it’s not going to work out. Still, it was quite a romantice proposal, love at first sight if you will, although, guys, I do not recommend proposing through a friend.

So, actually, we were walking, and one of the boda drivers starts talking to Angie. I wasn;t paying much attention to him because the sidewalk was crowded and I was being called mzungu all over the place. The only word I caught out of their conversation was ngombe, which is beef.

BODA MAN: I'll take that one off your hands (pointing)

ANGIE: Do you have cows?

BODA MAN: They want cows?

ANGIE: Yes, they want cows?

BODA MAN: How many?

ANGIE: 1000 cows. (About the time I started paying attention)

BODA MAN: 1000 cows?

ANGIE: Yes, 1000 cows.

I guess I'm a hot commodity, but not worth 1000 cows to this man. Love conquers all, but cannot make up for lack of cows.

Oh, and if you want to send me something (please?), the address is:

c/o Peter Ingosi

Box 1124

Kakamega 50100 KENYA

sustainability and spaghetti

2008-06-29T22:39:00.001-07:00

26 June 2008

Today was an intense class day. We spent five hours on Kiswahili, learning useful subjects and phrases for activities like bartering or telling someone to leave you alone on a crowded bus. We also did a lot of sentence construction and verb use. It was a lot of practice. Later in the day, I was able to use my first Kiswahili outside of "asante sana; karibu; kwaheri; hujambo." I also made my first mistake using Kiswahili. I told a matatu conductor that "We have money (tuna pesa)." But he seemed to accept it, said "Okay," and left, so I can only hope he either misheard me, or had a funny story to take home about the mzungu he talked to today.

One funny thing about walking around town is that the vendors, boda boda drivers, matatu conductors, and miscellaneous people, all want your business or want to get your attention. This is commonly done by yelling "Mzungu!"—their word for European/Western/white person—over and over. Sometimes it seems to be both demeaning an obnoxious. But they don't mean to be racist, they just can't tell non-Africans apart. The matatu conductors and boda drivers especially are very persistent.

One thing that I love is that throughout the day, but especially at mealtimes, the whole area smells like cookfires. I love that smell. Another interesting thing is that, while there is only a small Muslim minority here, in town you can hear the call to prayer from the local mosque during the day. It's a frequent reminder that this culture is so different from my own.

The rest of the academic day was taken up on discussing the contexts of development we’ve been observing all week. We talked about opportunities, especially in Kakamega, which has a dense population but almost nothing in the way of industry; the town is also very near a regional airport and the Ugandan border, yet almost everything produced here beyond subsistence needs must be sent out, usually to Nairobi, to be processed. This is inefficient, and with the large human capital resources and location, Kakamega has the potential to be attractive to industry and larger corporations. Another discussion was about the causes and effects of urbanization in Kenya, We also covered the meaning and sources of sustainability, as represented in this quote from Kofi Annan: "Far from being a burden, sustainable development si an exceptional opportunity—economically, to build markets and create jobs; socially, to bring people in from the margins; and politically, to give every man and woman a voice, and a choice, in deciding their own future." Sustainability fosters the dignity of communities, people, and cultures while giving people the tools to improve their own lives; it works in five areas: culture, politics, economics, management/human capital, and the environment. Sustainability is the heart of the work the interns are involved with here, and needs to be in the back of our minds as we go about our work.

Finally, we covered the observation of our organization that we will conduct our first week. Angie went over ways to conduct a needs assessment to identify where our labor is needed and projects that we can work on before we develop and turn in the work plan for our time during the second week at the organization.

This evening we had our first experience with the availability of technology in the developing world. There was free time after class to go to the internet café, but service was down, and we didn’t learn until later that one other place had a different provider and was still working. We were all looking forward to writing home, and I had an assignment to send back, but too bad. Hopefully this will get put up tomorrow.

Dinner was spaghetti and garlic bread at Angie's place, and the topic of discussion was a little about integrating into the host family and a lot about feed back on orientation.

I fall deeper in love with Kenya

2008-06-29T22:38:00.001-07:00

25 June 2008

A busy, busy day. The morning began with more Kiswahili. We covered verb construction and tense, and have learned some basic verbs. the language is much easier to conjugate than any of the Germanic languages—given any verb I can conjugate it in any of the tenses I know—no special rules. I can now speak (albeit slowly) in complete sentences. After the lesson we took cars out of Kakamega to the villages. First, we went to Shibwe, where Jordan is working at the health clinic. We got a tour of the clinic, and it was neat to be able to see where he will be working. They are very understaffed, but do so much for the community with what they have. The countryside is beautiful, very lush. Maize farming is really big in the area, so there were lots of plots of corn, but very different from Indiana. The plots are much smaller, and are scattered between habitations and other buildings.

After Shibwe we drove to Malinya, the village where Peter's family lives. We had lunch at his house in his family compound, eating food his mother had cooked over a mud, wood-burning stove in her tiny mud building. The food was delicious! I've never had pumpkin leaves before, but they were tasty. We met his mama and brothers, then walked back to the main road to meet up with the cars. Everywhere we walked there were children, and as it was a around lunchtime, many of them were out of the classroom. As we'd move by the building or grounds, from out of nowhere would be forty voices chanting "Howareyou? Howareyou?" at us. They loved greeting us, even if they could not answer back when we returned the question. Several little girls got brave enough to come over as we were getting in the car, and they responded shyly, "Nzuri" to Jordan and Alice's "Habari yako?" One just giggled and turned away when Alice wished her goodbye, "Kwaheri."

We returned to the guest house for more language, then took our free time to walk into town to the internet café. As it was getting dark on the way back, we had our first experience with boda boda, or bicycle taxis. It's not a cart pulled by bicycle, like you may have seen. It's a seat suspended over the back tyre, with handlebars underneath the driver's butt. It's even worse in a skirt because you have to sit sidesaddle. Still, it was quite fun.

Today was good. Ni leo nzuri.

Hakuna matata really does mean no worries

2008-06-29T22:37:00.001-07:00

24 June 2008

Hujambo from Kakamega!

Yes, people, Disney got it right. Today began our Kiswahili training—3 hours of it! Our teacher's name is Mugo, and he is very good. Mwalimi jina lake ni Mugo na ni nzuri sana. Normally he is the instructor for the Peace Corps trainees that come to Kenya. SO far we've learned basic introductions and conversation, as well as some vocabulary. Class is actually fun and interesting. We can joke with one another, and laugh at our mistakes. Mugo explained during a break that he teaches to all different learning styles. His approach is "communicative," based not on memorization but on speaking and usage. It's probably the best language class any of us have taken, despite the intensity. Only 11 more hours to go.

Today we toured Kakamega, and ate lunch in town. My workplace is actually right next to where we are staying. The town is wonderful…group consensus is that we love it here. Life is calmer than in Nairobi, and the people are very friendly (not in a bad way). I met the real Elvis today . You only thought he was dead; he is actually alive and well, and waiting tables at the Silver Pot Café in Kakamega. The town has everything you really need and nothing you don't. There's a central market, three supermarkets, two big banks, and a post office, as well as internet cafes, restaurants, and numerous small businesses and street vendor, although we've been warned not to eat the food. One of the interns who arrived in May was in the hospital this morning from food poisoning for buying fish off the street. We walked pretty much the whole city center before returning to Shewye Guest House. Talk about dirty feet! One of the girls was propositioned in town, the guy asking her to take him back to America, but other than that the walk was very pleasant.

We spent the afternoon going over our responsibilities in behavior and mainly health and safety information (I know Mom's excited!). Most of it was information we'd already received or just common sense. I did learn that you are supposed to tuck a mosquito net in every night, not just drape it over yourself. This afternoon closed with a beautiful sunset, and I was finally able to get my camera out (the only other picture I have is of a toilet at a rest stop yesterday). Then we had free time. Me and the other female interns sat around and talked, while Jordan (the only guy) was off somewhere. Also, it turns out my roommate Alice knows somebody at Stanford that I went to high school with, which was funny.

We had dinner here, just like last night. While last night we ordered for ourselves, tonight Angie (our coordinator) and Peter (our director, who is from Shikokho) selected food for us to share around the table. Might I add that the food is delicious! Chapati are kind of like a thick tortilla or Indian nan. Ugali is a starchy food like grits but more solid, that is used to push food around. The chicken and beef are both very good, and we had a lentil dish that was amazing; I really want to cook with my host mom now. After dinner, Peter also discussed Kenyan politics a little bit, which was intriguing in light of the not-too-distant unrest. Which bring me to a three things I forgot to mention yesterday.

Most of the drive was very scenic, very peaceful. I desperately wanted to stop and get my camera out. I would love to one day rent a car and drive this road again, at my own pace, camping out and really seeing the country through my lens. Or, in the spirit of Long Way Down, maybe I will try it on motorbike.

But two things really stand out as a reminder that the country is still settling down. It is only three months that things have been pulling back together. Along the drive there were many homes and businesses that had been burned down or wrecked. In a lot of places shops were closed, and some people are even living in tents or tin shanties. They are still very much rebuilding. Also, on the bus, we drove through several road blocks where tire strips had been setup to allow only one vehicle through at a time. Some of these stations were manned by police, a few of them carrying rifles that bring to mind the word Kalishnikov.

Another thing that has impressed me is the spirit of the people. Both Angie and Peter have mentioned it. They don't complain. They don't look at their lives and say, "Poor me. I have nothing. My life sucks." They approach it as, "Look at what I am blessed with, and how can I make it better." It is really the best in the human spirit…it's in suppressible. That is why the conflict here ended so quickly. The people looked around and said, "This is stupid. It's not working. We can't live like this." In an area so near to conflict in Eritrea, Ethiopia, Sudan, a region that witnessed the Rwandan genocide, instability in Uganda, and the ongoing situation in Darfur, Kenya has been the safe haven, the place for refugees to find relief. They saw the waste, and the fact that people were starving as violence disrupted food markets and began to work toward peace. And that is why there is so much hope for this country. It is the spirit of the people. And I am so honored to be able to learn from them and to work with them as they move into the future.

Good night to all, and hakuna matata!

In which I see zebras, and bounce my butt off for 8 hours.

2008-06-29T22:35:00.000-07:00

23 June 2008

Road trip to Kakamega!

After 8 hours on a bus over a bumpy road, we arrived.

We left Nairobi after 8 this morning. Throughout the day I saw a good portion of the country from the bus window. At first it felt really familiar to me, like I've know Kenya all my life. But by the end of the bus ride, I just felt like I had been on the bus my whole life.

The scenery was amazing. For the most part it was lush and green, although a part of the drive reminded me of the word Serengeti, and I could tell when we were in the Rift Valley region by the change in landscape to big, blocky hills, a little bit like driving through the hill country in Texas, kind of brown and scrubby. We drove past a forested part with great big cedar-like trees, and the ground covered in a fine carpet of green grass. I even saw a herd of zebras! For the most part, though, it was agricultural. Small plots of crops right next to the road, separated by a hedge of bushes or grass. Cattle, goats, donkeys tethered out to graze in the grass, but sometimes just roaming loose. There were a lot of little houses, some mud huts, some brick or stone or mud walls with metal roofs. I saw so much agriculture that it was hard to believe the economy is only 30% agriculture. But I guess that speak smore to the poverty and small-scale farming than the total magnitude. I'll be interested to find a number for land use. I saw at least one commercial farming operation, and then the tea farms began. Tea is one of the major exports and crops. it looks like one big hedge, taking up the whole field. Many of the tea farms had cluster of low, long white buildings, almost like barracks, where I'm pretty sure the workers live. I don't know who runs the operation. But several of the areas we drove by were farmed by co-operatives, meaning that the people are their own bosses. They even had their own Savings and Credit Cooperative Operation (SACCO), which is one of the vehicles for microfinance.

I saw a lot of evidences of development operation. UNICEF, World Vision, and local groups like a women's finance union.

All along the road there were people. People in the fields, people picking tea, people herding their animals, and lots of people resting. Most of the towns had a sort of central market, with people selling potatoes stacked up in pyramids, people selling clothes, shoes, furniture—Western and traditional. For the most part they worked out of cubical-stalls made from branches tied together, with their wares hung up or displayed in front. On one section of the road, people actually had built little mud walls out of the embankment with a sort of wooden ladder at one end where they were selling produce, lined up on the walls. And everywhere there was color, color, color! The fabric on women's clothes, school children's uniforms, laundry hung out to dry, and the paint on shop facades. Nearly every shop is brightly painted, often with advertisements on the sides for Safaricom cell service or Tusker beer or Mumias natural sugar, natural Kenyan sweetness.

Children are everywhere, too. Herding animals, playing football, walking home from school, sitting at the market with Mama, getting water from a pond, even swimming. They're adorable—the people here are so beautiful. When we got off the bus in Kakamega, several kids were peering at us from the school gate, saying hi shyly.

As for Kakamega, I like it already. It's much calmer than Nairobi, but is still pretty built up. It seems to be a good size. I'll have more to say tomorrow after we tour the city. Also, tomorrow, the beginning of Kiswahili school—3 hours! It's going to be intense.

Karibu Kenya

2008-06-29T22:33:00.000-07:00

22 June 2008

Nearing the end of my first day in Nairobi, and I'm still pretty exhausted, but first let me go over yesterday.

After a fitful night's sleep in the airport, I woke up at about 5 am in the arrivals hall of terminal 3 at Heathrow (for you Harlaxtonians, that's where we met for the first time). A tip to future airport sleepers, the arrivals hall generally has benches to sleep on, whereas departures usually does not. At about 6, I washed up in the restroom, rearranged some of my luggage, then proceded to sit for another hour and a half, reading this great book I picked up at King's Cross when I didn't make it to Grantham; tangentially, the book is written by Ewan Macgregor (yes, that one) and Charley Boorman. It's called Long Way Down, and is the story of their trip from the tip of Scotland to Cape Town, South Africa on motor bikes. I don't usually read travel writing, but I thought it would be appropriate to get me in the mood. The book, by the way, is excellent, really interesting.

Back to Heathrow, where I am killing time by reading in the arrivals hall because 4 hours is really too early to check in for a flight, isn't it? How wrong I was. Another poor decision. By the time I headed to check in it was about 7:30, 3 hours to go, and then I barely remembered that I was leaving from terminal 4, not terminal 3 ( I slept in terminal 3 because that's where I checked my bags in for the day in London). By the time I take the train to 4, it' probably more like 2 hours to departure. Still enough time, right? Not so much. Because I had to muddle around the departures terminal for a bit before I found where I needed to check in. It was extraordinarily crowded, so much so that they had to reroute us around the front of the terminal to get to the other side of check-ins. While I was wandering I witnessed an altercation. One gentleman had apparently nudge another with his baggage trolley, and the other party responded by roughing up his bags while saying, "Pushing's not going to make me move faster" or something to that effect. Apparently tempers where running a bit short, because as the rougher turns to move forward, the man with the trolley takes a flying leap and tackles him, trading words and punches while the other man yells, "Police!" This is all taking place on top of the toes of my shoes, and I was nearly pushed over by the flying man before I managed to edge away. No wonder the world is such a mess, when two grown men can't even move through a crowded airport civilly.

I get to what I think is the line for the flight to Nairobi, and it is snaking across the length of the arrivals hall. I think, "Man, I'm screwed. Chalk another one up to poor decisions." But then the man in front of me clarifies that this is the line for the Kenya Airways flight, and I get into the shorter British Airways like, where I run my info through a kiosk, get a ticket, and step into the queue for bag drop. Unfortunately, this line is pretty long, but moving, but then I realize my ticket is not a real boarding pass, and says I must see and agent to complete check-in. I wait in the line for probably 30 minutes, and when I get to the desk, she tells me they've overbooked the flight and I don't have a seat, but please go visit the man at the customer service desk, and he'll tell you what to do. She tags my bags and sends me off to the other line. After this wait, they give me 3#s to purchase a light refreshment. It is now 9:15; my gate closes in an hour. I'm supposed to come back at 9:50 and hopefully some people will not have shown up and I will have a seat.

I go get a water and an orange juice, and I'm praying that I get on this flight. At 9:50, I have a seat, and they fast track me through security, and I run to my plane.

I slept all but maybe an hour or 2 of my 10-hour flight, missing lunch in the process. I didn't have any problems through customs or finding my bags (thank God!), and I was able to find the program coordinator, Angie, who led me to where 2 other interns were waiting. And the funny thing was, my day wasn't the worst.

The other interns had flown in from Amsterdam, and had already been waiting for 2 hours. The other 2 interns were still in flight. In flight, in fact, on the same Kenya Airways flight whose huge line I had forgone earlier in the day. We probably waited another 2 hours before they landed, waited some more, then waited in the car, while one of them figured out where her luggage had gone. We were all exhausted and mostly sitting in dumb stupor. It was after midnight before we left the airport, and nearing 2 before I made it to bed.

It took me a long time to fall asleep, but sleeping under a mosquito net wasn't as bad as I though it might be for a mild claustrophobe. Mostly my brain was just awake.

Today was our day in Nairobi. We ate breakfast at the Americanized Java House, then walked the streets a little bit, taking in Central Park on Sunday, which is a lot like NYC's Central Park on Sunday: mostly families out enjoying the day. The flowers were beautiful. We walked through part of the downtown, taking in the parliament building, the convention center, and other government-related buildings. The architecture is really interesting, almost-blocky, and I'll try to find a picture for you later, since I didn't take any today. Then we took a public bus out to the suburb of Karen for lunch at an Indian restaurant. On the way we drove past some slums, and also a lot of vendors on the side of the road, most of them selling beautiful wood furniture. Nairobi is interesting in that the main city is encircled by slums before you reach the affluent suburbs, which is where we had lunch. I'm something of a car nut, so I spent a lot of the time on the bus car watching. I would have thought that a lot of European brands would have had a large market shared, but in fact nearly every car is a Toyota, with familiar names like the Rav-4 and Corolla being prevalent. In all nearly all the cars are Japanese made: I saw a few Hondas, and Isuzu and Nissan make a lot of the smaller trucks and busses. On our walk back to the hotel from the bus stop, we stopped at an internet café. It ends up costing about $1 an hour, which is far better than the 2-3# I paid in London. It's still expensive though. Considering that nearly half the country lives on an income near a dollar a day, technology is still elite, prohibitively expensive for the poor. Then we went to the supermarket, Nakumatt, which is actually a lot like Target and WalMart (or ASDA) in that they carry a lot of household and clothing items as well. While picking out fruit for our bus ride to Kakamega tomorrow, we ran into a group of American students doing mission work in Nairobi for 2 months, which was interesting. Now we're back at the hotel resting before dinner. It's about ten to 8, and I think I'm going to get back to my book to finish resting before dinner.

From my Kiswahili phrasebook,

nataka kupumzika. Kwa heri!

(I would like to rest. Bye!)—I think it's all phonetic…

I am not perfect?!

2008-06-29T22:32:00.000-07:00

20 June 2008

Well, here I am. I haven't even gotten to Kenya and I'm already a mess. To get a deal on my flight, I decided to take a 1-day layover in London. I planned to do the London Eye, then take a boat up to Greenwich to see the Royal Observatory and the Meridian line, which also included a quick peek at one of the world's most amazing staircases. Then I was going to take the train out to Grantham, have dinner with my host family from my semester abroad, and then head back to London.

But nothing I did to day went as I planned. Transportation time to the various venues was longer than anticipated (this after a 3-hr delay on my flight to Chicago yesterday). I quickly ran out of time to do everything I wanted, and as much as I pride myself on being a savvy traveler, I forgot to print off some semi-important information, I forgot to purchase a ticket to Grantham, and I found myself paralyzed by indecision several times, which lead to some poor choices, consuming even more time (and money). I ended up feeling like a can’t-hack-it pantywaist, a failure.

I learned several valuable things today. One, it's not about me. The choices I made were for things I wanted to do, and I ended up breaking my engagement with my family and putting them out in the process. Two, I am not in control. Three, I am indecisive. I knew this already, but when confronted with the indecision, action is preferable, and the choice that costs less time and money is usually more efficient in thae long haul. Four, I am not perfect (big shock to everyone, I know). Five, I can't do everything. I want to, but it's not always possible.

A horrible mess still turned into a pretty good day. And I learned some things that will probably become very applicable in the next week or so. Perhaps it's not such a bad way to begin. But for now, my legs are exhausted from walking all day, and I have another 11 hours in the airport before I take off. I still need to calculate what hours of sleep when, split between this time and my 11-hour flight tomorrow, will result in minimal jetlag.

I'll leave you with a remark from the Kenya section of my lonely planet guidebook for East Africa, that sums up my hopes, dreams, expectations for this trip:

Finally, sooner or later on any trip here you'll look up at the starry skies and feel Africa all around you, living, breathing, and fuelling a thousand dreams. Whatever your mental image, and whatever you move on to afterwards, Kenya will provide a crucial part of the picture, and it's a microcosm not to be missed.

Jambo

2008-06-22T08:18:00.000-07:00

Well, I'm here!
there's lots to tell about the trip here, but that'll have to wait until I can upload it from my laptop. more to come very soon.

Hi everyone!

2008-06-12T20:08:00.000-07:00

It's 12 June 2008. One week to departure.
There is so much work to be done, so many things to gather before that time.
I'm still waiting on host family information, but the plane tickets and travel visa are in place.

A brief itinerary:
19 June: fly from Houston to Chicago and Chicago to London
20 June: arrive in London, spend the day sightseeing and then take the train out to Grantham for dinner with my former host family.
21 June: fly all day to Nairobi
After arrival that night, I begin a week of orientation with 4 other interns, including 20 hours of kiswahili language (currently the only word I know is ingoho, chicken). Then the internship begins.
I leave Kenya on 24 August, layover in London 2 hours, then fly to Chicago, before getting on a plane to Evansville, 25 August. School begins 27 August.

I'm excited and I'm scared. I'm excited for the day in London, and later the experience of doing what I believe I'm meant to do with my life. I'm scared that I will hate it. At the same time, I know Kenya will break my heart thousands of times over, and I know I'm going to fall in love with this country, these people, and this job. I'm scared of the change, of getting to know the person I will be when this is all over. But I am so blessed to have this chance.

It's going to be stressful, and I will probably be a mess when I get back, but it's going to be amazing.