Tribes in Kenya are something that you would expect to be fairly comprehensible to an American, at least after some explaining. A tribe, after all, is just an ethnic group and every urban area in the US has plenty of those. However it really is so much more that it becomes very difficult for the average American to relate to what one's tribe means to a Kenyan. Tribes are far bigger and more important than the threads that tie people of the same ethnicity together. A tribe transcends a sense of identity, a common language or a cherished culture. And tribal stereotypes, though just as commonly held and just as partially true as ours in America, are no more than an often humorous side note. Unfortunately some of the more significant aspects are not so innocuous. When it comes down to it, tribe is the device an individual uses to distinguish "us" from "everyone else."
The general attitude is if you're of the same tribe, you're probably OK. If you're not, well then I don't know you and I don't trust what you're up to. It's funny to watch how Kenyan visitors are treated when they arrive at the market center nearest to me, which also serves as a bus stop. First the local men give sideways glances at the outsider (especially if it's another man), which quickly turn to flat out stares. If it seems the man doesn't know the place well and nobody knows him, someone will go up to the fellow and say something in Kikamba, the local tribal language. If the visitor responds in Kikamba, smiles explode and everyone lightens up and acts like family. If the visitor responds in Swahili then his questions will be answered politely yet coolly, and everyone will continue with their business with an eye kept on the stranger.
Even me, when I'm in different parts of the wider region inhabited by the Kamba people, if I speak the little Kikamba I know I am treated completely differently than if I use Swahili. Simply saying "Watinda ata?" (Kikamba for: How is your day going?) has people freaking out. They immediately start cracking up laughing, they want to know where I stay, what I'm doing, am I going to marry a Kamba woman (because we can ask each other how our days were, which is about the amount of interacting married couples do in the country side), and often a soda is offered. If I speak Swahili MAYBE they will note "Ah, you have learned some Swahili. Good for you." To have learned any Kikamba means I must have spent time with and been accepted by other Kambas somewhere, therefore I must be OK.
With 45 tribes in Kenya, and the largest comprising no more than 1/5th of Kenya's population, the problems come when you look at national politics. First of all Kenya got off to a bad start. Soon after gaining independence from the British in 1964, Kenya's founding president, a man of the majority tribe fittingly named Jomo Kenyatta, immediately seized the best pieces of land and distributed them to other members of his tribe. This set the tone early for tribalism and protecting narrow interests. To this day many people exclusively vote along tribal lines, and when elected into power a person is expected to use that influence to advance his or her tribe. Regardless if this means 'misappropriating' money or blocking a project in a rival tribe's land that might benefit the whole country.
Even worse, when any type of problem arises that incites tribal tensions violence is not uncommon. This is usually fairly isolated and tends to happen in more urban areas dominated by a single tribe but with a small but significant population of another tribe. During the 2007 election tampering was suspected by the majority tribe which has dominated national politics due to their strength in numbers. In the aftermath there were pockets of vicious violence against that majority tribe which ended up killing over 2,000 people and displacing around 300,000 more. Peace Corps actually pulled all Volunteers out of the country for six months (my group was the first full, new group to return).
Most of the time most people of all tribes get along just fine. But the fractiousness of tribalism makes national unity elusive and stability tenuous when issues of national importance arise. Living in Kenya has made me appreciate what Iraq and Afghanistan must be going through. You have all these distinct ethnic groups who may or may not see any connection whatsoever with each other, and you're asking them to become a single nation that they may or may not want to be a part of, under leadership that most absolutely do not support. There are bound to be bumps in the road. Luckily Kenyans have gone well beyond questioning whether they should be a single state or multiple. And as more people become educated and the population shifts to urban areas where peoples naturally mingle tribalism should slowly dissipate. Though for the foreseeable future tribes and tribalism are going to be shaping forces in Kenya. This will keep it an interesting place, with an enormous diversity of cultures existing right next to one another, but it will also hinder development and make national elections dangerously contentious affairs.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Thursday, February 11, 2010
still alive here
OK just in case anyone still checks this thing and has concern about my well being, worry not. All is well. I just haven't been feeling the motivation to keep up with this blogging madness. Though I'm feeling a little juice again I can't promise I'm going to all of a sudden post any more regularly than I did in my first year. Regardless of frequency, I might as well write to the world while I still have something interesting to write about. Even though I have a solid ten months remaining it truly does feel like I've entered the downswing of service.
Looking back at my old posts I think I've done a decent job of telling the story of what I go through over here. My trials, my tribulations, my victories, my failures; all the emotions evoked in the process. However I noticed I really have neglected one of the major characters in this whole experience, which is tragic for reasons beyond poor story telling. There's an actor that shapes literally every single day's events, yet I mention her in passing as a part of some specific story. Shameful. And the aggrieved one is Kenya, of course. I've provided bits and pieces on landscapes and a general sense of what the people are like, but nothing trying to explain what Africa is in reality. Part of the reason I've largely left this alone is that so much here is so different from life in America that there is no point of reference I can offer to make understanding any easier. Despite the fact that a lot of the things about Africa just wont make sense to the American perspective, I still think it's worth trying to explain. First of all this place really is fascinating for a ton of reasons. You have these many different traditional African cultures surrounding the bastion of modernity of Nairobi, with each trying to maintain some of the uniqueness of their own identities all while coalescing around modern principles of education, opportunity and equality. To me nothing represents that better than the tiny old man with a bow and arrows who got on the same bus as me a few weeks back. Now that man is what you might call old school. He probably travels armed because as a young man he was a clan warrior who had the responsibility of protecting cattle from raiders, now just hasn't come to grips to this world of speeding metal boxes. And it's a safe bet that his grandson lives in Nairobi hustling to make money however he can so that he has enough to send back to his wife in the country side to pay for their kids' school fees. When you step back and look at this world with that progression in mind you start to appreciate how far many areas have come and understand why certain things don't happen faster. The other big reason I want to talk about Africa itself is to show that there is more to it than AIDS, dictators, abject poverty and genocide. Unfortunately recent and current history has provided enough of those tragic happenings that these widely held Western perceptions aren't completely misplaced. Still, it is not accurate for the vast majority of this continent's inhabitants and even when the perception might be accurate it is grossly misunderstood. While I certainly can't speak on behalf of all of Africa, I can speak with some authority on the tiny sliver that I've been immersed in for over a year now, which is probably fairly representative of a number of other parts where people are struggling to simply lead happy and fruitful lives, with the hopes that their efforts will make things at least a little better for future generations.
Before I go I absolutely need to mention that the library is officially and completely finished! I don't think me extending one more thank you to all those that supported this effort will really be doing much of anything, so instead I will share the short thank you note a student wrote to Ade Otenaike and Wings of the Dawn. Tobias Isika is exactly the type of student I have in mind when I say something like "this library can change lives!" It will be a very nice thing to many many people, but to someone like Tobias who's very curious, very ambitious and works hard, a library just might be the outlet he needs to develop and reach his potential in life. He's already finished a few of the Harry Potter books and every week his name is all over the library log. This note was addressed to Ade, but the message certainly goes out to everyone who contributed:
I would like to thank you on behalf of all the library going addicts in Nduluku Secondary. Warning this to you means I am the most addicted due to your generosity for equping our libary. Words alone could not express how grateful I am for the opportunity you have given us (especially me). It has boosted my creativity and increased my knowledge at an alarming rate. It has also enabled me to see the world in a whole new perspective. May the Almight God bless you. Amen.
Tobias Isika
Looking back at my old posts I think I've done a decent job of telling the story of what I go through over here. My trials, my tribulations, my victories, my failures; all the emotions evoked in the process. However I noticed I really have neglected one of the major characters in this whole experience, which is tragic for reasons beyond poor story telling. There's an actor that shapes literally every single day's events, yet I mention her in passing as a part of some specific story. Shameful. And the aggrieved one is Kenya, of course. I've provided bits and pieces on landscapes and a general sense of what the people are like, but nothing trying to explain what Africa is in reality. Part of the reason I've largely left this alone is that so much here is so different from life in America that there is no point of reference I can offer to make understanding any easier. Despite the fact that a lot of the things about Africa just wont make sense to the American perspective, I still think it's worth trying to explain. First of all this place really is fascinating for a ton of reasons. You have these many different traditional African cultures surrounding the bastion of modernity of Nairobi, with each trying to maintain some of the uniqueness of their own identities all while coalescing around modern principles of education, opportunity and equality. To me nothing represents that better than the tiny old man with a bow and arrows who got on the same bus as me a few weeks back. Now that man is what you might call old school. He probably travels armed because as a young man he was a clan warrior who had the responsibility of protecting cattle from raiders, now just hasn't come to grips to this world of speeding metal boxes. And it's a safe bet that his grandson lives in Nairobi hustling to make money however he can so that he has enough to send back to his wife in the country side to pay for their kids' school fees. When you step back and look at this world with that progression in mind you start to appreciate how far many areas have come and understand why certain things don't happen faster. The other big reason I want to talk about Africa itself is to show that there is more to it than AIDS, dictators, abject poverty and genocide. Unfortunately recent and current history has provided enough of those tragic happenings that these widely held Western perceptions aren't completely misplaced. Still, it is not accurate for the vast majority of this continent's inhabitants and even when the perception might be accurate it is grossly misunderstood. While I certainly can't speak on behalf of all of Africa, I can speak with some authority on the tiny sliver that I've been immersed in for over a year now, which is probably fairly representative of a number of other parts where people are struggling to simply lead happy and fruitful lives, with the hopes that their efforts will make things at least a little better for future generations.
Before I go I absolutely need to mention that the library is officially and completely finished! I don't think me extending one more thank you to all those that supported this effort will really be doing much of anything, so instead I will share the short thank you note a student wrote to Ade Otenaike and Wings of the Dawn. Tobias Isika is exactly the type of student I have in mind when I say something like "this library can change lives!" It will be a very nice thing to many many people, but to someone like Tobias who's very curious, very ambitious and works hard, a library just might be the outlet he needs to develop and reach his potential in life. He's already finished a few of the Harry Potter books and every week his name is all over the library log. This note was addressed to Ade, but the message certainly goes out to everyone who contributed:
I would like to thank you on behalf of all the library going addicts in Nduluku Secondary. Warning this to you means I am the most addicted due to your generosity for equping our libary. Words alone could not express how grateful I am for the opportunity you have given us (especially me). It has boosted my creativity and increased my knowledge at an alarming rate. It has also enabled me to see the world in a whole new perspective. May the Almight God bless you. Amen.
Tobias Isika
Saturday, November 14, 2009
put it on the board!
Folks, we're no longer dealing in fractions here. I and the thirty or so remaining Volunteers from my training group have now been in Kenya for a full year. I think nearly everybody would agree with me when I say that the time has been some of the most interesting, enlightening and rewarding (though the latter most tends to be quite fleeting) life has yet to serve up. I also know that everybody would whole heartedly agree with me when I say that it has been at least equally disheartening, uncomfortable and all around difficult. Because a plane ticket back to an easier more comfortable life is just a phone call away, I congratulate everyone from my group, and really all Peace Corps Volunteers (except for those guys who are on some sweet beach in Costa Rica or some country like that), for pushing through. In this existence surviving ain't no small thing.
With that self-congratulation out of the way, I have to say that for myself the reward has been beyond worth the struggle. Sitting here trying to catalog all the ways this experience has served me is no easy task. The things I'm getting to do with work are infinitely more interesting, challenging and aligned with my values than anything else I could possibly be doing right now. When I came here I was somewhere between highly uncomfortable and terrified to speak in front of crowds. Now every gathering I go to I'm asked to say something (because I'm in the interior of Africa and white). More than a couple times I've had to speak in front of over 400 community members and I'd like to think that I was comfortable enough that I did a decent job. Granted that comfort might not perfectly translate over to the context where most people actually understand what I am saying, but hey, at least I know I can do it. And having the opportunity to spend the day to day looking at the big picture trying to solve problems from scratch, getting people to cooperate with no real authority, and using all that as a platform to build people up and change mindset; with all do respect to my previous employer, it certainly beats trying to get people to buy a sponsorship.
Also getting to (alright maybe at first it was: being forced to) understand and integrate into a culture and value system that is so vastly different from what we have in America that there is no way I could ever get you to understand it. Not to mention that a lot of the people I live with are in a type of poverty that would have been unimaginable to the world I previously knew. And to see them in that condition but still happy and enjoying life. It really opens your mind.
When I joined Peace Corps I wasn't too sure how I was going to fit in with other Volunteers. You know I'm at least kinda jockish, or as a past colleague would say: a bro, and I wasn't sure how that would mesh with the average person who decides to spend two years of their life doing whatever it is that Peace Corps Volunteers do. I've found that there is no typical Volunteer and people join for a multitude of reasons (on a related note I'd like to do a post on the misconception that is altruism). My training class is crazy diverse but if you got to know them all the two traits you would see the most are the desire to do things that matter and the desire to do things that are interesting. Not bad qualities to have in your companions for something like a two year stint in Kenya. More so, not bad qualities to have in people that you'll inevitably be linked to indefinitely.
Now I could go on and on, but the last thing I'll mention is the excitement of just living the life and seeing the sites that come with spending a year in Kenya. It's an absolutely beautiful country that is as geographically diverse as a New York City subway train is ethnically diverse. Even my area, which is not at all special by Kenya's standards, is stunning. When I'm bored or demoralized nothing picks me back up or reminds me of the uniqueness of this whole experience more than a ride on a country bus. Speaking of being bored, that is near the top of my list of complaints these days. I'm used to so much of what was once new and exciting that when things get slow man I just do not know what to do with myself. Despite that I still think my life is in the net more interesting than what it would be even if I was still living in New York. There is more of a pure rush in getting off the bus into that crazy depot in Nairobi and more excitement in a single night out until 5 in some semi-shady club to compensate for the slowness of village life.
Of course there are the down sides. A lot of the things that ostensibly fall in this category actually just provide a challenge or a change of pace. But unfortunately there are many that do nothing but grind on my patience, will, spirit or all of the above. Number one on this list would ironically enough be the same thing you would find on my list of positives: people. Part of this stems from the frustrations of working on rural African time (a 9am meeting actually starts at 11am, and people will STILL be JUST showing up at 1:30 or 2...that's five hours late people!). But it's also more substantial than that. Most of the older community leaders are far more interested in politics than they are in development. Community groups are vehicles for gossip and opportunities to have a title, rather than any type of real mobilizing initiative. I tried a little bit to change that at first, which I quickly learned was A) a huge mistake and B) impossible. Now I've accepted it and try to get things done within it, but honestly I tire of it all very quickly. Also people regularly disappoint. They say they will do something, which you're relying on, then they don't. Or someone helps me out with something and I start to think they're decent but it turns out that they just want me to give them money or to get me to ask the General to help with some problem they're having (and he always listens and often tries to assist). And occasionally I have found out that people I have been working with or just respect are as corrupt as a human being can possibly be (and I will definitely post about corruption in Kenya at some point, it's awful and complex and interesting all at the same time). If a series of those events come in a row it can get to be a bit much. You start to wonder what the point of it all is. When I get into these modes, which isn't too frequently but it does occur, I look for some kids to pick me up. First of all they're just about always really excited to see me (I now understand the appeal of being reality TV start, being adored for no real merit doesn't take away from the fun at all). Plus they remind me that there is a future. These kids deserve more opportunities than what this place currently offers, and they should not have to pay for the sins of their parents and grandparents.
This next thing has slowly started to wear off, but man not getting to see football is killing me. The first few weeks of the NFL season were brutal. Broncos starting 6-0! Say what! Of course this happens when I can't see a single game. This might seem like a small thing to a lot of people, but it's weird and depressing to have something that was such a big part of my life almost completely absent, at least absent in a meaningful way.
I'm an optimist and part of the way one achieves optimism is by deliberately not focusing on the negative, so this will be the last difficulty I'll mention (because I could go on and on with this too). I'm really pleased with the way I've integrated into my community and I have a lot of people who I consider to be real friends. But no one really understands the world I come from and the struggles I deal with. I mean I don't think there's a single villager that even knows what American football is! Most or the time this is more than fine, but occasionally it would be nice to be able to reminisce about college or vent a bit about the meeting that nobody showed up for or have someone else appreciate how insane looking some bird is.
Each one of the difficulties I face, listed and unlisted, isn't too bad by itself. Occasionally a few descend on me at once, and those are the times this becomes a really hard gig. But Peace Corps recruiters tell you early on in the application process that this will be the toughest job you ever love. Truly stated.
Two quick side points:
1) My mom did good job telling all the interesting stories from their visit that I didn't see any need to elaborate. Eliot was going to do an entry but he's been bitching about being busy with law school and wanting to get the most out of his 100K+ investment or something like that. Mixed up priorities if you ask me. If you haven't checked the blog for a while take a look at the previous post. Moms made an excellent contribution.
2) The library is getting very closed to completion! All the money was raised for the furnishings so now we are waiting for the money to transfer so construction can get started. In just a few short weeks the library itself will be all wrapped up! The books are already being used by students and teachers, but I have a lot of work to do in getting most of the villagers to understand how a library functions and encourage them to at least get books for their young ones to read. This will require real effort for a number of people, but a lot of fairly well educated people and shop keepers are excited about it. Once it is completed I will get pictures up one way or another and do a blog post/email dedicated to the event. Thanks to all who contributed!
With that self-congratulation out of the way, I have to say that for myself the reward has been beyond worth the struggle. Sitting here trying to catalog all the ways this experience has served me is no easy task. The things I'm getting to do with work are infinitely more interesting, challenging and aligned with my values than anything else I could possibly be doing right now. When I came here I was somewhere between highly uncomfortable and terrified to speak in front of crowds. Now every gathering I go to I'm asked to say something (because I'm in the interior of Africa and white). More than a couple times I've had to speak in front of over 400 community members and I'd like to think that I was comfortable enough that I did a decent job. Granted that comfort might not perfectly translate over to the context where most people actually understand what I am saying, but hey, at least I know I can do it. And having the opportunity to spend the day to day looking at the big picture trying to solve problems from scratch, getting people to cooperate with no real authority, and using all that as a platform to build people up and change mindset; with all do respect to my previous employer, it certainly beats trying to get people to buy a sponsorship.
Also getting to (alright maybe at first it was: being forced to) understand and integrate into a culture and value system that is so vastly different from what we have in America that there is no way I could ever get you to understand it. Not to mention that a lot of the people I live with are in a type of poverty that would have been unimaginable to the world I previously knew. And to see them in that condition but still happy and enjoying life. It really opens your mind.
When I joined Peace Corps I wasn't too sure how I was going to fit in with other Volunteers. You know I'm at least kinda jockish, or as a past colleague would say: a bro, and I wasn't sure how that would mesh with the average person who decides to spend two years of their life doing whatever it is that Peace Corps Volunteers do. I've found that there is no typical Volunteer and people join for a multitude of reasons (on a related note I'd like to do a post on the misconception that is altruism). My training class is crazy diverse but if you got to know them all the two traits you would see the most are the desire to do things that matter and the desire to do things that are interesting. Not bad qualities to have in your companions for something like a two year stint in Kenya. More so, not bad qualities to have in people that you'll inevitably be linked to indefinitely.
Now I could go on and on, but the last thing I'll mention is the excitement of just living the life and seeing the sites that come with spending a year in Kenya. It's an absolutely beautiful country that is as geographically diverse as a New York City subway train is ethnically diverse. Even my area, which is not at all special by Kenya's standards, is stunning. When I'm bored or demoralized nothing picks me back up or reminds me of the uniqueness of this whole experience more than a ride on a country bus. Speaking of being bored, that is near the top of my list of complaints these days. I'm used to so much of what was once new and exciting that when things get slow man I just do not know what to do with myself. Despite that I still think my life is in the net more interesting than what it would be even if I was still living in New York. There is more of a pure rush in getting off the bus into that crazy depot in Nairobi and more excitement in a single night out until 5 in some semi-shady club to compensate for the slowness of village life.
Of course there are the down sides. A lot of the things that ostensibly fall in this category actually just provide a challenge or a change of pace. But unfortunately there are many that do nothing but grind on my patience, will, spirit or all of the above. Number one on this list would ironically enough be the same thing you would find on my list of positives: people. Part of this stems from the frustrations of working on rural African time (a 9am meeting actually starts at 11am, and people will STILL be JUST showing up at 1:30 or 2...that's five hours late people!). But it's also more substantial than that. Most of the older community leaders are far more interested in politics than they are in development. Community groups are vehicles for gossip and opportunities to have a title, rather than any type of real mobilizing initiative. I tried a little bit to change that at first, which I quickly learned was A) a huge mistake and B) impossible. Now I've accepted it and try to get things done within it, but honestly I tire of it all very quickly. Also people regularly disappoint. They say they will do something, which you're relying on, then they don't. Or someone helps me out with something and I start to think they're decent but it turns out that they just want me to give them money or to get me to ask the General to help with some problem they're having (and he always listens and often tries to assist). And occasionally I have found out that people I have been working with or just respect are as corrupt as a human being can possibly be (and I will definitely post about corruption in Kenya at some point, it's awful and complex and interesting all at the same time). If a series of those events come in a row it can get to be a bit much. You start to wonder what the point of it all is. When I get into these modes, which isn't too frequently but it does occur, I look for some kids to pick me up. First of all they're just about always really excited to see me (I now understand the appeal of being reality TV start, being adored for no real merit doesn't take away from the fun at all). Plus they remind me that there is a future. These kids deserve more opportunities than what this place currently offers, and they should not have to pay for the sins of their parents and grandparents.
This next thing has slowly started to wear off, but man not getting to see football is killing me. The first few weeks of the NFL season were brutal. Broncos starting 6-0! Say what! Of course this happens when I can't see a single game. This might seem like a small thing to a lot of people, but it's weird and depressing to have something that was such a big part of my life almost completely absent, at least absent in a meaningful way.
I'm an optimist and part of the way one achieves optimism is by deliberately not focusing on the negative, so this will be the last difficulty I'll mention (because I could go on and on with this too). I'm really pleased with the way I've integrated into my community and I have a lot of people who I consider to be real friends. But no one really understands the world I come from and the struggles I deal with. I mean I don't think there's a single villager that even knows what American football is! Most or the time this is more than fine, but occasionally it would be nice to be able to reminisce about college or vent a bit about the meeting that nobody showed up for or have someone else appreciate how insane looking some bird is.
Each one of the difficulties I face, listed and unlisted, isn't too bad by itself. Occasionally a few descend on me at once, and those are the times this becomes a really hard gig. But Peace Corps recruiters tell you early on in the application process that this will be the toughest job you ever love. Truly stated.
Two quick side points:
1) My mom did good job telling all the interesting stories from their visit that I didn't see any need to elaborate. Eliot was going to do an entry but he's been bitching about being busy with law school and wanting to get the most out of his 100K+ investment or something like that. Mixed up priorities if you ask me. If you haven't checked the blog for a while take a look at the previous post. Moms made an excellent contribution.
2) The library is getting very closed to completion! All the money was raised for the furnishings so now we are waiting for the money to transfer so construction can get started. In just a few short weeks the library itself will be all wrapped up! The books are already being used by students and teachers, but I have a lot of work to do in getting most of the villagers to understand how a library functions and encourage them to at least get books for their young ones to read. This will require real effort for a number of people, but a lot of fairly well educated people and shop keepers are excited about it. Once it is completed I will get pictures up one way or another and do a blog post/email dedicated to the event. Thanks to all who contributed!
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Mom's post
Entry for Alex’s blog
First I want to say I am very proud of Alex for doing this and want to thank him for including Eliot and me in his Kenyan experience.
As a child every time a Nat. Geographic Mag arrived in the mail I would spend hours looking at the pictures of Africa…the elephants, the Masai people, Mt Kilimanjaro, the sweet babies riding on their mama’ back ..never did I think I would ever have an opportunity to go there. Thank you Alex for giving me such an unbelievable opportunity.
we could not see much of Mt Kilimanjaro, just a very thin strip of snow in the distant clouds.
We stopped at the Makindu Children’s Center, a school for Aids orphans. It was heart warming and also very distressing. The children get such wonderful care there but their lives are so tenuous, they have so little yet they had such wide eyes and big smiles, they warmed up to us very quickly and were so proud to show us their school work(they speak 3 languages). It made all the Stuff in our children’s lives seem almost obscene. No that stuff isn’t good but these children who have so little seemed to be able to get such pleasure from the little they have.
I have to tell you about travelling in the matatu bus. This is the way the Kenyans travel. It’s a bus about the size of a VW bus, has seats for about 15 people but does not leave the bus “station” until it has boarded at least 25 people, 30 bags of onions, several water barrels on top,3 men collecting money and tickets a driver and a man sitting next to the driver for what reason I am not sure. It stops anywhere, in the middle of nowhere, picks people up anywhere and in the middle of nowhere! Alex, Eliot and I shared the last seat in the back, each of us with our back packs on our laps, for 4 hrs on a dirt rd…one of those roads with no road signs, many pot holes or should I say mini dirt ditches every 10 feet. On the way back (there is only one way to go to and from Oloitokitok-the way I just described) we were smart and got a seat in the front of the bus…but still the 3 of us on one seat with our back packs on our laps…no come to think of it Eliot’s pack was put on the top of the bus under one of those bags of onions! The people in Alex’s site village also welcome us with such overwhelming generous hospitality. They really appreciate Alex and were so honored and flattered that his family would travel so far to visit him in their village. Another goat was slaughtered in our honor which was okay because all the people in the village were invited to the feast and got to eat a lot too. We met the principal of the primary and secondary schools. The kids very excited, swarmed around us when we walked into the school yard. Other than Alex I’m not sure they have had much exposure to white people especially one with a beard and one with long gray hair! They think our English sounds funny. The safari on the Masai Mara was fantastic. Being 4 feet from an elephant was so cool! Our last morning we went on an elephant hunt and saw UP CLOSE a big mama with her baby, and 3 aunts…one stood right behind our vehicle checking us out with her trunk while the mama and baby almost walked into the front of the vehicle…they freaked out our driver!!! We saw a big male lion resting after his morning kill, many zebra, a 1 day old giraffe running with his mama and 16 million wildebeest in a single line, horizon to horizon heading toward the Mara River. It was quite spectacular. I sat in front of a camp fire early in the morning with a Masai warrior talking about our similar beaded bracelets…mine had 3 colors, his had 2 colors, he taught me how to say thank you in Masai (shantee..if you ever need it) Then on the other end of the spectrum we stayed at the General’s house in Nairobi, and were very well taken care of. Again the General appreciates Alex and Peace Corps Volunteers and couldn’t say enough about their work. The General grew up in the village and is quite eager for it to prosper and he feels Alex is helping make that happen. My trip to Kenya was Fantastic…go visit Alex if you can. Again Alex thank you for making those National Geographic mag pictures come to life.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
and finally...pics
Surprise! The pics are coming a little bit later than expected. Forgive me, I'm working on Kenyan time. Without further ado I offer what is actually wanted:
A link to the photo album from the fam's trip!
For the less tech savvy: click on the above link to access the album. Mom uploaded over 400 pictures to a Kodak gallery and I wasn't going to ask her to go through all that hassle again on Picasa for the sake of a little bit of convenience.
Ninataka kuandika zaidi lakini sasa nina njaa na ninahitaji kupika chakula cha jioni. Pole sana, labda nitafanya kesho. (I want to write more but I'm hungry and I need to make dinner. Sorry, maybe I'll do tomorrow...I said I'd try to work some Swahili into this thing.)
A link to the photo album from the fam's trip!
For the less tech savvy: click on the above link to access the album. Mom uploaded over 400 pictures to a Kodak gallery and I wasn't going to ask her to go through all that hassle again on Picasa for the sake of a little bit of convenience.
Ninataka kuandika zaidi lakini sasa nina njaa na ninahitaji kupika chakula cha jioni. Pole sana, labda nitafanya kesho. (I want to write more but I'm hungry and I need to make dinner. Sorry, maybe I'll do tomorrow...I said I'd try to work some Swahili into this thing.)
Monday, August 3, 2009
Mom & Eliot - Part 1
Whew! So Eliot and Mom have come, stayed and left. It was an interesting 14 days full of crazy bus rides, being force fed excessive amounts of food, big animals, absurd gifts, being force fed even more, all while seeing just about every side of Kenya there is to see. I have to say I'm quite impressed with both Mom and Eliot. They were thrown into the fire and rolled with the punches that inevitably come when traveling Peace Corps style. By the end I think they might even have been enjoying the bone chattering bus rides through the country side. Well "enjoy" is probably too strong a word. "Cheerfully tolerate" might be more accurate. Either way I think they're going to share some of their impressions of this fine country once they've had time to digest everything.
However, whatever I say and whatever they say, so much of our experience can't every really be articulated. There were certainly noteworthy events and stories, and those will be recounted. But I don't know if there is enough story telling ingenuity on the face of the earth to truly capture things like a simple exchange with a traditional Masai man who might have never talked to a white person before, or the sensory overload of a bus ride where the aisles are packed with giant bags of noxious onions, dust is blowing mercilessly through the door that can't be closed because the bus is too full, crazy old African men are acting especially crazy, the road is so rough that the windows are shaking to the point that it has to be considered a miracle that they haven't shattered, and despite all that every twenty or so minutes something so outlandish happens that you manage to be shocked. Some of those experiences involve a certain amount of misery as you go through them, but I'm happy Eliot and Mom got their share because I have a feeling that's what they, and I, will remember in ten years.
As the title implies, details will be coming in a few installments. First I'm just going to give a brief outline of where we went and what we saw. Following posts will have pictures, stories and some commentary from my two visitors.
The adventure began almost immediately after they arrived. Their flight landed at 6:30 AM in Nairobi and less than twelve hours later we were waiting for the night train to the coastal city of Mombasa. The night train is a little bit of a blast from the past with its less than shoulder width hallways, cabins only slightly wider and timeless decor. If you've seen The Darjeerling Limited it's like that but with better scenery. After two days and nights of being tourists in Mombasa we got on one of the legendary public buses headed to Loitokitok to see Mama Alice and the rest of my host family. Even though the first leg was on a pretty nice bus and paved road, it did provide one of the most uncomfortable experiences of my time in Kenya, and possibly life, when the unedited version of Akon's I wanna f*ck you was blaring as I sat next to my mom (warning: don't Google those lyrics if you're easily offended).
Mama Alice was her usual overbearingly welcoming self, feeding everyone until they were nauseous and refusing any help whatsoever. She really is a great and kind woman, and I think Eliot and Mom will agree with that. From Loitokitok we traveled half way to Mbumbuni (my site) to a town called Makindu, staying at a cool Sikh temple that has lodging for all types of weary travelers, which we most certainly were at that point. In the morning we visited another Volunteer's place of work, a nursery school and support center for orphans of the HIV/AIDS epidemic. I've been in Kenya almost 9 months now, and I like to think that I'm pretty hardened to the realities of Africa. But going to a place like the Makindu Children's Center requires serious effort on my part to stay composed. I think it was while watching parentless five year olds, most of whom are lucky if they get two meals a day, playing with old broken toys that Mom and Eliot started to grasp the crazy abundance we have back in the US, and how frighteningly little of the essentials Africa has. Here's the website for the center - http://makindu.org/. It's definitely a place that will put donations to good use.
After that excursion it was off to my home in Kenya, the sprawling metropolis (sarcasm) that is Mbumbuni. Almost immediately we went to the Secondary School where I teach, and oh were they ready for us. Exams were stopped so the whole school could assemble to present us with their gifts for Eliot and Mom. Mom got a traditional bag that Kamba (the predominant tribe of the area) women use to lug stuff the many kilometers they walk daily. When it was time for Eliot to get his, there was some big commotion about the gift being misplaced so the principal sent two students out looking for it. A few minutes later they came back sharing the burden of carrying a 6 foot 2 inch, 75 pound carved giraffe. The thing is nothing less than absurdly massive. An incredibly generous and memorable gift, I must say, but they've put us in a little bit of a conundrum in figuring out how to get it back to the US. Whatever the shipping cost ends up being, I'm sure it's worth the conversation starter Eliot has for his future home. Other than school, we went around and saw the projects the community and I have been working on. General Kianga came with his wife for a night and they held a small dinner for us and about a dozen neighbors. The next day there was a bigger community celebration that saw the trip's second slaughtering of a goat. This party also probably made me feel as appreciated as I ever have. The community groups did give a few "real" gifts like carvings (normal sized, for better or worse) and some traditional garb for my mom, but then a bunch of old ladies who own next to nothing and don't speak a word of English came and gave bag after bag of fruit from their farms. This seemed to be far more genuine than a lot of the bigger more formal tokens of appreciation I''ve seen or received in Kenya. The stay in Mbumbuni concluded with the church I go to having a send off service, also borderline over the top, for us.
From Mbumbuni we went on a safari in the Masai Mara. We got there just in time for the beginning of the great wildebeest migration, which is when millions of grazing animals (mostly wildebeests, obviously, but also tons of zebras and gazelles) leave the savannas of Kenya for the Serengeti in Tanzania. Unfortunately we did not get to see the epic climax of thousands of animals surging across a crocodile infested river, but we did see a few lions laying down trying to catch their breath before eating the prey they just caught. On top of that there was a pretty terrifying up close and personal encounter with a family of elephants. This is also where I had my 26th birthday. I can't say that I ever expected to spend a birthday on an African campsite with Czech women from the Humanist Movement and a few men wearing red dresses (more or less) and holes the size of golf balls in both ear lobes. Just so there's no confusion the latter isn't referring to myself and Eliot, the camp is run by a Westernized Masai man who employs traditional Masai warriors for guards (and for the sake of authenticity).
The last day and a half was spent in Nairobi, preparing to get back to our various realities. Again, it was a great trip for me, and from what I saw and heard I think the fam is going to concur when they have a chance to formally respond. That's most of the generalities, more specifics to come!
Before I go, and this will get its due attention soon enough, I need to announce that the books for the Nduluku library are on their way! Mr. Ade Otenaike, the President of Wings of the Dawn, agreed to send the books out before all the money was raised in order to get this thing up and going sooner rather than later. I and the students and staff of Nduluku are GREATLY appreciative of everyone who donated, and to Wings of the Dawn for everything they've provided and done, as well as their shared sense of urgency. But I was hesitant to make any announcement for a reason! My work in sales, and the influence of some good bosses, taught me to have the discipline to not count any chickens before they've hatched. There is still a lot of work that needs to be done before there are real fruits from everyone's labor. I need to do a lot on the ground here and I think there might be a fundraiser or two in the works to get the remaining money and to help ensure the library is furnished properly. Regardless, thanks to everyone for helping get to this point:) Soon updates about the library will be posted on the Wings of the Dawn Facebook page - linked here - which I encourage everyone to join so that you can follow easily.
However, whatever I say and whatever they say, so much of our experience can't every really be articulated. There were certainly noteworthy events and stories, and those will be recounted. But I don't know if there is enough story telling ingenuity on the face of the earth to truly capture things like a simple exchange with a traditional Masai man who might have never talked to a white person before, or the sensory overload of a bus ride where the aisles are packed with giant bags of noxious onions, dust is blowing mercilessly through the door that can't be closed because the bus is too full, crazy old African men are acting especially crazy, the road is so rough that the windows are shaking to the point that it has to be considered a miracle that they haven't shattered, and despite all that every twenty or so minutes something so outlandish happens that you manage to be shocked. Some of those experiences involve a certain amount of misery as you go through them, but I'm happy Eliot and Mom got their share because I have a feeling that's what they, and I, will remember in ten years.
As the title implies, details will be coming in a few installments. First I'm just going to give a brief outline of where we went and what we saw. Following posts will have pictures, stories and some commentary from my two visitors.
The adventure began almost immediately after they arrived. Their flight landed at 6:30 AM in Nairobi and less than twelve hours later we were waiting for the night train to the coastal city of Mombasa. The night train is a little bit of a blast from the past with its less than shoulder width hallways, cabins only slightly wider and timeless decor. If you've seen The Darjeerling Limited it's like that but with better scenery. After two days and nights of being tourists in Mombasa we got on one of the legendary public buses headed to Loitokitok to see Mama Alice and the rest of my host family. Even though the first leg was on a pretty nice bus and paved road, it did provide one of the most uncomfortable experiences of my time in Kenya, and possibly life, when the unedited version of Akon's I wanna f*ck you was blaring as I sat next to my mom (warning: don't Google those lyrics if you're easily offended).
Mama Alice was her usual overbearingly welcoming self, feeding everyone until they were nauseous and refusing any help whatsoever. She really is a great and kind woman, and I think Eliot and Mom will agree with that. From Loitokitok we traveled half way to Mbumbuni (my site) to a town called Makindu, staying at a cool Sikh temple that has lodging for all types of weary travelers, which we most certainly were at that point. In the morning we visited another Volunteer's place of work, a nursery school and support center for orphans of the HIV/AIDS epidemic. I've been in Kenya almost 9 months now, and I like to think that I'm pretty hardened to the realities of Africa. But going to a place like the Makindu Children's Center requires serious effort on my part to stay composed. I think it was while watching parentless five year olds, most of whom are lucky if they get two meals a day, playing with old broken toys that Mom and Eliot started to grasp the crazy abundance we have back in the US, and how frighteningly little of the essentials Africa has. Here's the website for the center - http://makindu.org/. It's definitely a place that will put donations to good use.
After that excursion it was off to my home in Kenya, the sprawling metropolis (sarcasm) that is Mbumbuni. Almost immediately we went to the Secondary School where I teach, and oh were they ready for us. Exams were stopped so the whole school could assemble to present us with their gifts for Eliot and Mom. Mom got a traditional bag that Kamba (the predominant tribe of the area) women use to lug stuff the many kilometers they walk daily. When it was time for Eliot to get his, there was some big commotion about the gift being misplaced so the principal sent two students out looking for it. A few minutes later they came back sharing the burden of carrying a 6 foot 2 inch, 75 pound carved giraffe. The thing is nothing less than absurdly massive. An incredibly generous and memorable gift, I must say, but they've put us in a little bit of a conundrum in figuring out how to get it back to the US. Whatever the shipping cost ends up being, I'm sure it's worth the conversation starter Eliot has for his future home. Other than school, we went around and saw the projects the community and I have been working on. General Kianga came with his wife for a night and they held a small dinner for us and about a dozen neighbors. The next day there was a bigger community celebration that saw the trip's second slaughtering of a goat. This party also probably made me feel as appreciated as I ever have. The community groups did give a few "real" gifts like carvings (normal sized, for better or worse) and some traditional garb for my mom, but then a bunch of old ladies who own next to nothing and don't speak a word of English came and gave bag after bag of fruit from their farms. This seemed to be far more genuine than a lot of the bigger more formal tokens of appreciation I''ve seen or received in Kenya. The stay in Mbumbuni concluded with the church I go to having a send off service, also borderline over the top, for us.
From Mbumbuni we went on a safari in the Masai Mara. We got there just in time for the beginning of the great wildebeest migration, which is when millions of grazing animals (mostly wildebeests, obviously, but also tons of zebras and gazelles) leave the savannas of Kenya for the Serengeti in Tanzania. Unfortunately we did not get to see the epic climax of thousands of animals surging across a crocodile infested river, but we did see a few lions laying down trying to catch their breath before eating the prey they just caught. On top of that there was a pretty terrifying up close and personal encounter with a family of elephants. This is also where I had my 26th birthday. I can't say that I ever expected to spend a birthday on an African campsite with Czech women from the Humanist Movement and a few men wearing red dresses (more or less) and holes the size of golf balls in both ear lobes. Just so there's no confusion the latter isn't referring to myself and Eliot, the camp is run by a Westernized Masai man who employs traditional Masai warriors for guards (and for the sake of authenticity).
The last day and a half was spent in Nairobi, preparing to get back to our various realities. Again, it was a great trip for me, and from what I saw and heard I think the fam is going to concur when they have a chance to formally respond. That's most of the generalities, more specifics to come!
Before I go, and this will get its due attention soon enough, I need to announce that the books for the Nduluku library are on their way! Mr. Ade Otenaike, the President of Wings of the Dawn, agreed to send the books out before all the money was raised in order to get this thing up and going sooner rather than later. I and the students and staff of Nduluku are GREATLY appreciative of everyone who donated, and to Wings of the Dawn for everything they've provided and done, as well as their shared sense of urgency. But I was hesitant to make any announcement for a reason! My work in sales, and the influence of some good bosses, taught me to have the discipline to not count any chickens before they've hatched. There is still a lot of work that needs to be done before there are real fruits from everyone's labor. I need to do a lot on the ground here and I think there might be a fundraiser or two in the works to get the remaining money and to help ensure the library is furnished properly. Regardless, thanks to everyone for helping get to this point:) Soon updates about the library will be posted on the Wings of the Dawn Facebook page - linked here - which I encourage everyone to join so that you can follow easily.
Monday, July 13, 2009
Random Things
In just a few short days the moms and Eliot (again, middle brother) will be arriving in Kenya. I think it's going to be a heck of an experience for them, and a great time for me. Also it should mean this blog will be flush with pictures in about 3-4 weeks. Until then, here are some interesting things about my life I don't think I've yet shared.
- I wash my clothes by hand. This involves a basin, a bar of soap, 20 liters of water and elbow grease. Fortunately for me dirty clothes are socially acceptable in the country side.
- The most common news network here is Al Jazeera. East Africa gets their international programming, meaning it's mostly staffed by Europeans. I don't watch it regularly, but I've been generally impressed. Definitely not a hint of Islamic extremism in their international arm.
- My tribal name is Mwethia, which means shepherd. When I told the Chief that my last name meant shepherd in German he immediately christened me with Mwethia. Now as I walk past little kids they repeat "Alex Mwethia! Alex Mwethia!" until I go over to them and shake their hands or wave to them six or so separate times. The little ones here can be quite uplifting.
- I'm not sure what you picture when I talk about an African Chief, but it's probably wrong. Chiefs are like Mayors. My Chief wears a suit to work everyday, is well educated and is one of the friendlier people around.
- Occasionally I cook myself vegetable curry and rice. I'd say the recipe has slowly improved to "good." Most of the time, OK the vast majority of the time, I eat little other than bread, butter, eggs, peanuts/peanut butter, fruit and a Kenyan dish called githeri, which is just beans and corn. Oh what I wouldn't do for two slices of pepperoni from Famous Ray's or a steak and cheese from Mario's.
Next post should be an interesting one. There are all types of good stuff planned for the fam's visit. Come back in about a month to get details!
- I wash my clothes by hand. This involves a basin, a bar of soap, 20 liters of water and elbow grease. Fortunately for me dirty clothes are socially acceptable in the country side.
- The most common news network here is Al Jazeera. East Africa gets their international programming, meaning it's mostly staffed by Europeans. I don't watch it regularly, but I've been generally impressed. Definitely not a hint of Islamic extremism in their international arm.
- My tribal name is Mwethia, which means shepherd. When I told the Chief that my last name meant shepherd in German he immediately christened me with Mwethia. Now as I walk past little kids they repeat "Alex Mwethia! Alex Mwethia!" until I go over to them and shake their hands or wave to them six or so separate times. The little ones here can be quite uplifting.
- I'm not sure what you picture when I talk about an African Chief, but it's probably wrong. Chiefs are like Mayors. My Chief wears a suit to work everyday, is well educated and is one of the friendlier people around.
- Occasionally I cook myself vegetable curry and rice. I'd say the recipe has slowly improved to "good." Most of the time, OK the vast majority of the time, I eat little other than bread, butter, eggs, peanuts/peanut butter, fruit and a Kenyan dish called githeri, which is just beans and corn. Oh what I wouldn't do for two slices of pepperoni from Famous Ray's or a steak and cheese from Mario's.
Next post should be an interesting one. There are all types of good stuff planned for the fam's visit. Come back in about a month to get details!
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