The long rains have finally come to Kenya. This is good news if you are a farmer as this is the time to plant; and these rains are already a month late. This is not such a good thing if you live anywhere in Ngong! There is very little pavement here and no sidewalks at all! The slum and the school are at a low spot in Ngong......so needless to say it is like drainage pool where all water flows down the formerly dusty road (now mud slide) and into the slum. There is sort of this little berm built around the slum but the rains come down from the skies like water being poured from a bucket, so this just serves to hold the water in place. The walk from one class to the other is a river of mud and garbage. There are some big rocks placed along this pathway and they would be useful as stepping stones if it weren't for the fact that they are all pointed sides up and are covered in sticky red mud; making them more dangerous to walk on then the muddy path itself.
The baby class, as it is called, was dry for the first few days but then the mother of all rains happened. The man who sold us the water tank, Testimony (yes that is really is name!) of Testimony Hardware, said he had never seen such a rain and he was born and raised here. This rain was so strong that it washed garbage and debris to these low lying spots.......a dead donkey lies in the field that we walk through to Grace's house. Now it is a slough of red mud and garbage. Needless to say the baby class was flooded by this rain and like the field all the sewage has ended up here. Yet much to the dismay of myself and my partner we found the kids clomping around in this mess, their shoes (if they have them) heavy, caked with clumps of mud. Two young girls were kneeling in the muck as they copied their lessons from the board. I am having a hard time understanding why they let the kids be taught in this class as the older kids have a paved room which could serve the smaller ones as well during this rainy time. Rachel and I spoke at length with Moshila about this and he was very agreeable about our concerns even telling us that it is illegal to have children in such a place but his mother has the final say on all matters and she was not there on that day. He would not do anything unless his mother approves.....a very Kenyan cultural thing of respect. So we have set up an appointment to speak with her through Moshila. She is not an educated women, and is very stubborn if another Kenyan tells her she has to do something but apparently she has been known to comply with the muzungus' as she thinks we are very smart and know about such things......go figure!
I don't complain now about the rain that constantly knocks out the power, or the fact that my laundry won't dry, or that my mud caked shoes are soaked through..........somehow it just seems unimportant and even childish!
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Saturday, March 22, 2008
Being Taira...............Bringing Water
Hurahhhh!
The water tank has been installed and is now working at the orphanage! I know that Lucy, the director is happy but even more I think the kids are extactic! Thank you to all those who donated money to help make this project possible!
Water here is very expensive for the poor as most of it is hauled in small lots at exhorbatant rates. Now the orphange is hooked into the local water supply and will be able to store their weekly ration of water in the 4000L tank.
This means the kids don't have to go to the school to wash clothes or bathe. Now they can wash up before bed and leave for school in the morning clean. As well most of their cooking can be done at the orphanage instead of the school which had a myriad of problems associated with it. This also means everyone can make one less journey into the slum.....always a good thing!
There will still be a need of hauling water to the school by hand. This is done by the older boys, I often would see a pair of the older Sidai boys carrying a small black barrel between them, weighing about 30 lbs. The boys, thin and shoeless would walk as far as they could before stopping to rest for a brief moment, then continuing on. This isdone almost daily, carting water to a larger barrel at the school, where they had been doing a majority of their cooking and washing as this is where they also use to live.
The day after installing the tank I was fortunate to see many of the Sidai Orphans in church performing a poem. Lead by John, a keen 10 year old, who is all of 3 feet tall; he coached his "family" with the passion of a trained performer, to recite with him the crucification of Christ. I felt like a proud parent as the kids, without an adult to coach or supervise, organized themselves in front of the huge congregation and acted out their poem. It made it worth it to have to sit through 5 hours of Easter service in Swahili!!!
I am very glad to say that slowly but surely the kids of Sidai are moving onto a better place.
The water tank has been installed and is now working at the orphanage! I know that Lucy, the director is happy but even more I think the kids are extactic! Thank you to all those who donated money to help make this project possible!
Water here is very expensive for the poor as most of it is hauled in small lots at exhorbatant rates. Now the orphange is hooked into the local water supply and will be able to store their weekly ration of water in the 4000L tank.
This means the kids don't have to go to the school to wash clothes or bathe. Now they can wash up before bed and leave for school in the morning clean. As well most of their cooking can be done at the orphanage instead of the school which had a myriad of problems associated with it. This also means everyone can make one less journey into the slum.....always a good thing!
There will still be a need of hauling water to the school by hand. This is done by the older boys, I often would see a pair of the older Sidai boys carrying a small black barrel between them, weighing about 30 lbs. The boys, thin and shoeless would walk as far as they could before stopping to rest for a brief moment, then continuing on. This isdone almost daily, carting water to a larger barrel at the school, where they had been doing a majority of their cooking and washing as this is where they also use to live.
The day after installing the tank I was fortunate to see many of the Sidai Orphans in church performing a poem. Lead by John, a keen 10 year old, who is all of 3 feet tall; he coached his "family" with the passion of a trained performer, to recite with him the crucification of Christ. I felt like a proud parent as the kids, without an adult to coach or supervise, organized themselves in front of the huge congregation and acted out their poem. It made it worth it to have to sit through 5 hours of Easter service in Swahili!!!
I am very glad to say that slowly but surely the kids of Sidai are moving onto a better place.
Friday, March 21, 2008
Being Taira.............Acceptance
ADVISORY!!!!
This blog is not for the squimish!!!!!
After riding matatu's, walking through manure lined streets, drinking warm coke (yes....it's true), eating "chorma" (roasted goat) and leaping over open sewage....I thought I could handle anything! But last night I experienced something I can only say I have seen in those B-rated horror movies! The lingering effects of a cold had me coughing in the wee hours of the night. Grace had set out some cough syrup.....just in case! Wearing my fancy head lamp I made my way down the pitch black hall into the kitchen. Everything looked so normal....the syrup was on the microwave where Grace had left it. As I turned to get a spoon from the drying bucket my hand comming down innocently.....and just before I grabbed a spoon I saw them.....cockroaches! They were having a party in the kitchen, scurrying about. Everywhere I turned, my head lamp caught them as they rushed out of the light back into darkness. I suddenly felt like they were crawling over my neck and feet.....a trick of the mind I am sure, and I ran back to the safety of my room (Do not post anything about my room not being cockroach free). Now I know they are just bugs and I had seen a few already but there in the middle of the night clutching my bottle of cough syrup I felt the bizzare, macabre sense that maybe I was in a Stephen King novel. I took a swig of the cough syrup hopeing that it was chalk full of sleep inducing medication.
As I lay there listening.....waiting. I thought about all the things that I have shared with the kids at Sidai (sorry about any previous mis-spellings but this is the right one). The other day we brought in peanut butter and banana sandwhiches for them to try. Most of them had never heard of a sandwhich; although a few boys said they had seen a picture of such a thing. And we just expected them to eat it, not to squirm at the sight of this strange looking and smelling thing. The little ones held them in their hands, waiting.......There was much coaxing from the teacher in Swahili to take a bite. The braver ones put there teeth on the bread, watching the teacher for further instruction. Once the older kids started then one by one the younger ones began to try their sandwiches. And then the room began humming with the sound of mmmmmmm. They liked it! One little boy took one bite then put the rest in his ratty back pack. When the teacher asked him if he didn't like it he said he wanted to take it home to show his mother such a strange thing. The older kids loved them.....and I am not sure if it was because they really did like the taste or because it was something from the outside....and anything from the outside is considered worthy of having. They accepted our sandwhiches, like they accept most things here; things just are....even cockroaches.
I would like to add that though they ate our treat, when we told them we like to drink cold milk with our peanut butter sandwhiches there was a look of disbelief.....even horror at this idea.....much like my wide eyed terror in the kitchen!
I would like to add that though they ate our treat, when we told them we like to drink cold milk with our peanut butter sandwhiches there was a look of disbelief.....even horror at this idea.....much like my wide eyed terror in the kitchen!
Monday, March 17, 2008
Being Taira..........Being Helpful?????
There is a fine line between helping and enabling. I am still learning where that line is here in Kenya. In my first few days at the orphanage I noticed a baby sitting outside in a wash basin, barely able to hold it's head up. One of the cooks from Sadai told me the baby (named Patrick) was sick and needed an x-ray for suspected pneumonia. I met the women I thought was the mother of the baby but turned out to be the Grandmother (the mother is a young girl who comes and goes) and through Moshila I understood that she did not have the funds to take a matatu to the bigger hospital that has the x-ray machine let alone the funds to pay for the procedure. I offered to help as it was only thought to be around $12.00 Canadian.....but then x-ray fees had gone up and there was medicine and a blood test and more medicine. I didn't mind helping, the women even offered to kill me one of her chickens for doing so....I didn't want payment I was glad tobe able to help. One week later, when I sitting up at the hospital waiting for Kelsey, the Grandmother appeared sporting baby Patrick on her back. She had been at the hospital for Patrick's check-up. He needed more medicine and she came over and handed me the prescription and said you buy. I don't know why but I suddenly felt I was being taken advantage of. This might have something to do with the fact that Patrick's Grandmother runs a tea house, (aka bar, where she sells homemade brew) so I know that she has some money. It also may be because as of late many children and adults have accosted me with I am hungry.....give me candy.....or give me money. They throw the word "Sponsor" out at every occasion! Everyone and anyone wants you to be there sponsor....even the guy where I did a few photocopies asked if I would sponsor him so he could expand his shop and fill his shelves with paper; or the man who sold us corn for the orphanage, wanted to know if I could sponser him as a runner.
I spoke with Grace about this and she said this is becoming a very big problem in the hospital too. So many of the poor just sit and wait for someone to help them. When they come to the hospital, they don't want to pay the 10 shillings (25cents), which covers the cost of seeing a Doctor and most medicines (if available). Because Grace is involved in so many groups and knows so many people, they often use her name assuming they will not have to pay. It puts her in a really tough spot with her colleges as well as her bosses.
This sense that white people.....all white people are rich and therfore should be taken advantage of is all pervading. This especially true on when riding the matatu. There is one price for the locals and one for the white tourist. Even the other day when I was traveling with Grace's sister, Momma Ronnie, she said she would pay for me. The wrangler (guy who takes the money) didn't know she was paying for me the white woman so when we got off and he handed her her change he kept an extra 10 shillings. Or should I say he tried to keep and extra 10 shillings(about 25cents).......she nearly pulled him off the moving vehicle before he finally gave her the money. And when I told this to Grace she said she too had once paid for Kelsey and when the driver asked Kelsey for her money (doubled by the way) Grace told him that Kelsey was the extra fair she had already paid for. The wrangler then asked her "Momma why are you doing this.....I could get more money from the muzungu, she is rich!" To which Grace replied, "Do you know her? She is my daughter and she is not rich!" End of conversation.
Just so you know I have bought the medicine for baby Patrick and I am happy to say he is getting better but I do wonder when I am gone who will foot the bill then?
I spoke with Grace about this and she said this is becoming a very big problem in the hospital too. So many of the poor just sit and wait for someone to help them. When they come to the hospital, they don't want to pay the 10 shillings (25cents), which covers the cost of seeing a Doctor and most medicines (if available). Because Grace is involved in so many groups and knows so many people, they often use her name assuming they will not have to pay. It puts her in a really tough spot with her colleges as well as her bosses.
This sense that white people.....all white people are rich and therfore should be taken advantage of is all pervading. This especially true on when riding the matatu. There is one price for the locals and one for the white tourist. Even the other day when I was traveling with Grace's sister, Momma Ronnie, she said she would pay for me. The wrangler (guy who takes the money) didn't know she was paying for me the white woman so when we got off and he handed her her change he kept an extra 10 shillings. Or should I say he tried to keep and extra 10 shillings(about 25cents).......she nearly pulled him off the moving vehicle before he finally gave her the money. And when I told this to Grace she said she too had once paid for Kelsey and when the driver asked Kelsey for her money (doubled by the way) Grace told him that Kelsey was the extra fair she had already paid for. The wrangler then asked her "Momma why are you doing this.....I could get more money from the muzungu, she is rich!" To which Grace replied, "Do you know her? She is my daughter and she is not rich!" End of conversation.
Just so you know I have bought the medicine for baby Patrick and I am happy to say he is getting better but I do wonder when I am gone who will foot the bill then?
Thursday, March 13, 2008
Being Taira.........Being Beautiful In Ngong
Have you ever wondered how that lone shoe got left in the middle of the highway? Today as I walked to the orphanage I noticed something very peculiar on the roadways of Ngong. There were chunks of hair scattered along the ditches and roads and stuck to the dying underbrush. These were substantial chunks of hair......something I am sure you would notice had gone missing. I mean these were like a whole head of hair; there was braided hair and dyed hair, long straight locks and big round curls. There was nothing around to suggest an accident or foul play so I must assume the winds of Ngong, which had be particularly strong the day before, had something to do with all this scattered hair.
Hair is extremely important to the women of Kenya. There are lots of little shops that cater to the Kenyan womens hair needs.....which primarily is the addition of hair. Many women here sport long elaborate do's....with buns and braids, swept up into yet another hair piece; looking like they are heading down the read carpet at the Academy Awards. I, until recently, thought this was their own hair but then I noticed women sitting on porches and in doorways with a knee full of hair. The hair dresser adds in strands of this hair to already tightly woven plaits. This whole procedure is time consuming, around 4 hours is a general estimate. I have also noticed a lot of women sporting wigs.....I know this because they wear them more like a hat, with little tuft sticking out from the edges. I personally find the head scarf the classiest. Many of the women MP's, (elected officials to Kenyan Government) sport flashy, multi coloured, head scarves, that resemble a bird ready to take flight.
Dress is as varied as the tufts of hair on the road.....all business women and men dress very professionally, which includes hospital workers to shop keepers. Men sport suites and ties and women dress in business suites with pants or skirts. As for the average people of the street, well that depends on the income level or if the person is trying to get a job. But mostly you see women in dresses or below the knee skirts while guys wear jeans and T-shirts. The children, if they are in school are dressed in uniforms of the schools colours while the poorer kids can be found in a mish-mash of ripped pants, leggings, little girl party dresses and thread bear sweaters. I have seen the same white confirmation dress on two separate little girls from the orphanage.........I assume there must be a system so everyone gets a chance to where this coveted gown. And yes even though I find it warm, +25 to +30, Kenyans' love to wear a sweater....usually two. The most interesting thing is to see so many t-shirts from Canada! Many of the young men can be seen sporting a t-shirt with a slogan for the Calgary Flames or a High School from back home......how weird is that?
I apologize now to everyone as I am setting a very bad example of Canadian dress......unless you consider a Tilly hat, plain t-shirt and capri's as typical Canadian dress! Maybe I'll spruce things up a little and get a fancy gown from the Wednesday market.....Kelsey tells me there is a gut who sells old wedding and grad dresses real cheap!
Hair is extremely important to the women of Kenya. There are lots of little shops that cater to the Kenyan womens hair needs.....which primarily is the addition of hair. Many women here sport long elaborate do's....with buns and braids, swept up into yet another hair piece; looking like they are heading down the read carpet at the Academy Awards. I, until recently, thought this was their own hair but then I noticed women sitting on porches and in doorways with a knee full of hair. The hair dresser adds in strands of this hair to already tightly woven plaits. This whole procedure is time consuming, around 4 hours is a general estimate. I have also noticed a lot of women sporting wigs.....I know this because they wear them more like a hat, with little tuft sticking out from the edges. I personally find the head scarf the classiest. Many of the women MP's, (elected officials to Kenyan Government) sport flashy, multi coloured, head scarves, that resemble a bird ready to take flight.
Dress is as varied as the tufts of hair on the road.....all business women and men dress very professionally, which includes hospital workers to shop keepers. Men sport suites and ties and women dress in business suites with pants or skirts. As for the average people of the street, well that depends on the income level or if the person is trying to get a job. But mostly you see women in dresses or below the knee skirts while guys wear jeans and T-shirts. The children, if they are in school are dressed in uniforms of the schools colours while the poorer kids can be found in a mish-mash of ripped pants, leggings, little girl party dresses and thread bear sweaters. I have seen the same white confirmation dress on two separate little girls from the orphanage.........I assume there must be a system so everyone gets a chance to where this coveted gown. And yes even though I find it warm, +25 to +30, Kenyans' love to wear a sweater....usually two. The most interesting thing is to see so many t-shirts from Canada! Many of the young men can be seen sporting a t-shirt with a slogan for the Calgary Flames or a High School from back home......how weird is that?
I apologize now to everyone as I am setting a very bad example of Canadian dress......unless you consider a Tilly hat, plain t-shirt and capri's as typical Canadian dress! Maybe I'll spruce things up a little and get a fancy gown from the Wednesday market.....Kelsey tells me there is a gut who sells old wedding and grad dresses real cheap!
Monday, March 10, 2008
Being Taira.......At The Orphanage
Habari gaini (How Are You)!
Well I have had a week of working at the orphanage and I now feel a little bit more knowledgeable to speak about Sadai, the orphanage I am working at.
Sadai is located in the slums of Matharie, which is like a suburb in the town of Ngong. There is only one paved street in all of Ngong and it is the main highway - Ngong Highway. You walk into the orphanage off the main highway (think more like a small side street in Canadian city) about 2 regular city blocks and turn into what looks like a seedy back alley. You actually have to climb a small hill and walk above the shanties that line this walkway. The path is irregular dips and hills with rocks and garbage strewn about but it is only a short walk to the first of two buildings that belong to Sadai. This first building use to double as home and class room but a previous volunteer felt it was safer to have the children sleep away from the slum and has rented them a house on the edge of the slum area.
Another volunteer laid out money to have the dirt floor cemented which makes this building seem quite posh.....especially when you see the second class or baby class as it is know, which is just around the corner.
Here in baby class Angela (a wonderfully patient women) teaches sometimes as many as forty kids from ages 2 to 5. Although originally just for the Sadai orphans, the director Lucy, can not turn away many of those in the slum who are in need of a safe place. So realistically about 26 kids are real "Sadai kids" (wards of Sadai) while the others come from the slum. Some are dropped off by their parents so they can go look for work....or go to work (if they have a job). While other simply show up because their parents are too drunk to feed them and they know they will be given some food here. And still other come to escape beatings and other abuse. The room is about the size of a single car garage with an uneven dirt floor. (I mention this because I am alway stumbling in there). Simple wooden desks that sit 3 to 4 children line the walls (the walls are a mix of tin and found wood, the roof is tin). There are only two windows and a door, so the lighting is really poor but I now think it is perfect.; as I can't really see what is on the floor which is probably best. The only toilet (an outhouse) is located right beside the class and as the day heats up so does the smell.....I am sure that the Universe finds this very amusing. We have been cautioned not to loiter outside unless Moshela - Lucy's son is around, as it is a slum and there are not so nice people around.
The class room is as well behaved as a class can be for having only one teacher with so many young ones. Most of them are sick with runny noses and coughs so we plan on instituting a hand washing regime and a general check up with the volunteer nurses.
At first many of the children were very shy and some even frightened by our being there. Moshela told us a story of one little girl who fell to the floor screaming when she saw her first white person, she just kept repeating....."it's not human" which made me laugh but I am sure the little girl didn't find it funny!
We (the other volunteer Rachel) started out by spending the mornings working with Angela in baby class....trying to keep the peace, checking the work in their books (the little ones just colour), and wiping noses. As the days have progressed I have begun to read to them with the Angela translating into Swahili; we have done colouring and I even taught them the Hokey Pokey.....a big hit! And my Dad says I have no rhythm! Most of the pencils I have brought are already half their size....they write a lot but they also chew alot! The very next day after handing out a bunch of newly sharpened pencils they erasers were history! I have also been giving the baby class a vitamin every day. I hope that with the supply I brought that I can at least make them last till I leave.....as they really like them.
I have also ventured into class one, which has the cemented floor and children who are preparing to head to real school as soon as they qualify. Some of these kids are behind for many reasons but as soon as they catch up and can afford the cost of a uniform (about $12 each) they will go to public school. There are about 15 kids in this class and they are quite keen to learn anything new. I have shared some pictures about Canada and my family and even the money! They have wondered if we have Zebra and Elephants but were most shocked to hear that our rabbits change from brown to white in the winter. They loved the pictures of my Mom and Dad's snow covered farm and were quite impressed to see photo's of them as many of these children don't have parents let alone grandparents. It was funny to see what made them laugh.....like the photos of pigs or all the different breeds of dogs. They actually gasped when they saw what our cows looked like! If you ever see a Kenyan cow you will see why.
There are some older kids who do go to public school and are part of the Sadai group. They are feeling very cheated that they have not been able to see much of us as they are in school so early and don't get back to the slum till 5, so I plan to go to the field where they play one day to spend more time with them. Three of the boys did stop by with to show off the uniforms and thank all of you who made it possible for them to continue their education! I also wanted to pass along a very heartfelt Thank You from Lucy as I was able to buy food as well with donated monies....until then they had been eating only rice. Now they have beans, corn (maize), cooking fat, sugar, and two kinds of flour!
I have learned a lot about Kenyan style, from teaching (all repetition), to poverty (know one here, even the children, are afraid to ask for a handout), to water safety (there is none....muzungu's don't drink the water!!!!). And yet I know so little........everyday is a whole new adventure!
Well I have had a week of working at the orphanage and I now feel a little bit more knowledgeable to speak about Sadai, the orphanage I am working at.
Sadai is located in the slums of Matharie, which is like a suburb in the town of Ngong. There is only one paved street in all of Ngong and it is the main highway - Ngong Highway. You walk into the orphanage off the main highway (think more like a small side street in Canadian city) about 2 regular city blocks and turn into what looks like a seedy back alley. You actually have to climb a small hill and walk above the shanties that line this walkway. The path is irregular dips and hills with rocks and garbage strewn about but it is only a short walk to the first of two buildings that belong to Sadai. This first building use to double as home and class room but a previous volunteer felt it was safer to have the children sleep away from the slum and has rented them a house on the edge of the slum area.
Another volunteer laid out money to have the dirt floor cemented which makes this building seem quite posh.....especially when you see the second class or baby class as it is know, which is just around the corner.
Here in baby class Angela (a wonderfully patient women) teaches sometimes as many as forty kids from ages 2 to 5. Although originally just for the Sadai orphans, the director Lucy, can not turn away many of those in the slum who are in need of a safe place. So realistically about 26 kids are real "Sadai kids" (wards of Sadai) while the others come from the slum. Some are dropped off by their parents so they can go look for work....or go to work (if they have a job). While other simply show up because their parents are too drunk to feed them and they know they will be given some food here. And still other come to escape beatings and other abuse. The room is about the size of a single car garage with an uneven dirt floor. (I mention this because I am alway stumbling in there). Simple wooden desks that sit 3 to 4 children line the walls (the walls are a mix of tin and found wood, the roof is tin). There are only two windows and a door, so the lighting is really poor but I now think it is perfect.; as I can't really see what is on the floor which is probably best. The only toilet (an outhouse) is located right beside the class and as the day heats up so does the smell.....I am sure that the Universe finds this very amusing. We have been cautioned not to loiter outside unless Moshela - Lucy's son is around, as it is a slum and there are not so nice people around.
The class room is as well behaved as a class can be for having only one teacher with so many young ones. Most of them are sick with runny noses and coughs so we plan on instituting a hand washing regime and a general check up with the volunteer nurses.
At first many of the children were very shy and some even frightened by our being there. Moshela told us a story of one little girl who fell to the floor screaming when she saw her first white person, she just kept repeating....."it's not human" which made me laugh but I am sure the little girl didn't find it funny!
We (the other volunteer Rachel) started out by spending the mornings working with Angela in baby class....trying to keep the peace, checking the work in their books (the little ones just colour), and wiping noses. As the days have progressed I have begun to read to them with the Angela translating into Swahili; we have done colouring and I even taught them the Hokey Pokey.....a big hit! And my Dad says I have no rhythm! Most of the pencils I have brought are already half their size....they write a lot but they also chew alot! The very next day after handing out a bunch of newly sharpened pencils they erasers were history! I have also been giving the baby class a vitamin every day. I hope that with the supply I brought that I can at least make them last till I leave.....as they really like them.
I have also ventured into class one, which has the cemented floor and children who are preparing to head to real school as soon as they qualify. Some of these kids are behind for many reasons but as soon as they catch up and can afford the cost of a uniform (about $12 each) they will go to public school. There are about 15 kids in this class and they are quite keen to learn anything new. I have shared some pictures about Canada and my family and even the money! They have wondered if we have Zebra and Elephants but were most shocked to hear that our rabbits change from brown to white in the winter. They loved the pictures of my Mom and Dad's snow covered farm and were quite impressed to see photo's of them as many of these children don't have parents let alone grandparents. It was funny to see what made them laugh.....like the photos of pigs or all the different breeds of dogs. They actually gasped when they saw what our cows looked like! If you ever see a Kenyan cow you will see why.
There are some older kids who do go to public school and are part of the Sadai group. They are feeling very cheated that they have not been able to see much of us as they are in school so early and don't get back to the slum till 5, so I plan to go to the field where they play one day to spend more time with them. Three of the boys did stop by with to show off the uniforms and thank all of you who made it possible for them to continue their education! I also wanted to pass along a very heartfelt Thank You from Lucy as I was able to buy food as well with donated monies....until then they had been eating only rice. Now they have beans, corn (maize), cooking fat, sugar, and two kinds of flour!
I have learned a lot about Kenyan style, from teaching (all repetition), to poverty (know one here, even the children, are afraid to ask for a handout), to water safety (there is none....muzungu's don't drink the water!!!!). And yet I know so little........everyday is a whole new adventure!
Friday, March 7, 2008
Being Taira In Kenya
Jumbo to everyone! Thank you for patiently waiting for this installment of my blog.
Life here the first few days had us secluded away with little trips to western like stores....I think to keep us from major culture shock. And it worked! However Kelsey thought better of that and promptly whisked me into nothing short of chaos. My first experince of a Matatu (small van crammed with people) was exhilerating and not for the faint of heart. Thank the sweet heavens that it was fairly short and the reward was a little store filled with familiar items....cell phones and cereal. I obviously had given her reason to believe I was ready for more so she volunteered to take myself and two other volunteers to Ngong, the town where I would be based. This Matatu ride was way past anything I had experienced in the air or on land. Swevering around pot holes, other Matatus', goats, people, and large busses and cars we flew down a narrow road that often became three lanes instead of it's intended two. Armed with my sea bands(for car sickness) gravol and bubble gum (my sure fire remedie for nausea) I felt I had it all under control. And when we finally pulled into Ngong I though I had survived the worst. I was not entirely surprised by the look of the place but the smell did feel overpowering after my dizzying ride. But we pressed on and found the orphange that I and one of the other volunteers would be working at. We had a short impromtu visit with Lucy the director....and I say short as she speaks very little English. But we did see the two school rooms which until recently were also home for about 26 kids. (I will do a piece on the orphanage later). After our visit we headed back on a Matatu....this time feeling a little more prepared for the journey!
I have over the last week had a mix of emotions as each new experience surprises me. It is different to be stared at and when I say stared at I mean open mouth turning heads gawking. Combined with whistleing, and shouting. There is even some physical grabbing at the Matatu stands over potential customers. The smell of course has taken a bit of getting use to, as smell is my super power, I have had to tough it out with rotting garbage, burning garbage, latrines and general sewage that wafts from steaming grates thoughout the town. To top it off the amount of garbage strewn everywhere is beyond anything I have ever experienced except at the dump. Add to that goat dung and dusty unpaved roads, wind, and heat and you have the experience of Ngong! Having said all that, I am having fun, honestly. It's been great to travel around with Kelsey and learn from her; and nothing is funnier than seeing a a white women trying to pry her rear out of the back of a Matatu while trying to appear unscathed by the near death experience!
Thanks again to everyone! Miss you all and think about you every day!
Taira
Life here the first few days had us secluded away with little trips to western like stores....I think to keep us from major culture shock. And it worked! However Kelsey thought better of that and promptly whisked me into nothing short of chaos. My first experince of a Matatu (small van crammed with people) was exhilerating and not for the faint of heart. Thank the sweet heavens that it was fairly short and the reward was a little store filled with familiar items....cell phones and cereal. I obviously had given her reason to believe I was ready for more so she volunteered to take myself and two other volunteers to Ngong, the town where I would be based. This Matatu ride was way past anything I had experienced in the air or on land. Swevering around pot holes, other Matatus', goats, people, and large busses and cars we flew down a narrow road that often became three lanes instead of it's intended two. Armed with my sea bands(for car sickness) gravol and bubble gum (my sure fire remedie for nausea) I felt I had it all under control. And when we finally pulled into Ngong I though I had survived the worst. I was not entirely surprised by the look of the place but the smell did feel overpowering after my dizzying ride. But we pressed on and found the orphange that I and one of the other volunteers would be working at. We had a short impromtu visit with Lucy the director....and I say short as she speaks very little English. But we did see the two school rooms which until recently were also home for about 26 kids. (I will do a piece on the orphanage later). After our visit we headed back on a Matatu....this time feeling a little more prepared for the journey!
I have over the last week had a mix of emotions as each new experience surprises me. It is different to be stared at and when I say stared at I mean open mouth turning heads gawking. Combined with whistleing, and shouting. There is even some physical grabbing at the Matatu stands over potential customers. The smell of course has taken a bit of getting use to, as smell is my super power, I have had to tough it out with rotting garbage, burning garbage, latrines and general sewage that wafts from steaming grates thoughout the town. To top it off the amount of garbage strewn everywhere is beyond anything I have ever experienced except at the dump. Add to that goat dung and dusty unpaved roads, wind, and heat and you have the experience of Ngong! Having said all that, I am having fun, honestly. It's been great to travel around with Kelsey and learn from her; and nothing is funnier than seeing a a white women trying to pry her rear out of the back of a Matatu while trying to appear unscathed by the near death experience!
Thanks again to everyone! Miss you all and think about you every day!
Taira
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