Its 630 pm. It took me 25" to get this far. so b;log i will with no hope this will get posted.
I started my run late this morning. it was hot as usual. I took a random turn off the main drag about 15" into the run and winding down a muddy track, I mean road, I came out into the open overlooking an amazing field of salal like bushes. There wasnt tooo many people around so I kept running until I found forest(!) then chose a muddy track in. It had rained last nite (as usual). Damn I forgot bug juice and sunscreen (as usual). Soon I was going at a good clip, nice and flat. The trails here are not many but there are no people or bikes or cars to dodge. Just as I was thinking that I had found a good trail I popped out and I was on the other side of the 20 acre field. I quickly came across a worker who told me it was tea. He looked in shock to see a shirtless mizungo all of a sudden.
I saw some more fields to cross but the sun was blazing and the dirt was sticking about an inch thick to the bottom of my runners. I checked my watch, I had been gone awhile and had no water so I headed back. Once on the main street the usual whistles and calls from the fans of running. as I out-ran the bikers and matatus (all slowing for huge potholes) I could see the squeezed-in passengers wall to wall laughing and smiles. One catcall that stood out the most was 'are you very late sir? are you very late?' (imagine british south african accent). Now I was smiling along with my entertained throngs.
As I turned down the dirt road that headed for home I heard loitering men yelling 'power finish, power finish'. I guess they are getting used to my routine, they know Iam at the end of my run. I take a sharp left onto a field which goes down into a lush field that is being hand dug (about 10 acres, I have a video of this part of the run because our house is on the opposite side of the valley). Today was different. A trench was being dug. A man stood, with a 'shovel' every 20 yards. Over a hundred men. This was going to be a long trench. Later when i got home i could see the line of men from the top of the valley to the bottom. Serious project.
The field was being ploughed by a guy being pulled by two ox-like bovines (the 1800's all over again).
I picked my way over the rough terrain, crossed a stream where men were bathing, kids collecting water and women doing laundry, all in the same spot, and headed back up the other side to home. As with every run my legs are coated in dirt. It feels awesome to be hot and sweaty in January after a good run (im tired after only one hour- I hope thats the 4500' elevation and not lameness).
I have a melon and many banans for brunch- yum.
My desks are being built nicely. I pass the woodshop every day and stop in every 3rd day. I see lots of hands on deck: planing, staining, cutting and sanding- not a power tool in sight. I hope toi see kids in the first batch this Monday now that the teachers strike is over (kids start back on Monday).
I see its 1 degree in courtenay- sooo nice to be missing that.
Well its 7pm here, will be dark in 2 minutes (beauty sunset)and I have a pocket full of cash so I better get home. Tanya's making a stir-fry with rice. Plus I have an avacado waiting for me (only 5 cents each). I sure hope this posts cuz it took a looong time to type out.
Saturday, January 31, 2009
On the way to town
I've been hibernating a bit today. It's nice to have a break from
being constantly over stimulated. Cody found the sweet spot on the
shower, so I am feeling refreshed after my first 3 minute shower where
I was neither scalded nor freezing. We all have been relaxing in our
yard this morning, as we would do on any summer Saturday in Courtenay;
Terry reading in the shade and Cody and I playing Yatzee and cards on
a blanket in the sun. Some things I notice which remind me that I'm
far from home are:
• Our favourite caretaker carefully sweeping our patio with a branch
or cutting our grass with a machete
• The five or more little lizards you can see at any given time
wiggling their way up the walls (inside or outside) of our house
• The constant tweeting, whistling and squawking of birds, large and small
• Overlooking the hillside watching men, women and children hand
plowing their fields
• The iron rails over all of our windows and surrounding our patio
• The huge tank where our water for the house is stored
• The tin shack serving as a cover for our guards at the front of our house
• The barbed wire fence around our property
Soon I will walk out the gates of Kefinco (the compound or subdivision
where our house is) any chance of pretending I am home will vanish.
It's o.k. though. I expect that paved roads, street lights, cars, and
pristine buildings, sidewalks and the absence of cows, goats, chickens
and pigs in the streets will seem strange to me when I get home.
I've been reflecting on the people we are meeting. After the Rotaract
meeting on Wednesday night, we had a chance to talk with a few of the
members after the meeting. The theme of this years Rotaract group is
"Make Dreams Real." I spoke briefly to the group about Life Coaching
and working with my clients on achieving goals, balance in their life
and the importance of self care to the greater good of the community.
One young woman asked me after the meeting how she could get a job
like this in Canada. She is studying Education and Social Work in
University. I had no answers for her and felt sad and not surprised
that the first thought is how to get out.
On the walk home, one young man, Martin, was very excited about
coaching and leadership. He asked for my website and I told him that
I do have a website, but I am just one person, not a big organization.
Always in need of a little coaching myself, he excitedly reminded me
that you never know what an impact you are making. He told me of a
time that he visited a struggling family and offered some counselling
to a young boy. He was not trained in counselling and felt he had no
great answers. When he saw this boy some time later, the boy thanked
him and told him that that day had changed his life. Martin still
doesn't know what he said or did that made the difference, but knows
he helped.
We had another discussion about leadership in Kenya. I told them that
I had read that there was a problem of bright Kenyans being educated
here and then leaving to the US or Europe. Martin agreed that this
was a problem and that Kenya needs leadership, here on the ground.
The other young man walking with us planned on going to the US to gain
experience and maybe further education and then return. This started
a rather heated debate between the two, Martin saying that he wouldn't
come back and if he did that the experience he gained there would be
irrelevant. I won't pretend to have an understanding of what is
needed here or best for these young men or the community, but it was
exciting to be in the middle of the debate and it is clear that this
Rotaract club is full of potential. I'm looking forward to meeting
with them again.
Oh, last night was movie and pizza night at Shey Wey. Marie, one of
the Canadian volunteers in Kakamega, taught the chef how to make
pizza. Last week there was no pizza because they forgot to turn the
oven on, but last night was yummy – mushroom and cheese After many
technical difficulties, we got the movie, Michael Clayton, going on
the small tv with lousy sound. Soon the sound was being drowned out
by another crazy thunder/lightening/rain storm and then was all
together gone with the power outage. After about 20 minutes, the rain
subsided and we made a run for it home to Kefinco. The three of us
walked home (it's only a block or so) in the dark. Cody said I looked
like a nerd with my headlamp, but it served it's purpose in providing
me with some sense of security. Terry has been on our street a few
times at night and has seen families, teens, men and women… nothing
untoward.
Tomorrow we are going with Matano to visit some of the benefiting
families of the KASFOOC Self Help Group. O.K., off we go to town for
our market and cyber cafe routine. Who knows what will happen along
the way.
On the way to town, we passed:
• two young boys leading their three native cows down our street
• many women and children carrying baskets and bundles off all shapes
and sizes on their heads
• the lost boys with plastic bottles of glue hanging in their mouths
• no less than thirty boys of all ages playing football (soccer), many
with no shoes on; shirts against skins
• dozens of overloaded matatus
• the sounds of Saturday market day – everyday is market day, but
Saturdays and Wednesdays are particularly bussling
• and so much more…
being constantly over stimulated. Cody found the sweet spot on the
shower, so I am feeling refreshed after my first 3 minute shower where
I was neither scalded nor freezing. We all have been relaxing in our
yard this morning, as we would do on any summer Saturday in Courtenay;
Terry reading in the shade and Cody and I playing Yatzee and cards on
a blanket in the sun. Some things I notice which remind me that I'm
far from home are:
• Our favourite caretaker carefully sweeping our patio with a branch
or cutting our grass with a machete
• The five or more little lizards you can see at any given time
wiggling their way up the walls (inside or outside) of our house
• The constant tweeting, whistling and squawking of birds, large and small
• Overlooking the hillside watching men, women and children hand
plowing their fields
• The iron rails over all of our windows and surrounding our patio
• The huge tank where our water for the house is stored
• The tin shack serving as a cover for our guards at the front of our house
• The barbed wire fence around our property
Soon I will walk out the gates of Kefinco (the compound or subdivision
where our house is) any chance of pretending I am home will vanish.
It's o.k. though. I expect that paved roads, street lights, cars, and
pristine buildings, sidewalks and the absence of cows, goats, chickens
and pigs in the streets will seem strange to me when I get home.
I've been reflecting on the people we are meeting. After the Rotaract
meeting on Wednesday night, we had a chance to talk with a few of the
members after the meeting. The theme of this years Rotaract group is
"Make Dreams Real." I spoke briefly to the group about Life Coaching
and working with my clients on achieving goals, balance in their life
and the importance of self care to the greater good of the community.
One young woman asked me after the meeting how she could get a job
like this in Canada. She is studying Education and Social Work in
University. I had no answers for her and felt sad and not surprised
that the first thought is how to get out.
On the walk home, one young man, Martin, was very excited about
coaching and leadership. He asked for my website and I told him that
I do have a website, but I am just one person, not a big organization.
Always in need of a little coaching myself, he excitedly reminded me
that you never know what an impact you are making. He told me of a
time that he visited a struggling family and offered some counselling
to a young boy. He was not trained in counselling and felt he had no
great answers. When he saw this boy some time later, the boy thanked
him and told him that that day had changed his life. Martin still
doesn't know what he said or did that made the difference, but knows
he helped.
We had another discussion about leadership in Kenya. I told them that
I had read that there was a problem of bright Kenyans being educated
here and then leaving to the US or Europe. Martin agreed that this
was a problem and that Kenya needs leadership, here on the ground.
The other young man walking with us planned on going to the US to gain
experience and maybe further education and then return. This started
a rather heated debate between the two, Martin saying that he wouldn't
come back and if he did that the experience he gained there would be
irrelevant. I won't pretend to have an understanding of what is
needed here or best for these young men or the community, but it was
exciting to be in the middle of the debate and it is clear that this
Rotaract club is full of potential. I'm looking forward to meeting
with them again.
Oh, last night was movie and pizza night at Shey Wey. Marie, one of
the Canadian volunteers in Kakamega, taught the chef how to make
pizza. Last week there was no pizza because they forgot to turn the
oven on, but last night was yummy – mushroom and cheese After many
technical difficulties, we got the movie, Michael Clayton, going on
the small tv with lousy sound. Soon the sound was being drowned out
by another crazy thunder/lightening/rain storm and then was all
together gone with the power outage. After about 20 minutes, the rain
subsided and we made a run for it home to Kefinco. The three of us
walked home (it's only a block or so) in the dark. Cody said I looked
like a nerd with my headlamp, but it served it's purpose in providing
me with some sense of security. Terry has been on our street a few
times at night and has seen families, teens, men and women… nothing
untoward.
Tomorrow we are going with Matano to visit some of the benefiting
families of the KASFOOC Self Help Group. O.K., off we go to town for
our market and cyber cafe routine. Who knows what will happen along
the way.
On the way to town, we passed:
• two young boys leading their three native cows down our street
• many women and children carrying baskets and bundles off all shapes
and sizes on their heads
• the lost boys with plastic bottles of glue hanging in their mouths
• no less than thirty boys of all ages playing football (soccer), many
with no shoes on; shirts against skins
• dozens of overloaded matatus
• the sounds of Saturday market day – everyday is market day, but
Saturdays and Wednesdays are particularly bussling
• and so much more…
Friday, January 30, 2009
Quieter Days
We woke up this morning with no plans for the day. Terry went for a run and I stayed behind to do some laundry. It feels odd to be doing mundane household chores away from home. I'm not feeling that inspired today. We are at the cyber cafe, not on my favourite computer, so my keyboard is sticky and there's no privacy. I'm feeling a bit whiney, perhaps I shouldn't be blogging... but we've got another 2 hours to kill because we locked our keys in the house today and the Director won't be back until 5:00pm. This is my first hint of a bad mood, not bad after two weeks.
We went for lunch today at the Snacks Stop, a Lonely Planet favourite. I chose only to have a drink today, Cody went for the ever reliable chips and fanta with simosas and Terry ordered spagetti. It had *** on the menu with a note to allow extra time for preparation. He confirmed with the waiter that the sauce had no meat in it. Everyone here is most agreeable. Lots of smiling and nodding, so we are never quite sure if we are being understood. Cody's chips arrived first. We've noticed that whatever is ready is what gets served. So if we are all out together, two of us could be finished before the other has been served. Terry's spaggetti followed. Plain noodles with coleslaw and fried spinachy stuff on the side. There was some talk about a sauce in a little medal dish, but when Terry said, "Sure, I'll try it," the waiter took it away. So a little chili sauce and tomato sauce (Kenyans substitute for ketchup) was used to try and dress it up a bit.
On the walk from lunch to the post office (posta), we passed be several little boys in the street along the way. I see them differently when they are not in their pack. I have driven through the east side of Vancouver countless times and never have a seen a little kid, homeless, begging or sleeping in the street. One of the Rotarians knows a woman who has a project for street children. I hope to meet her before we go.
Earlier today we stopped in at a friend's office (think tin shack). Matano works for KASFOOC, Kakamega Supporting Families of Orphaned Children Self Help Group. They have 13 members that support 10 families, all widows, 30 children in all. At the start of the project, they interviewed 700 families. The 10 were chosen with the following qualifications: 1) they must own land--not be tennants so they will stay in the area 2) no illicit behaviour; making 'moonshine' is a huge problem in this area as is having children run for cigarettes and other unspeakable favours 3) they must agree to keep their children in schools.
KASFOOC aims to address the issue of orphans and orphaned families by educating and supporting the families to become self sufficient. The focus for now is on planting bananas and local vegetables. Sunday we are going to visit some of the benifiting families.
More later... internet is being finicky as usual.
We went for lunch today at the Snacks Stop, a Lonely Planet favourite. I chose only to have a drink today, Cody went for the ever reliable chips and fanta with simosas and Terry ordered spagetti. It had *** on the menu with a note to allow extra time for preparation. He confirmed with the waiter that the sauce had no meat in it. Everyone here is most agreeable. Lots of smiling and nodding, so we are never quite sure if we are being understood. Cody's chips arrived first. We've noticed that whatever is ready is what gets served. So if we are all out together, two of us could be finished before the other has been served. Terry's spaggetti followed. Plain noodles with coleslaw and fried spinachy stuff on the side. There was some talk about a sauce in a little medal dish, but when Terry said, "Sure, I'll try it," the waiter took it away. So a little chili sauce and tomato sauce (Kenyans substitute for ketchup) was used to try and dress it up a bit.
On the walk from lunch to the post office (posta), we passed be several little boys in the street along the way. I see them differently when they are not in their pack. I have driven through the east side of Vancouver countless times and never have a seen a little kid, homeless, begging or sleeping in the street. One of the Rotarians knows a woman who has a project for street children. I hope to meet her before we go.
Earlier today we stopped in at a friend's office (think tin shack). Matano works for KASFOOC, Kakamega Supporting Families of Orphaned Children Self Help Group. They have 13 members that support 10 families, all widows, 30 children in all. At the start of the project, they interviewed 700 families. The 10 were chosen with the following qualifications: 1) they must own land--not be tennants so they will stay in the area 2) no illicit behaviour; making 'moonshine' is a huge problem in this area as is having children run for cigarettes and other unspeakable favours 3) they must agree to keep their children in schools.
KASFOOC aims to address the issue of orphans and orphaned families by educating and supporting the families to become self sufficient. The focus for now is on planting bananas and local vegetables. Sunday we are going to visit some of the benifiting families.
More later... internet is being finicky as usual.
Dining in Kakamega
There is always so much to write about and not always the time or the inclination. I’m not sure how much has been said so far about the food, but we have no fear of gaining weight here. Treating ourselves to a nice meal out in a restaurant just isn’t that much of a treat.
We have found a couple of favourites though – everyday we buy a few little packs of peanuts for 10 bob each. Usually if we buy four or five, the vendor will throw a little one in with a smile as a “discount”. They are fried dry with salt. I bought some raw from the market and tried to do it myself, but dry they just burnt and the salt wouldn’t stick to them. When I added a drop of oil, then they were just oily. So, we’ll stick to our guys on the street who clearly know what they are doing.
Our friend, Jeremiah who we will be going on safari with, owns the Tour Africa Cafe. So far he serves the coldest soda in town, and the best chipati w/ vegetables (fried kale, cabbage and onion). Terry feels most at home with a cup of chai as the locals enjoy it. Hot milk, always filled to the brim, a tea bag and two spoonfuls of sugar.
We’ve tried a couple of different restaurants. A couple of days ago we had most excellent service and the most disgusting food at the Stalleon Cafe. Cody saw something that looked like a simosa but was another local favourite (can’t remember the name of it). It turned out to be deep fried bread. Not sweet like a doughnut, just fried dough. Cold and not at all delicious. I tried their ugali with vegetables, and was served within minutes this brownish greenish slop posing as veggies and ugali which you can’t really screw up, but without something yummy to dip it in is tasteless. Ugali is basically mashed maize with a consistency not too dissimilar to mashed potatoes only a little stickier. Cody and Terry tried ordering something safe – chips. They too were served immediately – greasy and cold.
After our disappointing lunch, we were walking down a new street and smelled for the first time in Africa, fresh baked bread! Yummy. We passed two bread trucks and then saw a sign for a bakery. Everything in the window looked kind of familiar. Muffins (they were square shaped, not muffin shaped as we would expect, but they looked cake-like), huge cream horns, cookies, bread. Cody and Terry chose the cream horn and I went for a macaroon cookie. My cookie was… not like a macaroon in any way, but it wasn’t offensive. Terry and Cody bit into their dreamy looking cream horns with much anticipation, followed by much disappointment. I asked Cody what he thought and he said, “It’s not really what you expect.” The cream horns came to a sad demise in the ditch.
The fruit is good – pineapples, papayas, mangos, oranges (a little more sour than we are used to, but still yummy), and bananas. We love the little bananas the best. They are about the size of a man’s thumb and sweet and firm. We’ve also found good cucumbers, tomatoes, bitter green peppers that are good fried, eggplant and sweet carrots. I wash everything in a drop of bleach and boiled water and so far so good in the tummy department.
Cody is brave and will try anything… even the orange kool-aid we were served at the fish farm (he said it tastes like jello). He’s had goat and chicken. Terry did show him the butchery with zero refrigeration, flies and blood stained wooden stumps for cutting blocks. He’s still not dissuaded. Yesterday it was a bacon sandwich (fried bread shaped like a simosa with bacon, nothing else). He is missing ketchup as they have something quite gelatine like here called tomato sauce. Everything goes down o.k. with their only other condiment – chilli sauce.
We have found a couple of favourites though – everyday we buy a few little packs of peanuts for 10 bob each. Usually if we buy four or five, the vendor will throw a little one in with a smile as a “discount”. They are fried dry with salt. I bought some raw from the market and tried to do it myself, but dry they just burnt and the salt wouldn’t stick to them. When I added a drop of oil, then they were just oily. So, we’ll stick to our guys on the street who clearly know what they are doing.
Our friend, Jeremiah who we will be going on safari with, owns the Tour Africa Cafe. So far he serves the coldest soda in town, and the best chipati w/ vegetables (fried kale, cabbage and onion). Terry feels most at home with a cup of chai as the locals enjoy it. Hot milk, always filled to the brim, a tea bag and two spoonfuls of sugar.
We’ve tried a couple of different restaurants. A couple of days ago we had most excellent service and the most disgusting food at the Stalleon Cafe. Cody saw something that looked like a simosa but was another local favourite (can’t remember the name of it). It turned out to be deep fried bread. Not sweet like a doughnut, just fried dough. Cold and not at all delicious. I tried their ugali with vegetables, and was served within minutes this brownish greenish slop posing as veggies and ugali which you can’t really screw up, but without something yummy to dip it in is tasteless. Ugali is basically mashed maize with a consistency not too dissimilar to mashed potatoes only a little stickier. Cody and Terry tried ordering something safe – chips. They too were served immediately – greasy and cold.
After our disappointing lunch, we were walking down a new street and smelled for the first time in Africa, fresh baked bread! Yummy. We passed two bread trucks and then saw a sign for a bakery. Everything in the window looked kind of familiar. Muffins (they were square shaped, not muffin shaped as we would expect, but they looked cake-like), huge cream horns, cookies, bread. Cody and Terry chose the cream horn and I went for a macaroon cookie. My cookie was… not like a macaroon in any way, but it wasn’t offensive. Terry and Cody bit into their dreamy looking cream horns with much anticipation, followed by much disappointment. I asked Cody what he thought and he said, “It’s not really what you expect.” The cream horns came to a sad demise in the ditch.
The fruit is good – pineapples, papayas, mangos, oranges (a little more sour than we are used to, but still yummy), and bananas. We love the little bananas the best. They are about the size of a man’s thumb and sweet and firm. We’ve also found good cucumbers, tomatoes, bitter green peppers that are good fried, eggplant and sweet carrots. I wash everything in a drop of bleach and boiled water and so far so good in the tummy department.
Cody is brave and will try anything… even the orange kool-aid we were served at the fish farm (he said it tastes like jello). He’s had goat and chicken. Terry did show him the butchery with zero refrigeration, flies and blood stained wooden stumps for cutting blocks. He’s still not dissuaded. Yesterday it was a bacon sandwich (fried bread shaped like a simosa with bacon, nothing else). He is missing ketchup as they have something quite gelatine like here called tomato sauce. Everything goes down o.k. with their only other condiment – chilli sauce.
Cody Jan 28
Today, in the morning, I didn’t really do anything. Mom said she was going into town for some reason, but I was still really sleepy. So I stayed in for a bit. I knew mom wasn’t going to be back for a while, so I decided to go outside with a book and tan for a bit. It was kind of late in the morning so it was getting kind of uncomfortable in the blazing sun. So, I only stayed out there for like 20-25 minutes. After that I went back inside to read my book some more. It was only then that I realized I wasn’t really reading, I was just kind of looking at the words. I kept thinking about guitar and what songs I know how to play. Shortly after, Mom got back home and we went back to the friends of Kakamega orphanage. We were going to meet with Dorothy but we got there to late and she had to go back to her house. We met with Pastor Nelson, and talked about… something good, I don’t know. So he called Dorothy for us and she had sent a taxi over to pick us up and bring us to her house. On the way they had these huge speed bumps that we had to go on an angle just so we didn’t hit the bottom of the car. Most of the time we didn’t hit the speed bump right so we grinded the bottom of the car against the dirt. It took us nearly an hour just to go like 40km. We got there and were quickly greeted by Dorothy. We sat down and Mom started asking questions about the home-based programme and about the orphanage. Then Dorothy’s husband came in and started talking to Terry about his farm (by the way they had a farm) and a little about fish farms and how they brought in more money then just a regular farm. We talked for a bit (well I didn’t really talk at all) and then we went into another room to have tea. In Kenya, when you have tea, you don’t really have tea. You have like a whole feast of foods. We had tea, of course, sandwiches, bananas, some fried eggs, and we also had boiled bananas. You might be thinking that it was nasty, but it was actually pretty good. It tasted just like a baked potato but with no sour cream or butter on it. I realised that I’m actually starting to like tea, and not just herbal tea, like tea tea.
After we were finished, Dorothy’s husband gave us a mini tour of his place. He had a couple cows, some funky looking chickens, and some banana trees. That was the first time I have ever seen a banana tree and I was a little disappointed. I thought they would be big tall trees, but they were like a big plant. I guess they were like mini palm trees but u could easily rip one out of the ground. It’s hard to describe. So after we were finished the tour, we got in another taxi and he dropped us off at a university where we would be meeting with a group called Rotaract, which is just the university/college level of Rotary. It was pretty funny because Terry was trying to get some laughs in his speech but he barely got any and I said like 15 words and everybody was laughing. I guess I’m just a funny guy. After the meeting it was getting a bit dark outside, so before it got completely dark we wanted a picture of everybody. After the picture we started to walk home. A couple of the Rotaract members walked with us because it was dangerous at night time. I’m happy to say that we made it back safely and we got some drink before we got in. When we got back to our house, I just curled up in my bed after setting up my mosquito net and went to sleep.
After we were finished, Dorothy’s husband gave us a mini tour of his place. He had a couple cows, some funky looking chickens, and some banana trees. That was the first time I have ever seen a banana tree and I was a little disappointed. I thought they would be big tall trees, but they were like a big plant. I guess they were like mini palm trees but u could easily rip one out of the ground. It’s hard to describe. So after we were finished the tour, we got in another taxi and he dropped us off at a university where we would be meeting with a group called Rotaract, which is just the university/college level of Rotary. It was pretty funny because Terry was trying to get some laughs in his speech but he barely got any and I said like 15 words and everybody was laughing. I guess I’m just a funny guy. After the meeting it was getting a bit dark outside, so before it got completely dark we wanted a picture of everybody. After the picture we started to walk home. A couple of the Rotaract members walked with us because it was dangerous at night time. I’m happy to say that we made it back safely and we got some drink before we got in. When we got back to our house, I just curled up in my bed after setting up my mosquito net and went to sleep.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Visit in the country
Sitting at the cyber cafe again. These posts are shorter... maybe that's a good thing for you, I'm not sure. There's so much... Yesterday was a glorious run through busy streets, a quiet and cool forest, down quiet dirt roads and up, over and through freshly plowed (by hand) fields. Joined as always by cows, pigs, exotic birds, kids and even a nun -- smiling and calling out to her friends, "they are training me!" One of the Kenyans asked Terry, "Are you very late sir?... Why are you running." They find us quite amusing.
We had a chance to meet with Dorothy from the Care Centre yesterday at her home. She lives in a nice home in the country, about a 15 minute drive through quiet dirt roads. We sat and chatted about the suffering of Kenya. Especially the teachers strike which I have mentioned before. Again, teachers here make and average of 10,000Ksh per month, while MPs make 1.4 MILLION Ksh/month. I had heard the million figure before, but assumed it was per annum, not per month. She talked of the so called coalition government that was formed last year and the disappointment since. Seems the opposition are enjoying the good life now too and corruption is still rampant. Dorothy told us, "We don't mind being poor, we are used to it. We just want peace."
She told us once again how she built the Care Centre. The men thought she couldn't do it. But it is women that get things done here. One of the conditions for her funding through the Quaker church is that the centre be run by all women. African men have a bad reputation for squandering money. Dorothy was uncomfortable talking about this in front of her husband, but he was full of laughter and seemed very comfortable with it all. We took tea together, which is never just tea. Dorothy served us boiled bananas. Yup, boiled. They are a variety that is good boiled when green and eaten raw when ripe. They tasted just like a potato with butter, though they were just served plain after being boiled with salt. Very yummy. Just about everything served was from the farm; eggs, bananas (boiled and fresh), the milk for the chai was from their cows.
Ooops, gotta run. More later.
We had a chance to meet with Dorothy from the Care Centre yesterday at her home. She lives in a nice home in the country, about a 15 minute drive through quiet dirt roads. We sat and chatted about the suffering of Kenya. Especially the teachers strike which I have mentioned before. Again, teachers here make and average of 10,000Ksh per month, while MPs make 1.4 MILLION Ksh/month. I had heard the million figure before, but assumed it was per annum, not per month. She talked of the so called coalition government that was formed last year and the disappointment since. Seems the opposition are enjoying the good life now too and corruption is still rampant. Dorothy told us, "We don't mind being poor, we are used to it. We just want peace."
She told us once again how she built the Care Centre. The men thought she couldn't do it. But it is women that get things done here. One of the conditions for her funding through the Quaker church is that the centre be run by all women. African men have a bad reputation for squandering money. Dorothy was uncomfortable talking about this in front of her husband, but he was full of laughter and seemed very comfortable with it all. We took tea together, which is never just tea. Dorothy served us boiled bananas. Yup, boiled. They are a variety that is good boiled when green and eaten raw when ripe. They tasted just like a potato with butter, though they were just served plain after being boiled with salt. Very yummy. Just about everything served was from the farm; eggs, bananas (boiled and fresh), the milk for the chai was from their cows.
Ooops, gotta run. More later.
Cody in the Forest
Today I had to wake up pretty early, don't know what time it was but I could barely keep my eyes open I was so tired. So I got up, brushed my teeth, brush my hair, and packed up everything I needed for the night in the forest. We locked up the house and started walking down the road to the matatus. We asked some people if they were going to the forest and we quickly got on one, but we didn't actually leave for like 40 minutes. The ride was pretty bad but not as bad as all the other rides. We stopped at a sign that said 'Kakamega forest reserve'. It said it was 600m and that felt pretty accurate. The Lonely Planet book said 2km; don't know how they got that number. Any ways right when we got to the gate, I immediately saw monkeys jumping from tree to tree. It was pretty cool. So we bought our tickets, rented a banda and walked down the road, again, to the offices. I didn't see anymore monkeys on the way so I was a little disappointed. We got there and met up with Patrick, one of the forest guides. He talked a little bit about the prices, short walks and long hikes, and a little bit about the snakes, I think. Anyways after we paid, he told us that he wasn't going to guide us, instead we ended up with a girl wearing a dress and little slipper shoes. No binoculars, no hat, no hiking boots, no nothing. So we started on our first walk, the nature walk. The forest was so dense there was barely a trail to walk on. So as you probably imagine, we didn't see to many animals. Saw glimpses of monkeys, not many birds, but we did see snakes. We saw a bush viper, which is poisonous, and a forest cobra, 7 minutes to get to a hospital before you're finished. After our nature walked we went up to the view point. We had to climb up a hill that was pretty much straight up. We got there and the view was magnificent. You could see over the entire forest. Now, we started our journey to our next walk, the falls. We walked for a ways and ended up at the falls. Well it wasn't really a waterfall, which is what I was expecting, it was more like rapids. It was pretty nice there, got a good picture of some butterflies and saw a pretty cool bird. When we got back to our banda, I was dead tired, but I was also very thirsty, so we walked over to the Canteen and bought some water and a couple Sprites. After our drink we walked back to the banda, and just chilled. Mom did some journaling, Terry read his book, and I just listened to my music. I dozed off for like 40 minutes and then it started getting a little dark. We were going to go for a bit of a walk to see bats and flying squirrels, but then it started pouring down rain. It was a huge storm, there was lightning and thunder and it was raining a little sideways. So we stayed in instead. I talked to mom a bit before drifting off to sleep. The next morning, mom woke me up and said that she and Terry were going for a walk, to try and see the sunrise at the view point. I didn't really feel like going, so I just kept on sleeping. When she came back, she told me that she saw baboons right on the trail, so she didn't get to see the sunrise. But baboons are a pretty good substitute for a sunrise. She said that if we left right now we could maybe see them again. I went, but I didn't think we were going to see the baboons. I thought wrong. At first there was only one walking down the trail. Then there were two. Then there were like 10 walking down, little babies on the moms' backs, big buff baboons, and I guess children running around in the bushes. We only got to watch them for like 5 minutes but it was worth the entire trip just to see them. So when they went back into the bushes, we walked back to the banda and got all our stuff and headed out. On our walk back to the gate, we saw some red-tailed monkeys run across the path and climb into the trees; I thought it was pretty cool. We got a couple pictures of them and kept on walking. But then we saw more red-tailed monkeys jumping from tree to tree. So we watched them for a bit and got some more pictures. So when we got to the gate and were about to leave, we saw more monkeys. But these monkeys were black and white and the ends of their tails were white. I don't remember what they're called, but they looked really old. We saw them jumping around, got even more pictures, and started walking down the road to the matatus. But then we saw even more monkeys outside the forest, munching on some branches. So we stopped and got even more pictures. A little ways down the road, we saw some goats that got all tangled up and couldn't really get any food. So me and Terry untied them and they seemed pretty happy. So we got to the place where the matatu would pick us up and waited for one to come by. The first couple were all full or could only take one person so we waited some more. I thought this was going to take a while, so I got a Fanta while we waited. Then we got in the back of a truck, the kind where in movies you see like immigrants riding in. It actually wasn't bad at all. Well it was worse then driving in your own car but compared to a matatu it was great. We got back to Kakamega, but we got off in a different place then we were used to. So we had to find our way back to familiar turf. We were pretty hungry so we went to a 'restaurant' that was mentioned in the Lonely Planet book, so we thought it must be pretty good. It actually wasn't that bad. It was way better then the Stallion, where everything was cold and crunchy and nasty. Our food was actually fresh this time. After we left we went to the cyber café. I went on facebook, sent my dad an e-mail, then went on facebook some more. Mom did some blog stuff and Terry tried to do some banking, I think, but it was going really slow, so he only got in like 5 minutes of work done in an hour. Me and mom finished before Terry, so we went down to Jeremiahs place and had some chipati with some vegetables that reminded me of the taste of those kimchi noodle bowls. It was really good. Jeremiah started talking to us about the prices of stuff, but then he told us to finish our food before we talked business. We finished and Terry came down and had some chipati, and even after he was done, Jeremiah didn't come back. So we left and went back to our house. I finished my second book and was kind of sad because now I had nothing to read. So after I finished my book, I went to sleep.
Matutu to Musingu
OK, matatu rides are starting to lose their novelty. Imagine a small pick up, a really small pick up, then imagine 4 people crammed in the front and 15, yes 15, squeezed into a cab mounted on the back. Fine, now imagine that the road is full of potholes, more potholes than smooth parts, and this high-weighted human bomb is swerving to find the smoothest path. Every once and a while (like every 5 minutes) it pulls over to the side either to avoid an oncoming vehicle (that's looking for smooth spots on our side of the road) or to p/u and d/o people or a police check ( I'm not sure what they are checking for or why we make it through any checkpoint- I'm told it is just a bribe point- as there is not a rule we are not breaking). The edge of the road is 5" below the edge of the asphalt. It truly feels like the beginning of a roll-over each time, except for the impassive black faces of our fellow chicken and baby holding passengers.
This describes every trip so far. Every 5 minutes feels like an hour. Fortunately there are plenty of sights to see, and friendly faces, to distract from the spine pounding.
En route to Musingu High School (MSH) I chatted with Nora. She's an elder British ex pat who has a soft spot for brilliant boys who cannot afford the school fees to graduate from primary school (about $500.00 CDN per for full boarding school per year). I also finally found out why the Rotary High School in Kakemega has no Rotary support (Rotary doesn't build and this one is built on public land and operated like a private business- another thing Rotary doesn't do). It apparently will be renamed shortly. When Nora was a Rotarian (she left after blowing the whistle on Rotary high school shenanigans) she started a joint project between Strathcona Sunrise and Kakemega Rotary clubs to put 8 poor (extremely smart, they finished #1 in their primary school and must continue to place in the top 50 of their 250 boy class- they exceed this by quite some measure, beating out the rich boys) smart boys through the full 4 years of high school ($500x8x4= .$16000). The project is now just starting year 3 (Kenyan school year starts in January). Unfortunately Francis, a boy genius, was killed in a matatu accident last year (he stepped out of the way of one and was hit by another). He was a very nice boy. A replacement was easy to find. Emboso has been trying to get to secondary school for years, he tried selling the school hedge trees in the effort to pay for school fees. He kept repeating primary school to re write the test and kept placing number 1. He is now 20 and an excellent choice to replace Francis.
We met all 8 boys. They were very shy. I gave a rousing speech to blank faces as I described our club and how pleased and proud we were to support them. More blank faces as I presented each with a Club banner, Canada pin and fancy pen. We took pictures. Afterwards several came up to me and very quietly thanked me for letting them go to school. The desperation these boys have to be in school is palpable. In Canada we would be afraid to be putting so much pressure on them. Can you imagine telling a Canadian boy that he is out on the street if he doesn't score in the top 20% of his class each of his final 4 years.
We then toured the apparently empty school grounds of 1000 boys. On a Sunday, with no supervision, the classrooms were stuffed full of boys studying. The place was silent as a library. Except the drama hall- there, over 20 boys, no teacher, were rehearsing for a drama contest- singing marching etc. Cody was asked if Canadian boys study this hard sans supervision- he said they don't study this hard with supervision. MSH, we were told by our guide, tries to win everything, from rugby to Drama to academics- and succeeds. They are the current rugby champs. Out of 83 schools in the Western Province MSH placed #2 academically (Rotary High placed 73rd). For such a high rated school the grounds were run down as were the outhouses and school uniforms.
Nora told many heart breaking stories of the boys that get turned away, despite straight A's in primary school. She now runs a high Achievers program that, via the Unitarian Church, supports 25 other boys in the district. It is not odd for a boy to enter high school at the age of 20+ years, each time retaking the primary school finals to prove his worth (you have to be invited to high school, sort of like a draft pick), before he has the grades and the money to get into the first year. What's really heart breaking is when they ace first year, but cant afford the fees for second year and have to leave.
We ended the day, tired but satisfied that this project is an excellent one and our home club should be proud. Full Marks to Nora and her Courtenay contact Chip Ross.
So to sum up we have visited and learned of several projects:
The CEDAR foundation which puts about 250 girls per year through school
The Bukura Fish Farmers Organization
The Bukura Tailoring School
The Friends Care Centre (Orphanage)
Daisy School for the Handicapped
And a few more where we met the people that worked on stuff. Each of these people seemed to have taken several kids under their wing and put them through school. Susan, Alinda, Nora all have put several kids through school on their own dime and these kids are no longer kids, but adults who keep in touch.
Coming soon: Terry's solo run through the buggy jungle just as it is getting dark while monkeys crash (loudly) about in trees above and images of the Green Bush Viper and Forest Cobra that he saw 1 hour earlier, dance through his head… if anyone should get malaria or killed by wildlife in Africa its me - yet the matatu's scare me more.
Terry
This describes every trip so far. Every 5 minutes feels like an hour. Fortunately there are plenty of sights to see, and friendly faces, to distract from the spine pounding.
En route to Musingu High School (MSH) I chatted with Nora. She's an elder British ex pat who has a soft spot for brilliant boys who cannot afford the school fees to graduate from primary school (about $500.00 CDN per for full boarding school per year). I also finally found out why the Rotary High School in Kakemega has no Rotary support (Rotary doesn't build and this one is built on public land and operated like a private business- another thing Rotary doesn't do). It apparently will be renamed shortly. When Nora was a Rotarian (she left after blowing the whistle on Rotary high school shenanigans) she started a joint project between Strathcona Sunrise and Kakemega Rotary clubs to put 8 poor (extremely smart, they finished #1 in their primary school and must continue to place in the top 50 of their 250 boy class- they exceed this by quite some measure, beating out the rich boys) smart boys through the full 4 years of high school ($500x8x4= .$16000). The project is now just starting year 3 (Kenyan school year starts in January). Unfortunately Francis, a boy genius, was killed in a matatu accident last year (he stepped out of the way of one and was hit by another). He was a very nice boy. A replacement was easy to find. Emboso has been trying to get to secondary school for years, he tried selling the school hedge trees in the effort to pay for school fees. He kept repeating primary school to re write the test and kept placing number 1. He is now 20 and an excellent choice to replace Francis.
We met all 8 boys. They were very shy. I gave a rousing speech to blank faces as I described our club and how pleased and proud we were to support them. More blank faces as I presented each with a Club banner, Canada pin and fancy pen. We took pictures. Afterwards several came up to me and very quietly thanked me for letting them go to school. The desperation these boys have to be in school is palpable. In Canada we would be afraid to be putting so much pressure on them. Can you imagine telling a Canadian boy that he is out on the street if he doesn't score in the top 20% of his class each of his final 4 years.
We then toured the apparently empty school grounds of 1000 boys. On a Sunday, with no supervision, the classrooms were stuffed full of boys studying. The place was silent as a library. Except the drama hall- there, over 20 boys, no teacher, were rehearsing for a drama contest- singing marching etc. Cody was asked if Canadian boys study this hard sans supervision- he said they don't study this hard with supervision. MSH, we were told by our guide, tries to win everything, from rugby to Drama to academics- and succeeds. They are the current rugby champs. Out of 83 schools in the Western Province MSH placed #2 academically (Rotary High placed 73rd). For such a high rated school the grounds were run down as were the outhouses and school uniforms.
Nora told many heart breaking stories of the boys that get turned away, despite straight A's in primary school. She now runs a high Achievers program that, via the Unitarian Church, supports 25 other boys in the district. It is not odd for a boy to enter high school at the age of 20+ years, each time retaking the primary school finals to prove his worth (you have to be invited to high school, sort of like a draft pick), before he has the grades and the money to get into the first year. What's really heart breaking is when they ace first year, but cant afford the fees for second year and have to leave.
We ended the day, tired but satisfied that this project is an excellent one and our home club should be proud. Full Marks to Nora and her Courtenay contact Chip Ross.
So to sum up we have visited and learned of several projects:
The CEDAR foundation which puts about 250 girls per year through school
The Bukura Fish Farmers Organization
The Bukura Tailoring School
The Friends Care Centre (Orphanage)
Daisy School for the Handicapped
And a few more where we met the people that worked on stuff. Each of these people seemed to have taken several kids under their wing and put them through school. Susan, Alinda, Nora all have put several kids through school on their own dime and these kids are no longer kids, but adults who keep in touch.
Coming soon: Terry's solo run through the buggy jungle just as it is getting dark while monkeys crash (loudly) about in trees above and images of the Green Bush Viper and Forest Cobra that he saw 1 hour earlier, dance through his head… if anyone should get malaria or killed by wildlife in Africa its me - yet the matatu's scare me more.
Terry
Raison d'blog
Jan 26/09 Mon
First, a word about this blog. It's not totally meant to entertain, it's basically an online journal that we are keeping for several reasons- most of them selfish. We want to look back on it later to reminisce and remember the people and places we meet. We are subtly asking for money. At least I am. If anyone reading this is so moved send us an email and for $500 CDN we can pay for full year of boarding school for a brilliant girl or boy ($300 CDN for day school). Any partial amounts can be combined. Cash is king here, so if you ever wanted to donate but were afraid it wouldn't get there this is your chance- we can even bring home a baggie of manure form the cow ( $550) or dairy goat($180) you chip in for. Just because we are accepting money, doesn't mean you haven't already given a lot. I hate asking, It's just I'd hate not asking more. We have about $900.00 left over after the plane tickets to help out with projects. We have already dipped into it for about $200 to add an extra shelf to each of the 65 school desks. We are also helping Alinda find a good home for $3000 she has pledged from another Rotary club and $1800 from a Comox Valley elementary school. If we find something really special we may dip into our LOC to make it happen. As many of you know I am a bit of a gold bug, so if the price of gold and silver keeps going up, more good things will happen here.
Another thing this blog is is a thank you to those that came to our wedding and/or gave us the cash to fly here (the late Grandpa Shore not excluded). This trip is part holiday and part how-can-we-best-help research and part checking on ongoing projects and part get the 65 school desks for Daisy done.. Finally the purpose for this blog is that it forces us to reflect coherently on what we are seeing because someone might actually read this stuff. For example Tanya told me I better sit down and write something because she has done most of the blogging. I reminded her that SHE can type 60 WPM and I have a journal full of scribbles to show for myself. She looked at me in that ; "You know that's not good enough". And she's right. Blogging forces you to marshal your thoughts and condense your experiences so they don't just drift and dissipate. For Cody this blog is forced labour in lieu of being in school. Now, back to theThank-you,-Got-more-money?,-Lest-we-forget,-Do-your-blog-before-bed-because-I said-so blog.
Terry
First, a word about this blog. It's not totally meant to entertain, it's basically an online journal that we are keeping for several reasons- most of them selfish. We want to look back on it later to reminisce and remember the people and places we meet. We are subtly asking for money. At least I am. If anyone reading this is so moved send us an email and for $500 CDN we can pay for full year of boarding school for a brilliant girl or boy ($300 CDN for day school). Any partial amounts can be combined. Cash is king here, so if you ever wanted to donate but were afraid it wouldn't get there this is your chance- we can even bring home a baggie of manure form the cow ( $550) or dairy goat($180) you chip in for. Just because we are accepting money, doesn't mean you haven't already given a lot. I hate asking, It's just I'd hate not asking more. We have about $900.00 left over after the plane tickets to help out with projects. We have already dipped into it for about $200 to add an extra shelf to each of the 65 school desks. We are also helping Alinda find a good home for $3000 she has pledged from another Rotary club and $1800 from a Comox Valley elementary school. If we find something really special we may dip into our LOC to make it happen. As many of you know I am a bit of a gold bug, so if the price of gold and silver keeps going up, more good things will happen here.
Another thing this blog is is a thank you to those that came to our wedding and/or gave us the cash to fly here (the late Grandpa Shore not excluded). This trip is part holiday and part how-can-we-best-help research and part checking on ongoing projects and part get the 65 school desks for Daisy done.. Finally the purpose for this blog is that it forces us to reflect coherently on what we are seeing because someone might actually read this stuff. For example Tanya told me I better sit down and write something because she has done most of the blogging. I reminded her that SHE can type 60 WPM and I have a journal full of scribbles to show for myself. She looked at me in that ; "You know that's not good enough". And she's right. Blogging forces you to marshal your thoughts and condense your experiences so they don't just drift and dissipate. For Cody this blog is forced labour in lieu of being in school. Now, back to theThank-you,-Got-more-money?,-Lest-we-forget,-Do-your-blog-before-bed-because-I said-so blog.
Terry
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Kakamega Forest
Thank you to everyone that has sent us "the voice of reason" in
response to our musings on how we can help here and how overwhelming
the need is. I thought about leaving that for my personal journal,
but wanted this blog to be a true representation of what it is like
for us here. So, you'll get the good, the bad, the ridiculous and the
ugly. Rest assured that we are loving every minute of it.
We've spend the last two days in the Kakamega Forest -- the last 240
sq kms of tropical rainforest in Kenya. It was not easy to shell out
the thousands of shillings for the entrance, the bandas and then more
for the guide, but it was well worth it. We went on three guided
walks, to the lookout, the falls and the nature trail which took about
4 hours for all. The forest is home to butterflies, snakes, birds,
monkeys, antellope, and pigs. We were fortunate enough to see two
snakes -- a bush viper and a forest cobra. Both poisonous. Our guide
told us that you have 7 minutes to get to the hospital after being
bitten by a forest cobra. Not too comforting when we are standing
about 6 feet away watching it climb straight up the tree in front of
us.
We were chuckling to ourselves as we followed our very shy guide
through the dense forest. She was dressed in a long bright green
skirt and blouse, with her hair in a nice braided bun, with little
flat shoes. No water, no hiking boots, no compass, no whistle, no
pockets... Jack takes more gear with him on a run in Seal Bay :o)
We did not come prepared to the forest. Everyone told us to bring our
own food, but for some reason we thought they were kidding. I had
packed 3 oranges and a couple of mangos and we bought a couple little
bags of peanuts out of the window of the matatu. After our four hour
hike, we finished our food and still had the afternoon and evening to
get through. Terry had his book and journal with him, but I didn't
want the extra weight, so Cody and I had a very quiet, peaceful siesta
in the afternoon. This is the first time in the trip that I have
heard Cody complain. "This blows" is I believe how he put it.
After a rest we were getting ready to go on a night walk (dusk), with
hopes of seeing a flying squirrel, some bats and a couple of the
nocturnal monkeys. Just as we got our headlamps and hats on, the
skies opened up with another thunder and lightening storm. We tried
to brave it, but it was pretty clear that this was going to be another
serious storm and the idea of being lost in the forest, in the dark in
the middle of a storm, just wasn't that appealing. So, we made a run
for our banda.
We were staying in Udo's Bandas, which were adorable mud huts with
thatch roofs. Ours was the largest available with four single beds,
each with their own mosquito net, and two wicker chairs. At 7pm, with
no books to read or cards to play, we crawled into bed. It was so
dark, I couldn't see any difference whether my eyes were open or
closed. The sound of the storm made it that much more cool. We tried
to forget about the bizarre looking bugs we saw on the other side of
our mosquito nets.
I was happy to have Cody unplugged and all to myself in the bed next
to mine. We chatted about monkeys, gossip about his brothers and
Southpark into the night.
We had heard that the sunrise from the look-out was not to be missed,
so we set Terry's alarm on his watch and headed out at about 6:15am.
Cody unfortunately couldn't be persuaded to join us. It was a little
buggy, but fresh and shiney from the rain. After walking for about 15
minutes, Terry made a waving motion to me. There in our path maybe 50
feet ahead were a tribe of baboons. Definitely worth the price of
admission! I went from being excited to scared. Excited won in the
end and we spent at least half an hour watching them do what baboons
do. Mamas carrying babies, little ones playing and chasing each
other, females presenting their bottoms to the alpha male... yes, we
even saw quite a bit of monkey business.
What a gift. We missed the sunrise as the baboons were in our path.
Eventually they made some space for us and we walked around up to the
lookout for a spectacular view of the misty forest.
We saw them again on the way back down. When we got back to camp,
Cody was awake and I was able to talk him into coming to see the
baboons. It was a stretch because a couple of hours had passed, but
we had to try. We did not make it to the rock quarry where Terry and
I had seen them, rather they met us on the path. They were walking on
our path towards us. Cody agreed that next time he will trust me.
When I drag him out of bed early it is for a good reason.
We saw more monkeys on our way out of the park -- black and white
colobus, red tailed and another grey type we're not sure of the name
of.
A great day... more later.
response to our musings on how we can help here and how overwhelming
the need is. I thought about leaving that for my personal journal,
but wanted this blog to be a true representation of what it is like
for us here. So, you'll get the good, the bad, the ridiculous and the
ugly. Rest assured that we are loving every minute of it.
We've spend the last two days in the Kakamega Forest -- the last 240
sq kms of tropical rainforest in Kenya. It was not easy to shell out
the thousands of shillings for the entrance, the bandas and then more
for the guide, but it was well worth it. We went on three guided
walks, to the lookout, the falls and the nature trail which took about
4 hours for all. The forest is home to butterflies, snakes, birds,
monkeys, antellope, and pigs. We were fortunate enough to see two
snakes -- a bush viper and a forest cobra. Both poisonous. Our guide
told us that you have 7 minutes to get to the hospital after being
bitten by a forest cobra. Not too comforting when we are standing
about 6 feet away watching it climb straight up the tree in front of
us.
We were chuckling to ourselves as we followed our very shy guide
through the dense forest. She was dressed in a long bright green
skirt and blouse, with her hair in a nice braided bun, with little
flat shoes. No water, no hiking boots, no compass, no whistle, no
pockets... Jack takes more gear with him on a run in Seal Bay :o)
We did not come prepared to the forest. Everyone told us to bring our
own food, but for some reason we thought they were kidding. I had
packed 3 oranges and a couple of mangos and we bought a couple little
bags of peanuts out of the window of the matatu. After our four hour
hike, we finished our food and still had the afternoon and evening to
get through. Terry had his book and journal with him, but I didn't
want the extra weight, so Cody and I had a very quiet, peaceful siesta
in the afternoon. This is the first time in the trip that I have
heard Cody complain. "This blows" is I believe how he put it.
After a rest we were getting ready to go on a night walk (dusk), with
hopes of seeing a flying squirrel, some bats and a couple of the
nocturnal monkeys. Just as we got our headlamps and hats on, the
skies opened up with another thunder and lightening storm. We tried
to brave it, but it was pretty clear that this was going to be another
serious storm and the idea of being lost in the forest, in the dark in
the middle of a storm, just wasn't that appealing. So, we made a run
for our banda.
We were staying in Udo's Bandas, which were adorable mud huts with
thatch roofs. Ours was the largest available with four single beds,
each with their own mosquito net, and two wicker chairs. At 7pm, with
no books to read or cards to play, we crawled into bed. It was so
dark, I couldn't see any difference whether my eyes were open or
closed. The sound of the storm made it that much more cool. We tried
to forget about the bizarre looking bugs we saw on the other side of
our mosquito nets.
I was happy to have Cody unplugged and all to myself in the bed next
to mine. We chatted about monkeys, gossip about his brothers and
Southpark into the night.
We had heard that the sunrise from the look-out was not to be missed,
so we set Terry's alarm on his watch and headed out at about 6:15am.
Cody unfortunately couldn't be persuaded to join us. It was a little
buggy, but fresh and shiney from the rain. After walking for about 15
minutes, Terry made a waving motion to me. There in our path maybe 50
feet ahead were a tribe of baboons. Definitely worth the price of
admission! I went from being excited to scared. Excited won in the
end and we spent at least half an hour watching them do what baboons
do. Mamas carrying babies, little ones playing and chasing each
other, females presenting their bottoms to the alpha male... yes, we
even saw quite a bit of monkey business.
What a gift. We missed the sunrise as the baboons were in our path.
Eventually they made some space for us and we walked around up to the
lookout for a spectacular view of the misty forest.
We saw them again on the way back down. When we got back to camp,
Cody was awake and I was able to talk him into coming to see the
baboons. It was a stretch because a couple of hours had passed, but
we had to try. We did not make it to the rock quarry where Terry and
I had seen them, rather they met us on the path. They were walking on
our path towards us. Cody agreed that next time he will trust me.
When I drag him out of bed early it is for a good reason.
We saw more monkeys on our way out of the park -- black and white
colobus, red tailed and another grey type we're not sure of the name
of.
A great day... more later.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Morning thoughts
So it has happened. I woke up this morning with thoughts of selling my car. The $400/month I spend for the luxury and convenience of driving a brand new car could put 6 kids through high school.
It dawned on me this morning that this is not my first introduction to poverty. When I was 19, I went to the Dominican Republic. All but 2 or 3 days of that two week holiday were spent on the beach at the resort. When we did venture into town, the poverty was unavoidable. My mom reminded me that I had the same fearful response when the little kids of Sousa were crowding around and touching me then as I did to the lost boys here. In the Dominican I saw little kids working in amber factories, begging in the streets, living in ramshackle homes, wearing torn clothing and looking through sad eyes. I took pictures and thought how sad. And I couldn’t wait to get back behind the iron gates to the safety and luxury of the resort.
I wonder why I wasn’t moved then to do something about it? As I think back, I realize that it never crossed my mind that I could.
It takes so little to do so much. I am under no illusion that I can save the world, nor do I see it as my duty. But I understand now what I can do. I think of all the personal development work I have done on self esteem, personal empowerment and balance. I get what it has all been about now.
You make a difference.
I see the work that Susan Thompson and so many others are doing here. Susan is very ordinary. She is not particularly rich (she has a Monday to Friday government job), nor does she possess any remarkable skills (no more than the rest of us). And yet she has done so much. I won’t list here again all that she is doing to provide hope and a helping hand up.
So after all the workshops, books and therapy I think enough of myself now to know that I can make a significant difference. And all of my “be all you can be” life coaching fluff really matters. Because when I was 19, I didn’t know what I was capable of. I didn’t think enough of myself to know that I could actually make a difference. Now I get it.
Don’t worry, I’m not going to sell everything I own… well, not yet anyway, we’ll see what happens after a couple more weeks here. And I won’t ask or expect you to either. I love the life that I have and I just want to do what I can to give others the chance at a life they can love for themselves, their children and their community. Or should I say, for myself, for my children and for my community. We are all one after all.
It dawned on me this morning that this is not my first introduction to poverty. When I was 19, I went to the Dominican Republic. All but 2 or 3 days of that two week holiday were spent on the beach at the resort. When we did venture into town, the poverty was unavoidable. My mom reminded me that I had the same fearful response when the little kids of Sousa were crowding around and touching me then as I did to the lost boys here. In the Dominican I saw little kids working in amber factories, begging in the streets, living in ramshackle homes, wearing torn clothing and looking through sad eyes. I took pictures and thought how sad. And I couldn’t wait to get back behind the iron gates to the safety and luxury of the resort.
I wonder why I wasn’t moved then to do something about it? As I think back, I realize that it never crossed my mind that I could.
It takes so little to do so much. I am under no illusion that I can save the world, nor do I see it as my duty. But I understand now what I can do. I think of all the personal development work I have done on self esteem, personal empowerment and balance. I get what it has all been about now.
You make a difference.
I see the work that Susan Thompson and so many others are doing here. Susan is very ordinary. She is not particularly rich (she has a Monday to Friday government job), nor does she possess any remarkable skills (no more than the rest of us). And yet she has done so much. I won’t list here again all that she is doing to provide hope and a helping hand up.
So after all the workshops, books and therapy I think enough of myself now to know that I can make a significant difference. And all of my “be all you can be” life coaching fluff really matters. Because when I was 19, I didn’t know what I was capable of. I didn’t think enough of myself to know that I could actually make a difference. Now I get it.
Don’t worry, I’m not going to sell everything I own… well, not yet anyway, we’ll see what happens after a couple more weeks here. And I won’t ask or expect you to either. I love the life that I have and I just want to do what I can to give others the chance at a life they can love for themselves, their children and their community. Or should I say, for myself, for my children and for my community. We are all one after all.
Terry's Musing on the run
Jan 25
Its Sunday morning, we have been in Africa 10 days and in Kakamega for 8. I have emerged from my mosquito net to do my own bit of blogging on the computer.
So many areas to blab about: the People, the Scenery, the Projects, the Environment. Each is worth a blog in itself.
We are at 4500 feet so Im not feeling like a running superstar. Im getting out everyday (sometimes twice) and each run is a new adventure. The roads here do not exist on any map and to be called roads is a bit of a compliment. I basically leave out our front gate each morning and try to take off in a different direction in the hopes of getting lost and then finding my way home. I run shirtless; I love the heat, about 20 degrees in the morning. No matter how many back roads and paths I take I attract lots of attention: from blank stares to “OBAMA!” and go, go go. There is no place to go without people. The terrain is so rough I have to concentrate on my footing, instead of returning all the greetings I get.
I was surprised at first not to see scooters and 3 wheeled tuk tuks here, as in India; just bikes and motorbikes. This seemed odd because motorbikes are much more expensive. But now I realize that the roads are simply too rough. So people walk. Rush hour traffic here is wall to wall pedestrians and bicycles with just enough cars and motorbikes to keep it interesting.
For running that’s a good thing, dodging people and cow dung is less intimidating than dodging vehicles.
We have such a nice place this feels like a holiday, as it is. Its funny how being literally next door to slums and major poverty feels normal to me. It feels more normal than being in Courtenay where people think we actually have problems, like the homeless. Or I think about the Habitat for Humanity house that was built in town for a family of five. The cost to help that family was probably around $100,000.00. That amount of money could change the lives of 250 kids here by letting them go to school, instead of staying home in the dust. As I run through the slums I fantasize about being a millionaire or Warren Buffet and just helping everyone I see. Same thing I day dream about on my runs in Courtenay .
As we go from project to project we see and meet the kids that are looking for school money. They aren’t even looking really. Their parents are dead and a local do gooder is trying to help them by asking for money from us (‘Us’ as in the rich). I wish we could smell a scam, but there just isn’t any catch. Not even the drug excuse we have back home where the poor and needy often came from good homes, but got carried away by drugs. Or where they came from bad homes and got carried away with drugs. These kids here have no drug problems, they don’t even have enough money to smoke, just a history of being really poor with dead parents.
Well not the most cheery blog, but its what I think about most here (actually I think a lot about it at home too which is why Im here, partly). I wonder why I don’t sell everything off to help as many as I can. We are planning a safari that will entertain us for 3 days, for the same cost we could put 9 kids though primary school for a year. And we are going to go. And probably not feel too guilty about it. The human being is a selfish animal. Its not that depressing, it just is what it is. For some reason we humans, including yours truly, can spend money on home renos and $4 coffees, knowing full well that people are starving to death just a plane ride away. And Im human. No excuses. No point trying to figure it out. We’ll try to help a lot of humans while we are here, within our personal means and comfort, and with Rotary and other groups many thousands are being helped. So many groups are here doing good work. A lot of those donor dollars are getting gratefully received. When people say “Im worried my donor dollars wont get to the source” I think it’s a good concern, but donate (with discretion) anyway. How many dollars that get donated to Wal mart and Starbucks profit margin go to a good cause? We knowingly pay Nike $100.00 for a sneaker that cost them 10 cents to make without worrying if the extra $99.90 went where it was needed most.
Im off for a run, not sure what I’ll see today. Yesterday we saw a big leafy (like a giant fern) tree full of huge black storks. It looked like a scene out of a Tarzan movie and it was about 5 minutes from here.
author: Terry
Its Sunday morning, we have been in Africa 10 days and in Kakamega for 8. I have emerged from my mosquito net to do my own bit of blogging on the computer.
So many areas to blab about: the People, the Scenery, the Projects, the Environment. Each is worth a blog in itself.
We are at 4500 feet so Im not feeling like a running superstar. Im getting out everyday (sometimes twice) and each run is a new adventure. The roads here do not exist on any map and to be called roads is a bit of a compliment. I basically leave out our front gate each morning and try to take off in a different direction in the hopes of getting lost and then finding my way home. I run shirtless; I love the heat, about 20 degrees in the morning. No matter how many back roads and paths I take I attract lots of attention: from blank stares to “OBAMA!” and go, go go. There is no place to go without people. The terrain is so rough I have to concentrate on my footing, instead of returning all the greetings I get.
I was surprised at first not to see scooters and 3 wheeled tuk tuks here, as in India; just bikes and motorbikes. This seemed odd because motorbikes are much more expensive. But now I realize that the roads are simply too rough. So people walk. Rush hour traffic here is wall to wall pedestrians and bicycles with just enough cars and motorbikes to keep it interesting.
For running that’s a good thing, dodging people and cow dung is less intimidating than dodging vehicles.
We have such a nice place this feels like a holiday, as it is. Its funny how being literally next door to slums and major poverty feels normal to me. It feels more normal than being in Courtenay where people think we actually have problems, like the homeless. Or I think about the Habitat for Humanity house that was built in town for a family of five. The cost to help that family was probably around $100,000.00. That amount of money could change the lives of 250 kids here by letting them go to school, instead of staying home in the dust. As I run through the slums I fantasize about being a millionaire or Warren Buffet and just helping everyone I see. Same thing I day dream about on my runs in Courtenay .
As we go from project to project we see and meet the kids that are looking for school money. They aren’t even looking really. Their parents are dead and a local do gooder is trying to help them by asking for money from us (‘Us’ as in the rich). I wish we could smell a scam, but there just isn’t any catch. Not even the drug excuse we have back home where the poor and needy often came from good homes, but got carried away by drugs. Or where they came from bad homes and got carried away with drugs. These kids here have no drug problems, they don’t even have enough money to smoke, just a history of being really poor with dead parents.
Well not the most cheery blog, but its what I think about most here (actually I think a lot about it at home too which is why Im here, partly). I wonder why I don’t sell everything off to help as many as I can. We are planning a safari that will entertain us for 3 days, for the same cost we could put 9 kids though primary school for a year. And we are going to go. And probably not feel too guilty about it. The human being is a selfish animal. Its not that depressing, it just is what it is. For some reason we humans, including yours truly, can spend money on home renos and $4 coffees, knowing full well that people are starving to death just a plane ride away. And Im human. No excuses. No point trying to figure it out. We’ll try to help a lot of humans while we are here, within our personal means and comfort, and with Rotary and other groups many thousands are being helped. So many groups are here doing good work. A lot of those donor dollars are getting gratefully received. When people say “Im worried my donor dollars wont get to the source” I think it’s a good concern, but donate (with discretion) anyway. How many dollars that get donated to Wal mart and Starbucks profit margin go to a good cause? We knowingly pay Nike $100.00 for a sneaker that cost them 10 cents to make without worrying if the extra $99.90 went where it was needed most.
Im off for a run, not sure what I’ll see today. Yesterday we saw a big leafy (like a giant fern) tree full of huge black storks. It looked like a scene out of a Tarzan movie and it was about 5 minutes from here.
author: Terry
Cody's Adventure Jan 23
Today I woke up at around 8 30am because we were going to meet up with Susan to go to a fish farm that she funded. We missed the original matatu we were going to go on but we got on another one later on. When we got to where we were going, we walked down a road for a bit but then we saw boda bodas and we got on them and they took us to the fish farm. When we got there we were greeted by a number of people. Today was the first day I ever went inside a mud house and it actually wasn’t so bad. I thought it would smell really bad and everything would look dirty, but it was fine, no smell at all. We sat down and started talking about stuff and then somebody brought in some sandwiches, roasted peanuts, and some tea. The sandwiches looked terrible but later found out that it was pretty much bread and butter so it wasn’t supposed to look good. The tea was great but before I was finished everyone started to go down to the fish farm. I was told I want allowed to leave until I finished my tea so I started chugging it down a little bit. I finished and caught up with everyone else and saw something I didn’t really expect to see. There were about 5-6 ponds. I thought “OK, where’s the fish farms at?” but these were the fish farms. The fish farms in Canada were nothing like this. So I walked down to the last pond and saw around 7 guys digging a new pond, by hand. There were no machines to be found anywhere and before I knew it I was in the hole digging with everybody else. The mud was so heavy, nothing like shovelling the snow out of the drive way. It was 5x heavier then that. It was all muddy at the bottom of the hole so I had to take my shoes off. The mud felt really good between my toes. I didn’t step on one rock. After we finished digging we washed up a little bit and went back inside the house for a meeting. After the meeting was done we all stepped outside for a little fresh air. Then we went back into the house for some more food, even though we had just eaten like an hour ago. We had ugali, really crispy cat fish, pita bread stuff, chicken broth/soup to dip the pitas in, and chicken. We also had some type of salad thingy but I didn’t like it. After we were done we started walking down the road and we got on a matatu to go back home. I realized that this was the same matatu we had taken that other time with the baby. But this time we fit 19 people into it, as to 18. I wonder why they do this when it’s only supposed to have 14 people. Any way, a ways down the road we started stalling a little bit. I thought it was the same problem as before, but this time we had a flat tire. I thought we got it for either 2 reasons, 1 is that there are pot holes everywhere and we hit a bad one, or 2, we had 19 people in the car going on a road that was filled with pot holes when we were legally only supposed to have 14. so we changed it and were on our way. But then we got another flat tire, the same place as before, the front left tire. Now we were out of tires but lucky for us there were 3 boda bodas going down the road. We got on them and went to the Kakamega cyber café. I went on face book a bit, did some e-mail and was done. We left the cyber café and walked down to our good friend Paul. We bought some fruit and vegetables and were on our way. We got home so I started reading my book. There was a pizza movie night at the shayway guest house but I decided I didn’t want to go. Later on in the evening, I started seeing lightning and hearing thunder and feeling the rain beat down on our house. Before I knew it, the power was out. I got my headlamp and guided mom to hers. I took this opportunity to name all the pictures on my phone and listen to some music. Right when I named the last picture in my phone, the power went back on. So I started to read my book again. After a while I started to get tired, so I set up my mosquito net and drifted off to sleep.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Run through the neighbourhood
I was just writing an email to a friend telling her that today was our first 'do nothing' day. Even a do nothing day is an adventure. After a lazy morning of reading, Terry took me on a beautiful run through our neighbourhood. We were on tiny little streets (paths really) passing homes with children playing. Running with the sound of little kids giggling and running along behind and beside you is such a neat feeling. Many people we passed gave us smiles and were shouting encouragement -- Keep it up, Keep going, always with a few 'mizungus' thrown in. I got lots of laughs and "oh, you are tired" as I struggled to keep up with Terry.
A young man joined us on the run wearing worn out flip flops, pants and a fleece pullover. He ran along side Terry up and down steep hills for probably 20 minutes out and back to his shop.
It was definitely a struggle as I am still getting used to the altitude here (we are at around 4,000ft above sea level), hills are steep and breathing is difficult. Not to mention the heat. But it is well worth it. I'm a bit of a chicken still and don't like Terry to get too far ahead of me. We were speaking to Alinda this morning and she told us that a young mizungu woman who stayed here used to hire a Kenyan to run with her. I may try that so as not to hold Terry up too often.
Last night we had the most intense rain, wind, thunder and lightening I have ever seen. Terry was out at 'movie and pizza night' at Sheywey guest house... Cody and I were too tired. When the power went out, Cody and I watched the lightening light up the hillside. It is even more beautiful in silouette. We were thankful to have brought head lamps with us. The power was only out a short time. We had a good sleep and the town feels fresher from the rain. There is some activity in the sky today, so will not be surprised if we have another storm tonight.
Seems I have donated my favourite pants... I left a pair out on the line to dry yesterday and they are no where to be found today. It's hard to be too upset about it.
A young man joined us on the run wearing worn out flip flops, pants and a fleece pullover. He ran along side Terry up and down steep hills for probably 20 minutes out and back to his shop.
It was definitely a struggle as I am still getting used to the altitude here (we are at around 4,000ft above sea level), hills are steep and breathing is difficult. Not to mention the heat. But it is well worth it. I'm a bit of a chicken still and don't like Terry to get too far ahead of me. We were speaking to Alinda this morning and she told us that a young mizungu woman who stayed here used to hire a Kenyan to run with her. I may try that so as not to hold Terry up too often.
Last night we had the most intense rain, wind, thunder and lightening I have ever seen. Terry was out at 'movie and pizza night' at Sheywey guest house... Cody and I were too tired. When the power went out, Cody and I watched the lightening light up the hillside. It is even more beautiful in silouette. We were thankful to have brought head lamps with us. The power was only out a short time. We had a good sleep and the town feels fresher from the rain. There is some activity in the sky today, so will not be surprised if we have another storm tonight.
Seems I have donated my favourite pants... I left a pair out on the line to dry yesterday and they are no where to be found today. It's hard to be too upset about it.
Friday, January 23, 2009
Ashtara Area Fish Farms
Just got back from another day with Susan. We are sitting in the cyber cafe, so forgive the typos, etc.
We started the day waiting for a matatu. They do not leave until they are full, so we had about a 45 minute wait before they would leave. We went out past Bukura and got off to start walking down a small dirt road. Now we are really in a rural area. The scenery was spectacularly beautiful, there are no words, but we are taking many pictures.
We were met by bodabodas after walking for 10 or 15 minutes. What a sight we must have been -- 5 mizungus and three Kenyans in a parade of bodabodas through rural Kenya. Believe me, they are not used to visitors here. At our destination we were met with a VERY enthusiastic Welcome hug and much laughter by Tabatha and the women of the area.
Every two weeks the group of fish farmers get together to meet and help each other work their farms -- today we were extending one pond. After we had tea and margarine sandwiches, we went to the ponds. Contrary to all the tourist magazines advice of not going in fresh water, watching out for rural area, parasites, bugs, etc., we all took off our shoes, grabbed a shovel and waded in shin deep mud and water to help dig the pond. This is the first time I have felt useful since we arrived. It was a beautiful site, women, men, Cody, mizungus, Kenyans, all working side by side in the heat of the day covered in mud and sweat and smiles.
After working for about an hour (the group had been working all morning, so we are very aware of how small our contribution was), it was time for the meeting which was to be held in the home of Susan (a Kenyan, not our Susan). The same formality was followed with everyone introducing themselves, "My names are..., I greet you good afternoon, welcome!" The group wanted to honour "Mama Susan" and Hussain for all of their support with a song and dance. They placed sparkley garland, like we would place around a tacky Christmas Tree, over their head. They call her Mama Susan because she cares for them as a mother would care for a child.
The home was a mud building with cow dung floor -- they must use dung (it is dry of course) for the floors to stop the jiggers from coming through (jiggers are worms that burrough into your feet and cause swelling, sounds very painful). During the meeting we would hear a goat bleeting, cows mooing, cocks crowing. Cody couldn't help but smile. When it was our turn to introduce ourselves Cody said that he has never experienced anything like this at home. One of the commity members thanked us, the visitors, for witnessing what we are doing.
Another meal followed -- large plates of ugali (kind of a mashed maize that they roll around in their hand like playdough and then dip into sauce), chippati (sp?), kale and very crispy fried fish. We lounged under the trees in the shade and visited. The group gifted Susan with four hand made chairs which we had to bring back with us on the matatu.
Todays matatu had 19. Turns out it was the same vehicle as yesterday. We made it less than 10 minutes before we had a flat tire which they were able to fix on the side of the road. When we got to the main highway we saw a police check and had to lighten our load. Three of the passengers had to get out in order to pass the check. The driver gave them money for a bodaboda. We made it through the check and then pulled over a little ways down the road. Our friends, Hussein and Matano could not catch a bodaboda so walked to catch up to us. When they got in, the driver asked for the money he had given them for the bodaboda. I wonder if you really get how absurd this all is! A short while later, another flat tire. This time we separated -- Susan and some of the crew got a ride with her chairs in a pick up truck. Terry, Cody and I were able to catch three bodabodas to get here.
There is so much more. We chewed sugar cane on the walk back. Saw adorable babies and little kids that we just wanted to take home and give them a bath and some new clothes.
Terry wants me to be sure to mention just how uncomfortable he was in the back of the matatu.
Tonight is movie night at Sheywey, but we may have had all the adventure we can take for one day.
I saw this painted on the mudflap of a bodaboda this morning: Even the Rich Cry
We started the day waiting for a matatu. They do not leave until they are full, so we had about a 45 minute wait before they would leave. We went out past Bukura and got off to start walking down a small dirt road. Now we are really in a rural area. The scenery was spectacularly beautiful, there are no words, but we are taking many pictures.
We were met by bodabodas after walking for 10 or 15 minutes. What a sight we must have been -- 5 mizungus and three Kenyans in a parade of bodabodas through rural Kenya. Believe me, they are not used to visitors here. At our destination we were met with a VERY enthusiastic Welcome hug and much laughter by Tabatha and the women of the area.
Every two weeks the group of fish farmers get together to meet and help each other work their farms -- today we were extending one pond. After we had tea and margarine sandwiches, we went to the ponds. Contrary to all the tourist magazines advice of not going in fresh water, watching out for rural area, parasites, bugs, etc., we all took off our shoes, grabbed a shovel and waded in shin deep mud and water to help dig the pond. This is the first time I have felt useful since we arrived. It was a beautiful site, women, men, Cody, mizungus, Kenyans, all working side by side in the heat of the day covered in mud and sweat and smiles.
After working for about an hour (the group had been working all morning, so we are very aware of how small our contribution was), it was time for the meeting which was to be held in the home of Susan (a Kenyan, not our Susan). The same formality was followed with everyone introducing themselves, "My names are..., I greet you good afternoon, welcome!" The group wanted to honour "Mama Susan" and Hussain for all of their support with a song and dance. They placed sparkley garland, like we would place around a tacky Christmas Tree, over their head. They call her Mama Susan because she cares for them as a mother would care for a child.
The home was a mud building with cow dung floor -- they must use dung (it is dry of course) for the floors to stop the jiggers from coming through (jiggers are worms that burrough into your feet and cause swelling, sounds very painful). During the meeting we would hear a goat bleeting, cows mooing, cocks crowing. Cody couldn't help but smile. When it was our turn to introduce ourselves Cody said that he has never experienced anything like this at home. One of the commity members thanked us, the visitors, for witnessing what we are doing.
Another meal followed -- large plates of ugali (kind of a mashed maize that they roll around in their hand like playdough and then dip into sauce), chippati (sp?), kale and very crispy fried fish. We lounged under the trees in the shade and visited. The group gifted Susan with four hand made chairs which we had to bring back with us on the matatu.
Todays matatu had 19. Turns out it was the same vehicle as yesterday. We made it less than 10 minutes before we had a flat tire which they were able to fix on the side of the road. When we got to the main highway we saw a police check and had to lighten our load. Three of the passengers had to get out in order to pass the check. The driver gave them money for a bodaboda. We made it through the check and then pulled over a little ways down the road. Our friends, Hussein and Matano could not catch a bodaboda so walked to catch up to us. When they got in, the driver asked for the money he had given them for the bodaboda. I wonder if you really get how absurd this all is! A short while later, another flat tire. This time we separated -- Susan and some of the crew got a ride with her chairs in a pick up truck. Terry, Cody and I were able to catch three bodabodas to get here.
There is so much more. We chewed sugar cane on the walk back. Saw adorable babies and little kids that we just wanted to take home and give them a bath and some new clothes.
Terry wants me to be sure to mention just how uncomfortable he was in the back of the matatu.
Tonight is movie night at Sheywey, but we may have had all the adventure we can take for one day.
I saw this painted on the mudflap of a bodaboda this morning: Even the Rich Cry
Thursday, January 22, 2009
"Friends of Kakamega"
2009-01-22
We have now visited the Friends of Kakamega Centre. Very moving. We spent several hours with the kids and the director. It appears to be a very well run centre helping over 234 orphans. We will do some checking around to verify the reputation, but at first glance it certainly looks very positive.
There centre runs several programs:
46 orphans live at the centre where all of their needs are met including housing, clothes, food and education. There is a feeding program for an additional 59 children that come each day for lunch. Their Home-based Program supports 101 children who live at home with a grandmother, guardian or friends. Each year they are given $250 each which is only a portion of what one would need to adequately feed, clothe and educate their children. They are also provided a mattress, some bedding, a uniform and a few necessities. The centre supports 17 students that go to High School and live at the centre. Tuition for high school is 20,000 Ksh/term plus an additional 20,000Ksh for required uniform and supplies.
We discussed the idea of buying an animal for the home-based program. It has its advantages but the disadvantages is the livestock need, care, space, feed and veterinary services. This may be too much for a grandmother to manage. It would also be extra work for the centre to help the grandmother manage.
A large cow…80,000 shillings (56 ksh = 1 CDN $)
Small cow……40,000 shillings
Goat ………….20,000 shillings
Chicken……….10,000 shillings
Valley View raised 100,800 shillings
We asked Dorothy, the Centre Director, what she would do if she could do whatever she wanted. She said she would pay the school fees of 4 children or the partial costs for 8 children, enough to get them in school full time.
Today we gave the children the soccer balls, which instantly replaced the ball they made from plastic bags and we showed them the names on the ball. We also gave them a photo of your Club and we took a video of the children saying "Thank You Valley View"
We have now visited the Friends of Kakamega Centre. Very moving. We spent several hours with the kids and the director. It appears to be a very well run centre helping over 234 orphans. We will do some checking around to verify the reputation, but at first glance it certainly looks very positive.
There centre runs several programs:
46 orphans live at the centre where all of their needs are met including housing, clothes, food and education. There is a feeding program for an additional 59 children that come each day for lunch. Their Home-based Program supports 101 children who live at home with a grandmother, guardian or friends. Each year they are given $250 each which is only a portion of what one would need to adequately feed, clothe and educate their children. They are also provided a mattress, some bedding, a uniform and a few necessities. The centre supports 17 students that go to High School and live at the centre. Tuition for high school is 20,000 Ksh/term plus an additional 20,000Ksh for required uniform and supplies.
We discussed the idea of buying an animal for the home-based program. It has its advantages but the disadvantages is the livestock need, care, space, feed and veterinary services. This may be too much for a grandmother to manage. It would also be extra work for the centre to help the grandmother manage.
A large cow…80,000 shillings (56 ksh = 1 CDN $)
Small cow……40,000 shillings
Goat ………….20,000 shillings
Chicken……….10,000 shillings
Valley View raised 100,800 shillings
We asked Dorothy, the Centre Director, what she would do if she could do whatever she wanted. She said she would pay the school fees of 4 children or the partial costs for 8 children, enough to get them in school full time.
Today we gave the children the soccer balls, which instantly replaced the ball they made from plastic bags and we showed them the names on the ball. We also gave them a photo of your Club and we took a video of the children saying "Thank You Valley View"
Cody Waters, observations
Cody's entry
2009-01-20
After we left the school, we had to make a decision, either a 1 hour ride on a big bus, not really comfortable, or a half hour matatu ride and was really uncomfortable. We chose the matatu. We got in and sat down and I immediately knew this was going to be pretty bad. The matatu was originally supposed to sit something like 10 people. Well we don't start moving until the matatu was full, and when we had 10 people inside, we didn't start moving. I was kind of confused, I mean, the matatu is full lets get a move on. We didn't start going until we had 18 people inside. You're probably wondering how that's possible. We had people sitting on top of each other, people like, half standing half crouching in the matatu. Oh yea, a matatu is pretty much a bus but its van. So it's a van-bus. The only thing that made this matatu ride decent was that there was a little baby sitting beside me. He had the smallest face in the world but big puffy cheeks. Every time I looked at him it made me smile. But the baby got off before us so the rest of the way I couldn't stop thinking of how uncomfortable this van-bus really was. On the way to our destination, we suddenly stopped in the middle of the road. Well we more like stopped in the middle of a little place with a couple shops. Anyways some people came out and started looking under the car. I thought we might of ran something over but it turns out the transmission was really terrible. We couldn't stop to let any one of unless it was on a hill or we just kept moving and they would have to jump off. We finally got to the gas station in Kakamega which was really close to our house. We got off, thanked the bus driver, but we didn't go home yet. We went to the internet café for somewhere around 30 minutes. I did all I had to in like 10 minutes, like went on facebook for a bit, sent an e-mail to my dad, then went on facebook some more. We only had 2 computers so when I was done; my mom went on the computer I was using. We both finished before Terry did because he was trying to do some banking or something. So me and mom walked home without him. We stopped at the market and got a couple things then we walked home. But when we got home, we didn't have the keys to get back in the house. Mom had an soccer ball and a pump in the bag for some reason so I pumped it up and started kicking it around. 20 minutes later, Terry got home and we went inside. I started reading my book and only had like 20 pages left. So I finished my first book and started on my second. I soon lost track of time but it was dark out side and I was sleepy so I set up my mosquito net, and went to sleep.
2009-01-20
After we left the school, we had to make a decision, either a 1 hour ride on a big bus, not really comfortable, or a half hour matatu ride and was really uncomfortable. We chose the matatu. We got in and sat down and I immediately knew this was going to be pretty bad. The matatu was originally supposed to sit something like 10 people. Well we don't start moving until the matatu was full, and when we had 10 people inside, we didn't start moving. I was kind of confused, I mean, the matatu is full lets get a move on. We didn't start going until we had 18 people inside. You're probably wondering how that's possible. We had people sitting on top of each other, people like, half standing half crouching in the matatu. Oh yea, a matatu is pretty much a bus but its van. So it's a van-bus. The only thing that made this matatu ride decent was that there was a little baby sitting beside me. He had the smallest face in the world but big puffy cheeks. Every time I looked at him it made me smile. But the baby got off before us so the rest of the way I couldn't stop thinking of how uncomfortable this van-bus really was. On the way to our destination, we suddenly stopped in the middle of the road. Well we more like stopped in the middle of a little place with a couple shops. Anyways some people came out and started looking under the car. I thought we might of ran something over but it turns out the transmission was really terrible. We couldn't stop to let any one of unless it was on a hill or we just kept moving and they would have to jump off. We finally got to the gas station in Kakamega which was really close to our house. We got off, thanked the bus driver, but we didn't go home yet. We went to the internet café for somewhere around 30 minutes. I did all I had to in like 10 minutes, like went on facebook for a bit, sent an e-mail to my dad, then went on facebook some more. We only had 2 computers so when I was done; my mom went on the computer I was using. We both finished before Terry did because he was trying to do some banking or something. So me and mom walked home without him. We stopped at the market and got a couple things then we walked home. But when we got home, we didn't have the keys to get back in the house. Mom had an soccer ball and a pump in the bag for some reason so I pumped it up and started kicking it around. 20 minutes later, Terry got home and we went inside. I started reading my book and only had like 20 pages left. So I finished my first book and started on my second. I soon lost track of time but it was dark out side and I was sleepy so I set up my mosquito net, and went to sleep.
morning, susan, fish and textiles
January 20, 2009
Terry woke up at his usual 4:30am and when he came back to bed around 6:30, I laid in bed listening to the birds singing, roosters crowing and dogs barking. The evening sounds are frogs, crickets, more birds and more dogs. Oh, was that a cow I just heard.
We had an easy start to the day, sitting in our yard overlooking the hills reading. The sound of drums and singing filled the air. Later we found out that was in celebration of Barack Obama day. We have had many days like this in our own backyard at home (sans drums of course). Only today, we are in Africa. We are still waiting for someone to yell, "Cut" and for the cameras to stop rolling.
We've just come from a bit of a party at the Sheywey Guesthouse where Mizungus and Kenyans gathered to have dinner and watch the inauguration of Barock Obama. I felt chills when it dawned on me that here I am in Kenya watching the first African American being sworn in to the office of the President of the United States. Amazing.
Speaking of amazing, this afternoon we met with Susan Thompson, whom Terry has been corresponding with for a few months. Susan is from the Yukon and has been coming to Kakamega since 2004. She has personally sponsored 10 or 15 students. When I say sponsored, I am not referring to sending $30 a month to an NGO like World Vision or Plan, I mean, she has met the students, visited their homes, has a relationship with their parents and has personally put them through school. Today she had a young man, Duncan, with her. Her brother, whom she is sending to university, is a good friend. Today she and Duncan were laden with bags from the shopping trip to purchase his school supplies, uniform and shoes. Duncan is 18 and in Form 2, grade 9.
We walked together to Susan's home on the other side of town. She has such an easy way about her and smiles and jokes with the Kenyans we meet on the way. Terry has commented several times how much like India this is. Dusty streets, market stands on the side of the road, the streets crowded with men walking, women with babies on their back or carrying bundles, baskets or water on their heads, boda bodas EVERYWHERE. It still feels surreal.
For the two months she is here, Susan is living in a small apartment for which she pays $100/month and includes her water and electricity. Our three bedroom "estate" is $400/month, water and electricity extra. Hers is definitely the real deal, with the sounds of children playing, dogs, and life happening right outside her door. She has neighbours that sweep her front porch for her and all of her neighbours are Kenyans – they take good care of me she says.
She has fish farm projects and is waiting on approval for a grant to provide training to the farmers – not only in how to dig a pond and the mechanics of fish farming, but in project management and most importantly working as a team. Working as a cooperative is a foreign concept to them. As an example, Susan told us that she had purchased some piping (again with her own money) and given it to one farmer to take to the cooperative and share it among the members. Later, she asked him if he had distributed the pipes, to which he answered, "No, I think I need it all."
She has also had the same trouble with the textile school she started (yes, again with her own financing… she really hopes her grant comes through soon!). She had purchased sewing machines for her school and then gone back to Canada. 8 months later when she came back the machines had been taken to a private home. Susan drove out to the home and took the machines back, while the mother cried and yelled. She says they get very angry at her. They are not used to mizungus coming back to check up on them.
Susan told us there are 23 mizungus (white people) in town including us. Kakamega has a population of close to a million, so we are definitely the minority. 12 of the 23 were at the inauguration party tonight.
Susan has hired a young man to work with her. She had put him through school and now pays him a daily rate to assist her with her projects. When she comes back to Canada, Hussein and his girlfriend will live in her apartment which is much better than their present situation. Where they are now has no running water or electricity and is quite a distance from town. She says she selfishly gets to see the good she is doing. She has no children and wants her money to be put to good.
Susan tells us it is very difficult to get the truth out of a Kenyan. She volunteers for an education foundation that grants scholarships to needy girls. One girl she interviewed, 13 years old, told her that she was a total orphan. She was granted a scholarship and when Susan followed up she found out that the girl had two parents, who were both teachers. She withdrew the scholarship. The parents were furious and the girl heartbroken. Had she told the truth, she likely would have qualified as teachers here make very little money.
Tomorrow Susan is taking us with her to meet three of the families of students she has sponsored. This will be our first introduction to rural Kenya. We have so much to learn.
It's 11pm and the sound of music is coming from the streets. More Obama celebration I think. We were given a ride home from the Sheywey house tonight which is only a block away. No one takes a chance walking at night. It seemed a bit excessive as we only passed two or three Kenyans walking down the street. Our driver brought us right to our gate and was about to get out and open the gate so he could drive us right in to our compound. "No, no, we'll be o.k." He waited until we were in the house. As we were unlocking the pad lock on our iron gate, the night watchman, billy club in hand, came to introduce himself. We have many guards and caretakers here and go to sleep with the soft glare of the security lights filtering through the windows.
Some things are hard to get used to.
Terry woke up at his usual 4:30am and when he came back to bed around 6:30, I laid in bed listening to the birds singing, roosters crowing and dogs barking. The evening sounds are frogs, crickets, more birds and more dogs. Oh, was that a cow I just heard.
We had an easy start to the day, sitting in our yard overlooking the hills reading. The sound of drums and singing filled the air. Later we found out that was in celebration of Barack Obama day. We have had many days like this in our own backyard at home (sans drums of course). Only today, we are in Africa. We are still waiting for someone to yell, "Cut" and for the cameras to stop rolling.
We've just come from a bit of a party at the Sheywey Guesthouse where Mizungus and Kenyans gathered to have dinner and watch the inauguration of Barock Obama. I felt chills when it dawned on me that here I am in Kenya watching the first African American being sworn in to the office of the President of the United States. Amazing.
Speaking of amazing, this afternoon we met with Susan Thompson, whom Terry has been corresponding with for a few months. Susan is from the Yukon and has been coming to Kakamega since 2004. She has personally sponsored 10 or 15 students. When I say sponsored, I am not referring to sending $30 a month to an NGO like World Vision or Plan, I mean, she has met the students, visited their homes, has a relationship with their parents and has personally put them through school. Today she had a young man, Duncan, with her. Her brother, whom she is sending to university, is a good friend. Today she and Duncan were laden with bags from the shopping trip to purchase his school supplies, uniform and shoes. Duncan is 18 and in Form 2, grade 9.
We walked together to Susan's home on the other side of town. She has such an easy way about her and smiles and jokes with the Kenyans we meet on the way. Terry has commented several times how much like India this is. Dusty streets, market stands on the side of the road, the streets crowded with men walking, women with babies on their back or carrying bundles, baskets or water on their heads, boda bodas EVERYWHERE. It still feels surreal.
For the two months she is here, Susan is living in a small apartment for which she pays $100/month and includes her water and electricity. Our three bedroom "estate" is $400/month, water and electricity extra. Hers is definitely the real deal, with the sounds of children playing, dogs, and life happening right outside her door. She has neighbours that sweep her front porch for her and all of her neighbours are Kenyans – they take good care of me she says.
She has fish farm projects and is waiting on approval for a grant to provide training to the farmers – not only in how to dig a pond and the mechanics of fish farming, but in project management and most importantly working as a team. Working as a cooperative is a foreign concept to them. As an example, Susan told us that she had purchased some piping (again with her own money) and given it to one farmer to take to the cooperative and share it among the members. Later, she asked him if he had distributed the pipes, to which he answered, "No, I think I need it all."
She has also had the same trouble with the textile school she started (yes, again with her own financing… she really hopes her grant comes through soon!). She had purchased sewing machines for her school and then gone back to Canada. 8 months later when she came back the machines had been taken to a private home. Susan drove out to the home and took the machines back, while the mother cried and yelled. She says they get very angry at her. They are not used to mizungus coming back to check up on them.
Susan told us there are 23 mizungus (white people) in town including us. Kakamega has a population of close to a million, so we are definitely the minority. 12 of the 23 were at the inauguration party tonight.
Susan has hired a young man to work with her. She had put him through school and now pays him a daily rate to assist her with her projects. When she comes back to Canada, Hussein and his girlfriend will live in her apartment which is much better than their present situation. Where they are now has no running water or electricity and is quite a distance from town. She says she selfishly gets to see the good she is doing. She has no children and wants her money to be put to good.
Susan tells us it is very difficult to get the truth out of a Kenyan. She volunteers for an education foundation that grants scholarships to needy girls. One girl she interviewed, 13 years old, told her that she was a total orphan. She was granted a scholarship and when Susan followed up she found out that the girl had two parents, who were both teachers. She withdrew the scholarship. The parents were furious and the girl heartbroken. Had she told the truth, she likely would have qualified as teachers here make very little money.
Tomorrow Susan is taking us with her to meet three of the families of students she has sponsored. This will be our first introduction to rural Kenya. We have so much to learn.
It's 11pm and the sound of music is coming from the streets. More Obama celebration I think. We were given a ride home from the Sheywey house tonight which is only a block away. No one takes a chance walking at night. It seemed a bit excessive as we only passed two or three Kenyans walking down the street. Our driver brought us right to our gate and was about to get out and open the gate so he could drive us right in to our compound. "No, no, we'll be o.k." He waited until we were in the house. As we were unlocking the pad lock on our iron gate, the night watchman, billy club in hand, came to introduce himself. We have many guards and caretakers here and go to sleep with the soft glare of the security lights filtering through the windows.
Some things are hard to get used to.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
visit Tailoring school in the stix
this is going to be short due to superslow connection. we are having an awesome time. my fish farm lady connection susan thompson also has started a tailor school. we went there to day via a INSANE mini bus ride to the boonies[our driver only stopped for pasengers on downslopes so the van would keep running, he was the same tribe of the police, Kukuyo, that do roadchecks for unsafe vehicles so he is able to stay on the road without paying bribes]. beside us were ladies holding live chickens. i was in the front seat and freakin out- i thought new delhi would have seasoned me, nope, i was sure we were going over or committing vehicular homicide several times in a 60 minute ride through country roads lined with sugar cane fields. sweet.
when we got there the meeting started with a prayer and all the parents and kids singing. brought a tear to the eye as each parent and each kid stood to say how much the school meant to them. once again we felt like we were in a movie. we were honoured guests and each asked to speak.
tommorrow we visit the principle of misingu high school hopefully. this is the boarding school where my Rotary club sponsors 8 boys- we pay all their fees as long as they remain top dogs in their class. On friday I tour the fish farms. had a good long talk with the chair of the fish farm association today. talked shop and gave him a copy of world aquaculture mag article that features Kenya.
last night the town of 1 million partied hardy in the name of Obama the great.
we have heard soo many stories but have kept our (and some of your) money in our pocket until we get a good idea where to get the biggest bang for the buck. We will be visiting the Friends orphanage on behalf of Valley View in a few days.
the desk project is going well. we decided to spring a little extra to give each desk a shelf. each desk sits 2 or 3 kids. its amazing to see the little hole in wall that produces them- sans power tools. imaging making 2x4's with a handsaw.
sorry for typos, i'll leave it to Tanya to put together an eloquent description. that girl can type. if anyone has money burning a hole in your pocket let us know and we'll spend it on a good cause for you- there is no shortage and we have several friends here that can assure things stay on track after we leave. just pledge it and we'll get it from you on our return. im more interested in loaning it out than giving it away- so you MIGHT get it back if we can figure out a good system.
Did i ever say I was scared of coming here? pshaw, its freakin fantastic.
when we got there the meeting started with a prayer and all the parents and kids singing. brought a tear to the eye as each parent and each kid stood to say how much the school meant to them. once again we felt like we were in a movie. we were honoured guests and each asked to speak.
tommorrow we visit the principle of misingu high school hopefully. this is the boarding school where my Rotary club sponsors 8 boys- we pay all their fees as long as they remain top dogs in their class. On friday I tour the fish farms. had a good long talk with the chair of the fish farm association today. talked shop and gave him a copy of world aquaculture mag article that features Kenya.
last night the town of 1 million partied hardy in the name of Obama the great.
we have heard soo many stories but have kept our (and some of your) money in our pocket until we get a good idea where to get the biggest bang for the buck. We will be visiting the Friends orphanage on behalf of Valley View in a few days.
the desk project is going well. we decided to spring a little extra to give each desk a shelf. each desk sits 2 or 3 kids. its amazing to see the little hole in wall that produces them- sans power tools. imaging making 2x4's with a handsaw.
sorry for typos, i'll leave it to Tanya to put together an eloquent description. that girl can type. if anyone has money burning a hole in your pocket let us know and we'll spend it on a good cause for you- there is no shortage and we have several friends here that can assure things stay on track after we leave. just pledge it and we'll get it from you on our return. im more interested in loaning it out than giving it away- so you MIGHT get it back if we can figure out a good system.
Did i ever say I was scared of coming here? pshaw, its freakin fantastic.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Boda Boda
My posts are a day behind as the internet cafes are so slow that I type at home on the laptop and then just cut and paste when we come to town. 20 minutes just to load a page a do one post. So, I'm afraid there'll be no pics until we get home...
Good day today. I woke up at 7:30am after my first good nights sleep. I think I am finally adjusting to the time change (we are 11 hours ahead). Had a nice easy morning and then headed to the Daisy School to meet the Principal. This is the school that we are having the desks built for. There are about 250 students at the school – 100 board there and of them about 20 are handicapped. Handicapped includes physical, mental, and social disabilities. Total orphans (children who have lost both parents) are also considered handicapped.
Today was the first day of the teacher’s strike. “There is no learning in Kenya,” said Canon Ndungah, “and when there is no school, there is no work.” Teachers here are grossly underpaid. Starting salary for a teacher is 7,000 Ksh (about $125/month), average earn about 15,000 Ksh and top at about 30,000 Ksh ($535/month). This is before taxes which are 40%. Policemen earn about 90,000Ksh/month and have no post secondary education. There is outrage here that the government spent, I’ll say millions (but I’m really not sure) to sent 11 officials to the United States to meet Obama and teachers are paid a peasants wages.
Due to the strike, the Principal had lots of time to spend with us. He gave us a tour of the school – it is exactly like what is depicted in the UNICEF pictures. Rectangular buildings, cement floors, very dinghy, just a few desks strewn haphazardly around. We will post pictures.
Canon Ndungah was delightful. He spoke with great pride about Obama, “started as a bundle on his grandmother’s back and now is the President – anything is possible.” He spoke of the suffering of Kenyans and the corruption in the government. He asked for our impression of Kenyans, besides corruption. The corruption is from the top, he said, on the ground are good people. We told him about our run in with the lost boys and he picked up his cell phone as we were talking and called his friend who is with the police. “You must clean up the street, my brother.”
Emily, the lovely secretary with beautiful white teeth and a lavender dress, served us soda and fried bread balls. She held a wash basin for us and poured water on our hands while saying a blessing. We also met Alfred who is the Deputy (Vice Principal). We saw him later in the street and he met us with a handshake (everybody shakes hands as a greeting) and a big smile. He says that he is so grateful for anyone that helps the special students. They provide his livelihood so he loves them.
Next we had a great visit with Williamson Odoyo who is the furniture maker building the school desks. Everyone takes much time to talk. He invited us into his office at the back of his shop where we sat and talked about the desks, his business, the economy and family. He has been in business for 17 years and has a good reputation. Business slows down a lot in April because people have little money. There are no crops by the end of the dry season (February) and the new crops haven’t yet matured.
Next events of our day included: Police station – dilapidated furniture, standing there waiting, but not telling us what we are waiting for, officer says took advantage of us because we are new, Grocery store, Cyber café, Market
Paul, our friend from the Market, called three Boda Bodas for us and told them not to take advantage, do not over charge. I couldn’t keep from smiling. Talk about out of the movies. Boda bodas are everywhere. Bikes with wide seats on the back. Basically you are getting a double. People found this very funny and were laughing and calling Mizungu (white guy). It was 20 bob (about 35 cents) each for the lift home. Helluva deal.
Soon cold showers and boda bodas will seem normal.
Terry and I went for a short jog when we got home. Alinda had told us that the Kenyans would not be used to seeing a woman running so it is a good idea for me to stay with Terry. It was a spectacular run, in the hills past goats and cows, men dressed in suits (everyone is very well dressed here) walking on a path up through fields to their home in the hills with no electricity. A group of children were laughing and calling after us “Mizungu”. I was having a hard time breathing and it was getting a little late. I was worried about mosquitoes (there are virtually no mosquitoes right now because it has been so dry) and about being out after dark, so I asked Terry to take me home. I’m sure I’ll relax more in a few more days.
My comfort zone is expanding every day.
Good day today. I woke up at 7:30am after my first good nights sleep. I think I am finally adjusting to the time change (we are 11 hours ahead). Had a nice easy morning and then headed to the Daisy School to meet the Principal. This is the school that we are having the desks built for. There are about 250 students at the school – 100 board there and of them about 20 are handicapped. Handicapped includes physical, mental, and social disabilities. Total orphans (children who have lost both parents) are also considered handicapped.
Today was the first day of the teacher’s strike. “There is no learning in Kenya,” said Canon Ndungah, “and when there is no school, there is no work.” Teachers here are grossly underpaid. Starting salary for a teacher is 7,000 Ksh (about $125/month), average earn about 15,000 Ksh and top at about 30,000 Ksh ($535/month). This is before taxes which are 40%. Policemen earn about 90,000Ksh/month and have no post secondary education. There is outrage here that the government spent, I’ll say millions (but I’m really not sure) to sent 11 officials to the United States to meet Obama and teachers are paid a peasants wages.
Due to the strike, the Principal had lots of time to spend with us. He gave us a tour of the school – it is exactly like what is depicted in the UNICEF pictures. Rectangular buildings, cement floors, very dinghy, just a few desks strewn haphazardly around. We will post pictures.
Canon Ndungah was delightful. He spoke with great pride about Obama, “started as a bundle on his grandmother’s back and now is the President – anything is possible.” He spoke of the suffering of Kenyans and the corruption in the government. He asked for our impression of Kenyans, besides corruption. The corruption is from the top, he said, on the ground are good people. We told him about our run in with the lost boys and he picked up his cell phone as we were talking and called his friend who is with the police. “You must clean up the street, my brother.”
Emily, the lovely secretary with beautiful white teeth and a lavender dress, served us soda and fried bread balls. She held a wash basin for us and poured water on our hands while saying a blessing. We also met Alfred who is the Deputy (Vice Principal). We saw him later in the street and he met us with a handshake (everybody shakes hands as a greeting) and a big smile. He says that he is so grateful for anyone that helps the special students. They provide his livelihood so he loves them.
Next we had a great visit with Williamson Odoyo who is the furniture maker building the school desks. Everyone takes much time to talk. He invited us into his office at the back of his shop where we sat and talked about the desks, his business, the economy and family. He has been in business for 17 years and has a good reputation. Business slows down a lot in April because people have little money. There are no crops by the end of the dry season (February) and the new crops haven’t yet matured.
Next events of our day included: Police station – dilapidated furniture, standing there waiting, but not telling us what we are waiting for, officer says took advantage of us because we are new, Grocery store, Cyber café, Market
Paul, our friend from the Market, called three Boda Bodas for us and told them not to take advantage, do not over charge. I couldn’t keep from smiling. Talk about out of the movies. Boda bodas are everywhere. Bikes with wide seats on the back. Basically you are getting a double. People found this very funny and were laughing and calling Mizungu (white guy). It was 20 bob (about 35 cents) each for the lift home. Helluva deal.
Soon cold showers and boda bodas will seem normal.
Terry and I went for a short jog when we got home. Alinda had told us that the Kenyans would not be used to seeing a woman running so it is a good idea for me to stay with Terry. It was a spectacular run, in the hills past goats and cows, men dressed in suits (everyone is very well dressed here) walking on a path up through fields to their home in the hills with no electricity. A group of children were laughing and calling after us “Mizungu”. I was having a hard time breathing and it was getting a little late. I was worried about mosquitoes (there are virtually no mosquitoes right now because it has been so dry) and about being out after dark, so I asked Terry to take me home. I’m sure I’ll relax more in a few more days.
My comfort zone is expanding every day.
Monday, January 19, 2009
Jan 18th, Lost Boys
January 18, 2009
I woke up around 4:10am and thought about snoozing until 4:40am when the alarm was set, but remembered some things from the previous day – the preacher on the bus – and wanted to get it down. Right now, for the first time since we’ve arrived in Africa, I would rather forget.
We left Nairobi to fly to Kisumu for our 7:00am flight. I was worried about being over weight on luggage, but we had no problems. In the airport waiting for our flight a young guy from London sat down next to me and chatted up a storm which passed the hour quite nicely. He was on his way to a village that his former high school supports. He is for three months with cash and shopping list in hand. He was quite a character, self admittedly self absorbed. He had that same naïve sparkle in his eyes that I must have had before today.
The drive from Kisumu to Kakamega was so beautiful. We felt like we were in a movie. The road we took is unofficially called the Chinese Highway. I can write about this later. Right now I feel a need to try and make sense of this.
Alinda took us on a walk to the market, not far at all from our house. We got a few “How are you”s and “Mizungu”s (white person) and “Help me for 5 bob.” We passed a boy, no older than 11 with a little bottle hanging from his mouth and vacant eyes. Alinda said they call them the lost boys. One touched my arm and startled me as we passed. Alinda told me I had nothing to be scared of. They won’t touch you. One did touch me on the arm I said, to which she replied that was very unusual. Don’t under any circumstances give them money or you will never get rid of them. She said sometimes she might give them a banana, but there were so many today that you could never satisfy them. So, just keep walking. We need to talk to her more because when we were walking back on our own, (Terry, Cody and I – no Alinda), The same boy that touched me the first time was putting his hand out and walking along side of me. And then there were more of them, maybe 6. They were touching Terry’s grocery bag, pulling on the top of the pineapple. “No touch” Terry was saying. Then they were pinching my arm, pretty hard. It didn’t hurt, but was really creepy. I asked Cody and Terry to put me between them, but they had their hands full too. Two boys were on either side of Cody, giggling (in a creepy way, not a sweet little kid way), pulling on his arms. Cody, always full of compassion said they wanted to walk with him. When one of them rubbed my bum and laughed my stomach turned and I felt … angry? Scared? Sick? I flicked my arms to get them off me, and one kept running his finger up my bum. It was so disturbing. There was a well dressed couple with a little girl ahead of us and I walked a little faster feeling that if we were near them we would be left alone. We didn’t know where we went wrong. Terry was saying “No touch. Not today.” I tried “Go away.” Cody wasn’t really talking, just walking and telling me to chill. I said, Terry o.k., now I’m scared. He said, I’ve got my own little buggers to deal with. They only followed us for a block or so. I’m not sure what got rid of them.
I told Terry he’s going to have to step into the man role as protector. Alinda told me to walk close to my son if they hassle me. As a women, I will notice what a male society this is.
Cody is the keeper of the keys and when we got home he unlocked the padlock to the iron gate on to our porch and then locked it behind us. “I don’t think we need to lock it when we’re home, Code.” “We may as well,” he casually replied. When we got in, I sat down at the table and said that we need to be sure to talk about things like this. This could be only the start of the disturbing things we see. Terry made a joke that he could just bottle it all up inside, that works too.
Cody went to read, Terry turned on the tv… what was that black sit come from the ‘70s with JJ and Velma? Or is it Thelma? When The Jeffersons came on Terry turned off the tv and went to have a nap. I was cleaning. My arms were covered in black smears from the boys grabbing me. I boiled water and wiped a hot washcloth over my face neck and arms. I disinfected the counter tops and cleaned all our fruit. I was trying to wash the sick feeling away.
I told Cody that I couldn’t shake it. And he said, “Yeah it was messed.” Terry said he didn’t know if he was allowed to hit them. “That’s not the way to deal with it, obviously that won’t work.” God, I love this kid.
We played a couple of hands of rummy and three games of Yatzee as a distraction. Now Cody has gone to read, Terry is up from his nap and out for a run. And I am here, getting it out.
These are little boys. I am somewhat ashamed to say that I am more angry and heartbroken. This is fucked. I’ve heard so many North American heroes say, “They may not have anything, but they are so happy.” What a line of shit. I know I will see that in time. It’s just so wrong. How can these little boys just be left to destroy their brains and …
My closet full of soccer balls and pencils seem so… empty. Naïve. Pathetic. That’s the word I was looking for.
The bird songs are beautiful.
Our house is great.
We have two local allies – Paul from the market will tell us the fair price for fruit and Jeremiah will be our guide, driver and advisor for places to go and fares to expect.
Paul works at the market from 6:00am to 8:00pm everyday. Jeremiah owns the African Tour Cafe (pronounced caf, not café). We had an impromptu lunch with Jeremiah today and tried our first African fare. I had chippati (flat bread cut into small squares) with vegetables (cabbage and another local crispy green) and a dipping sauce. It was quite tasty actually. Terry tried the ugali which is made from maize. It tasted like mashed potatoes to me. Cody had two beef simosas – he said the first one was good, the second a little dry.
Alinda pointed out how docile the babies are here. Basically their lives are spent on their mom’s back sitting on the ground in the market hawking vegetables.
I woke up around 4:10am and thought about snoozing until 4:40am when the alarm was set, but remembered some things from the previous day – the preacher on the bus – and wanted to get it down. Right now, for the first time since we’ve arrived in Africa, I would rather forget.
We left Nairobi to fly to Kisumu for our 7:00am flight. I was worried about being over weight on luggage, but we had no problems. In the airport waiting for our flight a young guy from London sat down next to me and chatted up a storm which passed the hour quite nicely. He was on his way to a village that his former high school supports. He is for three months with cash and shopping list in hand. He was quite a character, self admittedly self absorbed. He had that same naïve sparkle in his eyes that I must have had before today.
The drive from Kisumu to Kakamega was so beautiful. We felt like we were in a movie. The road we took is unofficially called the Chinese Highway. I can write about this later. Right now I feel a need to try and make sense of this.
Alinda took us on a walk to the market, not far at all from our house. We got a few “How are you”s and “Mizungu”s (white person) and “Help me for 5 bob.” We passed a boy, no older than 11 with a little bottle hanging from his mouth and vacant eyes. Alinda said they call them the lost boys. One touched my arm and startled me as we passed. Alinda told me I had nothing to be scared of. They won’t touch you. One did touch me on the arm I said, to which she replied that was very unusual. Don’t under any circumstances give them money or you will never get rid of them. She said sometimes she might give them a banana, but there were so many today that you could never satisfy them. So, just keep walking. We need to talk to her more because when we were walking back on our own, (Terry, Cody and I – no Alinda), The same boy that touched me the first time was putting his hand out and walking along side of me. And then there were more of them, maybe 6. They were touching Terry’s grocery bag, pulling on the top of the pineapple. “No touch” Terry was saying. Then they were pinching my arm, pretty hard. It didn’t hurt, but was really creepy. I asked Cody and Terry to put me between them, but they had their hands full too. Two boys were on either side of Cody, giggling (in a creepy way, not a sweet little kid way), pulling on his arms. Cody, always full of compassion said they wanted to walk with him. When one of them rubbed my bum and laughed my stomach turned and I felt … angry? Scared? Sick? I flicked my arms to get them off me, and one kept running his finger up my bum. It was so disturbing. There was a well dressed couple with a little girl ahead of us and I walked a little faster feeling that if we were near them we would be left alone. We didn’t know where we went wrong. Terry was saying “No touch. Not today.” I tried “Go away.” Cody wasn’t really talking, just walking and telling me to chill. I said, Terry o.k., now I’m scared. He said, I’ve got my own little buggers to deal with. They only followed us for a block or so. I’m not sure what got rid of them.
I told Terry he’s going to have to step into the man role as protector. Alinda told me to walk close to my son if they hassle me. As a women, I will notice what a male society this is.
Cody is the keeper of the keys and when we got home he unlocked the padlock to the iron gate on to our porch and then locked it behind us. “I don’t think we need to lock it when we’re home, Code.” “We may as well,” he casually replied. When we got in, I sat down at the table and said that we need to be sure to talk about things like this. This could be only the start of the disturbing things we see. Terry made a joke that he could just bottle it all up inside, that works too.
Cody went to read, Terry turned on the tv… what was that black sit come from the ‘70s with JJ and Velma? Or is it Thelma? When The Jeffersons came on Terry turned off the tv and went to have a nap. I was cleaning. My arms were covered in black smears from the boys grabbing me. I boiled water and wiped a hot washcloth over my face neck and arms. I disinfected the counter tops and cleaned all our fruit. I was trying to wash the sick feeling away.
I told Cody that I couldn’t shake it. And he said, “Yeah it was messed.” Terry said he didn’t know if he was allowed to hit them. “That’s not the way to deal with it, obviously that won’t work.” God, I love this kid.
We played a couple of hands of rummy and three games of Yatzee as a distraction. Now Cody has gone to read, Terry is up from his nap and out for a run. And I am here, getting it out.
These are little boys. I am somewhat ashamed to say that I am more angry and heartbroken. This is fucked. I’ve heard so many North American heroes say, “They may not have anything, but they are so happy.” What a line of shit. I know I will see that in time. It’s just so wrong. How can these little boys just be left to destroy their brains and …
My closet full of soccer balls and pencils seem so… empty. Naïve. Pathetic. That’s the word I was looking for.
The bird songs are beautiful.
Our house is great.
We have two local allies – Paul from the market will tell us the fair price for fruit and Jeremiah will be our guide, driver and advisor for places to go and fares to expect.
Paul works at the market from 6:00am to 8:00pm everyday. Jeremiah owns the African Tour Cafe (pronounced caf, not café). We had an impromptu lunch with Jeremiah today and tried our first African fare. I had chippati (flat bread cut into small squares) with vegetables (cabbage and another local crispy green) and a dipping sauce. It was quite tasty actually. Terry tried the ugali which is made from maize. It tasted like mashed potatoes to me. Cody had two beef simosas – he said the first one was good, the second a little dry.
Alinda pointed out how docile the babies are here. Basically their lives are spent on their mom’s back sitting on the ground in the market hawking vegetables.
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