Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Re-entry continues
April 7, 2009
I always knew that going to Africa would change my life forever, but I never understood how deeply. Everything I see, feel and hear now passes through the filter of my memories of Kenya. At times I am cynical and can't make any sense of the world, my career, spirituality, friendships, wants, needs, values...
I was in the kitchen today looking at my bowl of large, perfectly shaped oranges each with their very own sticker on them. As I peeled the stickers off that speckle my garden if I leave them on the peel when I compost them, I wondered if it is really necessary to label every single orange. Each time I am in Superstore staring at a sea of plastic looking, brightly painted produce and isles and isles of packages resembling something like food, I long for the Kakamega market. I miss seeing our friend and favourite vendor Paul and his wife Vanessa, meeting us with a warm handshake and asking how many pieces we want today, choosing each piece personally to make sure we get only the ripe ones, often throwing in a 'discount' or suggesting a melon or passionfruit to increase his sale.
I feel alone. People that I love and respect don't get it. They say things like, "it's all about balance," and I want to scream -- where is the balance in millions of people starving, oppressed, ignored. I am conflicted and probably most disappointed in myself because I am not doing all I can do to dive in and help. I'm selling a little jewelry and will send a few hundred dollars, maybe even a few thousand back and it will make a difference. But there is so much more to do.
I am having difficulty finding meaning in anything. Life coaching seems so trivial. I wonder if Josephine is worrying about dying "with her music still in her" as she is walking for water or worrying about her sick baby.
A lovely woman I know has just spent $12,000 having her teeth veneered. She says it is the first time she has ever done anything that is just for her. What are we missing that we need to gift ourselves with $12,000 worth of shiny white teeth? I wonder if it has given her the sense of love and meaning that humanity is so craving.
Oh, and please believe me, I am not pointing fingers. I am looking in the mirror. I picked up B12 drops for $24.50 yesterday and am taking my fish oil caplets daily in the hopes of stopping my hair from falling out. I'm still wearing Lulu Lemon and making Feng Shui adjustments in my home. I am grasping to goals and to do lists tightly so I can function and get out of bed in the morning.
I know my family wants me to shake it off and just be happy. I don't want to burden my friends with my broken heart and I certainly don't want to be a downer. I want to learn to speak about our experience in such a way that people are uplifted and moved to contribute. Even as I say this I am reminded about how many people followed our blog and have been moved by it. And have helped me to feel less alone. This is why I am writing now, just in case someone is still reading. It helps to get it out so that I can hopefully cease to be so paralyzed by the biggness of it all.
And I am happy much of the time. And so grateful for my life. We had such a wonderful time in Kenya. I'm so blessed to have been able to share this trip with Cody. We laughed every day, lounged in the sunshine, drank chai with friends, ooed and awed constantly at how beautiful the people, the sights and the sounds are. So sometimes I am confused by my own sense of grief. We kept our trip pretty darned light -- no medical clinics, no refugee camps, no starvation... just friends with no electricity or running water working hard to eek out something like a living against very tough circumstances.
We watched the movie MILK recently and I am reminded that Harvey Milk's movement for gay rights only fully came to life when he switched the focus of his speeches from oppression to hope. That is what people need; hope.
I feel moments of hope every time I sell another piece of Julius' jewelry, or put a two-nie in my mud bank to save for the tools Fredrick will need upon completing his carpentry training, or when people jump right in to donate to fill a pond with fingerlings for KASFOOC... oh, there is so much hope. I look at the picture of the children from the Head Start School and I find hope.
I always knew that going to Africa would change my life forever, but I never understood how deeply. Everything I see, feel and hear now passes through the filter of my memories of Kenya. At times I am cynical and can't make any sense of the world, my career, spirituality, friendships, wants, needs, values...
I was in the kitchen today looking at my bowl of large, perfectly shaped oranges each with their very own sticker on them. As I peeled the stickers off that speckle my garden if I leave them on the peel when I compost them, I wondered if it is really necessary to label every single orange. Each time I am in Superstore staring at a sea of plastic looking, brightly painted produce and isles and isles of packages resembling something like food, I long for the Kakamega market. I miss seeing our friend and favourite vendor Paul and his wife Vanessa, meeting us with a warm handshake and asking how many pieces we want today, choosing each piece personally to make sure we get only the ripe ones, often throwing in a 'discount' or suggesting a melon or passionfruit to increase his sale.
I feel alone. People that I love and respect don't get it. They say things like, "it's all about balance," and I want to scream -- where is the balance in millions of people starving, oppressed, ignored. I am conflicted and probably most disappointed in myself because I am not doing all I can do to dive in and help. I'm selling a little jewelry and will send a few hundred dollars, maybe even a few thousand back and it will make a difference. But there is so much more to do.
I am having difficulty finding meaning in anything. Life coaching seems so trivial. I wonder if Josephine is worrying about dying "with her music still in her" as she is walking for water or worrying about her sick baby.
A lovely woman I know has just spent $12,000 having her teeth veneered. She says it is the first time she has ever done anything that is just for her. What are we missing that we need to gift ourselves with $12,000 worth of shiny white teeth? I wonder if it has given her the sense of love and meaning that humanity is so craving.
Oh, and please believe me, I am not pointing fingers. I am looking in the mirror. I picked up B12 drops for $24.50 yesterday and am taking my fish oil caplets daily in the hopes of stopping my hair from falling out. I'm still wearing Lulu Lemon and making Feng Shui adjustments in my home. I am grasping to goals and to do lists tightly so I can function and get out of bed in the morning.
I know my family wants me to shake it off and just be happy. I don't want to burden my friends with my broken heart and I certainly don't want to be a downer. I want to learn to speak about our experience in such a way that people are uplifted and moved to contribute. Even as I say this I am reminded about how many people followed our blog and have been moved by it. And have helped me to feel less alone. This is why I am writing now, just in case someone is still reading. It helps to get it out so that I can hopefully cease to be so paralyzed by the biggness of it all.
And I am happy much of the time. And so grateful for my life. We had such a wonderful time in Kenya. I'm so blessed to have been able to share this trip with Cody. We laughed every day, lounged in the sunshine, drank chai with friends, ooed and awed constantly at how beautiful the people, the sights and the sounds are. So sometimes I am confused by my own sense of grief. We kept our trip pretty darned light -- no medical clinics, no refugee camps, no starvation... just friends with no electricity or running water working hard to eek out something like a living against very tough circumstances.
We watched the movie MILK recently and I am reminded that Harvey Milk's movement for gay rights only fully came to life when he switched the focus of his speeches from oppression to hope. That is what people need; hope.
I feel moments of hope every time I sell another piece of Julius' jewelry, or put a two-nie in my mud bank to save for the tools Fredrick will need upon completing his carpentry training, or when people jump right in to donate to fill a pond with fingerlings for KASFOOC... oh, there is so much hope. I look at the picture of the children from the Head Start School and I find hope.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Back in my world
March 23, 2009
I just re-read my initial re-entry blog entry. And, I must say, it is a pretty accurate reflection of how this transition has been. And still is.
I'm feeling lonely, like I left such a huge part of myself in Kenya. I have wonderful friends and family here reaching out and I am slowly thawing to their love and support. I've basically spent a week under a blanket eating chocolate. Monday I promised myself I would get busy and get on with life. I have revamped my resume, condensing myself to one page of skills, experience and accomplishments that I think someone might want to pay me for. I wonder if anyone would like to pay me to spend money in Kenya protecting springs, sending kids to school, training teachers and families on their strengths and virtues, providing hope... building latrines, equipping classrooms with text books, producing youth leadership workshops, providing seed money for micro finance enterprises, putting in fish farms for food sustainability, feeding orphans, sponsoring salaries for nurses, physiotherapists and teachers... oh, so much to do that means so much.
I brought back little fired mud piggy banks from the Kakamega market... each day as I put in a 2-nie I feel that much closer to my next trip.
I hope to have some pictures posted on facebook this week and we will be scheduling some presentations soon for those who would like to hear about our experience of Kenya and the organizations that are doing such good work.
Thanks for being with us on this journey. And please accept my apology in advance as I stumble my way back to my world in the West. I really am grateful for you all.
I just re-read my initial re-entry blog entry. And, I must say, it is a pretty accurate reflection of how this transition has been. And still is.
I'm feeling lonely, like I left such a huge part of myself in Kenya. I have wonderful friends and family here reaching out and I am slowly thawing to their love and support. I've basically spent a week under a blanket eating chocolate. Monday I promised myself I would get busy and get on with life. I have revamped my resume, condensing myself to one page of skills, experience and accomplishments that I think someone might want to pay me for. I wonder if anyone would like to pay me to spend money in Kenya protecting springs, sending kids to school, training teachers and families on their strengths and virtues, providing hope... building latrines, equipping classrooms with text books, producing youth leadership workshops, providing seed money for micro finance enterprises, putting in fish farms for food sustainability, feeding orphans, sponsoring salaries for nurses, physiotherapists and teachers... oh, so much to do that means so much.
I brought back little fired mud piggy banks from the Kakamega market... each day as I put in a 2-nie I feel that much closer to my next trip.
I hope to have some pictures posted on facebook this week and we will be scheduling some presentations soon for those who would like to hear about our experience of Kenya and the organizations that are doing such good work.
Thanks for being with us on this journey. And please accept my apology in advance as I stumble my way back to my world in the West. I really am grateful for you all.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Thank You
I just wanted to say thanks again for everyone that kicked in for our trip to Kenya. I am feeling good now,Tanya is still a bit shaken up, but we are both grateful. It is a real honour to be able to help people in need and those that contributed to this wedding present made it possible.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
So, how was your trip?
I've only had to answer this question once since we landed on Tuesday early evening, and thankfully, the person who asked had read the blog. Such an innocent question with no possible answer.
One of the things that is standing out so strongly is how tidy everything here is. I don't think I have seen one little kid since we landed. And there seem to be no people walking on the street... it's damned cold, so I guess that one kind of makes sense. Everything is tucked away nicely. We live in a world of boxes here, everything behind a wall, a window or a door. The shops are all indoors, there is no one selling goods on the street, or from a basket on their head, or running up to the cars and buses to offer a bag of plums, or perhaps some socks or peanuts or a flashlight or a calculator... in Kenya you can buy just about anything you can imagine out the window of your bus.
I was talking with a friend yesterday and she said that I should write down what I am feeling and noticing while the re-entry is so fresh... it's really powerful, she said. Powerful is not a word I could use to describe how I am feeling. Stunned is more like it. Getting off the plane and into my car was the most natural thing in the world and yet it blew my mind. Smooth roads, traffic lights, it's all so civilized. And I fit right in. Was I really bouncing around in overcrowded matatus barreling down dusty pothole ridden streets dodging cattle, bicycles and babies only a few hours ago?
We had a 10 hour layover in Amsterdam on our way home. Now there is a city of contradictions. Quaint, beautiful, historic, charming and seedy and desparate all at the same time. We visited the Ann Frank museum which was so... It really rattled me to know that we were not only looking at history. Ethnic cleansing is alive and well in this world. When will we learn?
The weather, the long flight and the contridictions of Amsterdam lead to a mini breakdown on the train back to the airport. Quietly crying looking out the window, I noticed that I didn't see Schipol Airport listed as one of the upcoming stops. Until the train pulled away FROM THE SCHIPOL STOP, that is. Damn, we missed our stop. And of course we hadn't left ourselves much of a window. The crying stopped and now it was toe tapping anxiety. It was pretty dicey, missing our plane was a real possibility. Especially because we seemed to be on an express train traveling efficiently AWAY from the airport. When the train eventually did stop we sprinted down the platform to catch a train going back from whence we had just come. The door closed seconds after we got on the train. Then, once in the airport we had to find the locker where we had stored our backpacks and race through the airport to our gate. We did make it as the plane was loading.
And here we are. And I would go back in a second. We've been trying to figure out what it is we loved about it. Because frankly, in and of itself, it's pretty unappealing. Sure it's sunny and warm and the tea fields are lush and green and beautiful. And the birds sing so sweetly and the kids are gorgeous. But the poverty and the dust and the touts are pretty in your face.
I think it is the feeling of usefulness and purpose all the self help books talk about. We made a difference there, however small. There is no end to the ways one can contribute there. At times we were paralyzed by the scope of the need... we would just shake our heads and say, "They're fucked." And then we would concentrate on building desks or learning about the needs of a widows group, or give a soccer ball to some kids. Fredrick's baby girl has a chance because of us. The boys at Musingu Highschool have a chance because of Terry's Rotary group. Julius can plant because of the jewelry that you bought.
So, my job is to do the best I can with what we have been given. Which is so so much. I slept last night under a down quilt and spent $70 on one meal for my family. And I have never wondered, even when I was a struggling young mom, whether my children were going to eat, or go to school.
I hope I can still have compassion for our Cadillac problems here in the west. I hope I can feel grateful, not guilty for all that we have here. I hope I don't become a self righteous do-gooder. And I hope that I don't ever forget and slide into apathy to protect my heart from completely breaking.
For now, I'm turning to toast and cheese, brownies and sudoku.
One of the things that is standing out so strongly is how tidy everything here is. I don't think I have seen one little kid since we landed. And there seem to be no people walking on the street... it's damned cold, so I guess that one kind of makes sense. Everything is tucked away nicely. We live in a world of boxes here, everything behind a wall, a window or a door. The shops are all indoors, there is no one selling goods on the street, or from a basket on their head, or running up to the cars and buses to offer a bag of plums, or perhaps some socks or peanuts or a flashlight or a calculator... in Kenya you can buy just about anything you can imagine out the window of your bus.
I was talking with a friend yesterday and she said that I should write down what I am feeling and noticing while the re-entry is so fresh... it's really powerful, she said. Powerful is not a word I could use to describe how I am feeling. Stunned is more like it. Getting off the plane and into my car was the most natural thing in the world and yet it blew my mind. Smooth roads, traffic lights, it's all so civilized. And I fit right in. Was I really bouncing around in overcrowded matatus barreling down dusty pothole ridden streets dodging cattle, bicycles and babies only a few hours ago?
We had a 10 hour layover in Amsterdam on our way home. Now there is a city of contradictions. Quaint, beautiful, historic, charming and seedy and desparate all at the same time. We visited the Ann Frank museum which was so... It really rattled me to know that we were not only looking at history. Ethnic cleansing is alive and well in this world. When will we learn?
The weather, the long flight and the contridictions of Amsterdam lead to a mini breakdown on the train back to the airport. Quietly crying looking out the window, I noticed that I didn't see Schipol Airport listed as one of the upcoming stops. Until the train pulled away FROM THE SCHIPOL STOP, that is. Damn, we missed our stop. And of course we hadn't left ourselves much of a window. The crying stopped and now it was toe tapping anxiety. It was pretty dicey, missing our plane was a real possibility. Especially because we seemed to be on an express train traveling efficiently AWAY from the airport. When the train eventually did stop we sprinted down the platform to catch a train going back from whence we had just come. The door closed seconds after we got on the train. Then, once in the airport we had to find the locker where we had stored our backpacks and race through the airport to our gate. We did make it as the plane was loading.
And here we are. And I would go back in a second. We've been trying to figure out what it is we loved about it. Because frankly, in and of itself, it's pretty unappealing. Sure it's sunny and warm and the tea fields are lush and green and beautiful. And the birds sing so sweetly and the kids are gorgeous. But the poverty and the dust and the touts are pretty in your face.
I think it is the feeling of usefulness and purpose all the self help books talk about. We made a difference there, however small. There is no end to the ways one can contribute there. At times we were paralyzed by the scope of the need... we would just shake our heads and say, "They're fucked." And then we would concentrate on building desks or learning about the needs of a widows group, or give a soccer ball to some kids. Fredrick's baby girl has a chance because of us. The boys at Musingu Highschool have a chance because of Terry's Rotary group. Julius can plant because of the jewelry that you bought.
So, my job is to do the best I can with what we have been given. Which is so so much. I slept last night under a down quilt and spent $70 on one meal for my family. And I have never wondered, even when I was a struggling young mom, whether my children were going to eat, or go to school.
I hope I can still have compassion for our Cadillac problems here in the west. I hope I can feel grateful, not guilty for all that we have here. I hope I don't become a self righteous do-gooder. And I hope that I don't ever forget and slide into apathy to protect my heart from completely breaking.
For now, I'm turning to toast and cheese, brownies and sudoku.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
I see white people
Its totally weird to be back. Cold, immaculate, sterile, empty streets, no colour, ridiculous wealth and landscaping. Amsterdam was the same.
I started with this blog after saying no to all my vaccine recomendations (as well as malaria and cepacol prescriptions etc)from our public health nurse with the exception of Yellow Fever. It turns out no one at any border asked us if we had had this shot. Another win for the pharmacy gods. Make vague threats about the neccesities of vaccines to boost sales. Total cost savings: $600.00. Plus I probably felt better and didnt get sick because I didnt take the drugs ie no drug side effect symptoms.
A week after getting the unnecessary vaccine I was sick with an aching body for four days. Turns out that after 2 months in Africa the only sickness I experienced (aside from a one day head cold) was from the side effects of the vaccine shot I got, but I didn't need. I will be going down to the public health nurse in Courtenay just to let them know they can stop falsely advising people that border guards are standing by to check your vaccine cards.
I guess Im talking about this because I feel so weird about all the other stuff. I don't know how to put it in words. Why am I sitting in totally luxury right now while a few friends of mine are living in abject poverty? Its easier just to talk about the stupidity and corruption of our drug addicted society.
I'm feeling weird. Similar to my trip back from India. Must be a bit like how war veterans feel. Not even much point in talking about stuff, it seems. People might just feel like I am trying to make them feel bad... I'll stop there, easier to just talk about the stupidity of drugs for now.
I started with this blog after saying no to all my vaccine recomendations (as well as malaria and cepacol prescriptions etc)from our public health nurse with the exception of Yellow Fever. It turns out no one at any border asked us if we had had this shot. Another win for the pharmacy gods. Make vague threats about the neccesities of vaccines to boost sales. Total cost savings: $600.00. Plus I probably felt better and didnt get sick because I didnt take the drugs ie no drug side effect symptoms.
A week after getting the unnecessary vaccine I was sick with an aching body for four days. Turns out that after 2 months in Africa the only sickness I experienced (aside from a one day head cold) was from the side effects of the vaccine shot I got, but I didn't need. I will be going down to the public health nurse in Courtenay just to let them know they can stop falsely advising people that border guards are standing by to check your vaccine cards.
I guess Im talking about this because I feel so weird about all the other stuff. I don't know how to put it in words. Why am I sitting in totally luxury right now while a few friends of mine are living in abject poverty? Its easier just to talk about the stupidity and corruption of our drug addicted society.
I'm feeling weird. Similar to my trip back from India. Must be a bit like how war veterans feel. Not even much point in talking about stuff, it seems. People might just feel like I am trying to make them feel bad... I'll stop there, easier to just talk about the stupidity of drugs for now.
Sunday, March 8, 2009
Last day in Kenya
I was happy this morning to receive a blog post from Cody! I know he has quite the fan base! His blog lightened my mood and has me overflowing with awe and gratitude for this trip. Thank you once again to everyone who has contributed in getting us here! I can't believe we're coming home today. Well, we are going to begin the long journey home... our flight leaves at 11pm, then 9 hours to Amsterdam, Steve Schut (our friend from Courtenay who is going to school in the Netherlands) is going to meet us in Amsterdam for a tour of some windmills, canals and quaint cafes. We'll have 10 hours or so in Amsterdam then a 9 or 10 hour flight home.
I can feel real life trying to bully its way into my brain. To do lists of taxes and bills and banking are dancing in my head -- I'm still managing to drown them out with images of Kenya. We've had nice texts and good bye phone calls from our new friends. Yesterday we met again with Joyce and Jackson in Kakamega. We gave them a very small gift (nice pen and a scarf)... we were saying that it is just something small and Joyce immediately cut me off in a very sincere voice saying, "We love them." I hope I can carry the Kenyan appreciation with me.
Time is ticking, but I don't feel any need to squeeze one last adventure in. I will be happy with a couple of hours by the pool at the YMCA here in Nairobi. I want to pick up a couple of books by African authors and we have a couple of short meetings to go to today. Oh and a cup of Kenyan coffee at the Java House -- there's no coffee to speak of in Kakamega... and even though I gave up coffee over 4 years ago, it is worth a small case of the jitters here as the Java House in Nairobi makes the best, richest, smoothest coffee I have ever tasted! We'll bring some home to share.
See you soon... we just may pop in to the blog again during our travels.
I can feel real life trying to bully its way into my brain. To do lists of taxes and bills and banking are dancing in my head -- I'm still managing to drown them out with images of Kenya. We've had nice texts and good bye phone calls from our new friends. Yesterday we met again with Joyce and Jackson in Kakamega. We gave them a very small gift (nice pen and a scarf)... we were saying that it is just something small and Joyce immediately cut me off in a very sincere voice saying, "We love them." I hope I can carry the Kenyan appreciation with me.
Time is ticking, but I don't feel any need to squeeze one last adventure in. I will be happy with a couple of hours by the pool at the YMCA here in Nairobi. I want to pick up a couple of books by African authors and we have a couple of short meetings to go to today. Oh and a cup of Kenyan coffee at the Java House -- there's no coffee to speak of in Kakamega... and even though I gave up coffee over 4 years ago, it is worth a small case of the jitters here as the Java House in Nairobi makes the best, richest, smoothest coffee I have ever tasted! We'll bring some home to share.
See you soon... we just may pop in to the blog again during our travels.
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