It’s Wednesday night and we are back in Nairobi after two nights at Sweetwaters. We remained captivated by the ever-changing animals at the water hole in front of the Sweetwaters tents– but also went on three journeys out into the preserve itself. Pictures are the only way to show you what we’ve seen (hopefully Frank will have those posted on Facebook by tomorrow!)… but here is a short recap:
· Incredible birds – from tiny yellow weaverbirds, to the iridescent blue “superb starlings”, to the black and white tail-wagger bird (that Meg called the zebra bird), to a completely homely (even ugly) stork that stood 3 feet high and repeatedly visited our dining table (sooo glad for the glass that separated us from him!)… tawny eagles – and more!
· Many, many giraffes (my favorite!)
· Gazelles (small - Thomson’s and large - Grant’s)
· Impalas, Elands, Bushboks… & other deer-like creatures whose names I don’t remember
· Cape Buffalo (very ugly and very aggressive)
· Rhinos (white & black varieties... almost prehistoric looking)
· Zebras, zebras, zebras
· Chimps & baboons! And so many with babies riding on their backs… we all wanted to take one home!
· Warthogs – my second favorite… and we saw dozens and dozens of them! Such a unattractive animal – sparse hair, legs too small for their bodies (reminds me of a bobble-doll the way the thick body rests atop the stick-like legs)…. And that is to say nothing of their faces. But the way they travel in lines, with their tails upright as they trot off in a cloud of dust is just hilarious. I love watching them!
· No lions…
· Our final sighting came as we rounded a sharp turn to head back to the tents – and found ourselves face-to-face with a huge, old elephant. Elephants are known to charge cars… so Julius calmly put the van in reverse and slowly backed away as the elephant continued to lumber forward. What a spectacular end to our Sweetwater journey!
We have all vowed to watch the Lion King movie when we get home…we have lived it these past two days!
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Sweetwaters
We were up early today (Monday) for the start of our journey home. After a nine hour drive – on every kind of road surface from lined highways to rocky & dusty dirt roads, we arrived at Sweetwaters, a camp at the foot of Mount Kenya… I am writing tonight from a tent less than 100 feet from a watering hole inside a game preserve. All that separates us from the open preserve is a small trench with a wire fence down inside the gulley, to give us a completely unrestricted view of everything in front of us…. And the sights have been breathtaking! We entered the area about five this evening and were still in sight of the main gate when we spotted our first giraffes! They are probably my favorite of all the wild animals – so stately, so silent. Julius, our driver, circled the van around after one giraffe crossed the road, so we had a perfect view of the giraffe silhouetted against Mount Kenya – what a picture, perfect for a postcard! We saw a number of other giraffes as we drove in, plus gazelles, wart hogs and countless beautiful birds (including Meg’s favorite, the superb starling – shaped like our black starling, but colored a bright, iridescent teal blue with an orange & white underbelly).
We quickly settled into our green canvas tents situated under the acacia trees – the tents have thatched roofs, comfortable furniture and HOT WATER (so we are only marginally “roughing it”). We then went to the lodge for a cup of tea before dinner. While we were having tea by a real fireplace (with the higher altitude, it’s quite chilly here), a staff member suggested we step outside to the watering hole – to see giraffes. And the sight was unbelievable – it was dark, but with the spotlight, it was easy to see twelve giraffes drinking from the watering hole less than 50 feet away. We watched in awe as they bent their long necks to drink. Back inside the lodge (only footsteps from the watering hole) we had a fabulous dinner – Frank even dared the fresh salads.
As the evening has progressed, a steady stream of animals has come to the water hole and then moved on – giraffes, zebras, wart hogs, gazelles… and about 11:30 two rhinos came by…twice one began to charge the other with bellows and pawing front feet. One rhino finally ran off into the dark and shortly thereafter the second walked the length of the tents facing the water hole and then faded into the blackness of night. We are in awe of the beauty and majesty what we have witnessed tonight.
We quickly settled into our green canvas tents situated under the acacia trees – the tents have thatched roofs, comfortable furniture and HOT WATER (so we are only marginally “roughing it”). We then went to the lodge for a cup of tea before dinner. While we were having tea by a real fireplace (with the higher altitude, it’s quite chilly here), a staff member suggested we step outside to the watering hole – to see giraffes. And the sight was unbelievable – it was dark, but with the spotlight, it was easy to see twelve giraffes drinking from the watering hole less than 50 feet away. We watched in awe as they bent their long necks to drink. Back inside the lodge (only footsteps from the watering hole) we had a fabulous dinner – Frank even dared the fresh salads.
As the evening has progressed, a steady stream of animals has come to the water hole and then moved on – giraffes, zebras, wart hogs, gazelles… and about 11:30 two rhinos came by…twice one began to charge the other with bellows and pawing front feet. One rhino finally ran off into the dark and shortly thereafter the second walked the length of the tents facing the water hole and then faded into the blackness of night. We are in awe of the beauty and majesty what we have witnessed tonight.
Flip Flops galore
Today was our last day at Reach-Out – but I must first update you on the Orange Palace (aka the Impala Resort) that has been our home while in Kisumu. Jeanne & Meg are sharing a bedroom that opens directly onto a community living room and Frank & I are in a room that opens directly from the other side. We’ve realized that the “living room” is not only used by hotel guests, but that it also serves as a hang-out for “locals”. Groups of men have gathered with beers to watch soccer matches on the TV in the room…. sometimes until late into the night. This morning we woke up to find a woman sleeping on the sofa there… and shortly afterward, a man joined her – and they had breakfast together, she had eggs; he had a Tusker beer (this was all before 8 am). Dogs in the next compound bark viciously and loudly at night. Meghan killed a two pound roach yesterday in her room – we were all in awe of her bravery. We have been approached by everyone on the staff for money (including the manager!). And as I write tonight, there are about 6 men in the room just outside our door drinking and watching TV. I can’t believe we have been in this place for five days.
So back to our day… we found the Kisumu church this morning – about 30 people who worship in a school building inside one of the slum areas on the south side of the city. As we have become so accustomed to, the people were wonderfully kind and welcoming. They sang some songs familiar to us, but also sang traditional songs, complete with drums, whistles and shouts – really wonderful to listen to, even though we could understand nothing.
In the travels to & from church, we passed through downtown Kisumu and saw a number of buildings that had been destroyed or damaged by the post-election violence last year. This was an area that had been particularly hard hit by the unrest and it sounds like the area is still ethnically unsettled in many ways.
Then to Reach-Out… the families had been told to come to the center on Sunday afternoon – and by the time we arrived shortly after noon, the compound was teeming with children. No school uniforms today – many were in “Sunday clothes”, some native dresses, other in dirty play clothes. We blew up four of our eight beach balls and Frank (ever the camp counselor), quickly had two large circles of children playing keep-away with double balls. I just loved the sounds of laughter and fun!
While the balls were in motion, Jeanne, Meg & I set out the flip flops in one of the classrooms – and generally grouped them by sizes. We had about 200 pairs to give away, plus just a dozen or so sneakers. We also bought “biscuits” (cookies) and soda for all the children. I’m not sure that was the best choice, nutritionally, but today was meant to be a day of fun & celebration and Hezekiah suggested it. When it became too hot to continue the ball games, we got out bottles and bottles of bubbles – again, so much fun! Once the flip flops, biscuits and sodas were in place, Isaac (who is among the first three Reach-Out orphans who graduated from Form 4 and will begin at the university in the fall) called out the households by name/number. In a somewhat orderly fashion, Meghan, Frank, Maureen (the social worker), and later Rachel (another Reach-Out orphan & graduate who will begin at a technical school this fall) helped each child find appropriate shoes… then Jeanne & Peggy took photos to update all our US records… and I passed out the biscuits, cut the tags off the shoes and sent the children back out the door.
The flip flop distribution took about three hours… after all the children in the Reach-Out community had been served, we still had a few pairs of shoes & lots of biscuits left, so we let some other children from outside the community into the room to select shoes. One little boy of about 7 or 8 came in with such a sad face…barefoot, so dusty and dirty, and with an odd outfit of threadbare and torn clothing. I found shoes for him, and then remembered we had a small amount of clothing we had planned to give Hezekiah for distribution at his discretion (since there was not enough for a general distribution). I found the little boy two shirts (including a red Georgia Bulldog shirt) and a pair of shorts, then gave him a double portion of biscuits. So sadly, he never smiled, never responded to a touch… and I was unable to get his name. I can only hope that he remembers Reach-Out as a place that welcomed & helped him and that he comes back again. He was such a lost little soul.
It was early evening when we made our last trip to Mama Grace’s house… this time to redeliver shoes (in correct sizes) and to give Mama Grace her new dress… and say our goodbyes. Lots of hugs and smiles as the girls put on their shoes, Mama Grace put on her new green dress (which she put on right over top of her current clothing). She mentioned something the day before about how old she was getting (finally learned yesterday that she is 75… ancient for this part of Africa). I was so glad that Frank reassured her that we would continue to look out after the girls – I know that eased her fears for their well-being after she was gone.
We said many, many goodbyes as evening approached… to Mama Grace and the girls, to all the secondary school girls (in their dorm), to the kitchen staff, to the headmaster of the primary school and to the principal of the secondary school, to Maureen & Isaac… and to Hezekiah. Four days – completely packed with children, visits, and planning for the future. A deeply rewarding and wonderfully satisfying time… we could have stayed so much longer – but what we had and did seemed just right.
From Reach-Out, we went for a quick view of Lake Victoria (at Kiboko Bay - the same place we went on our first trip, for those who were with us…) – a beautiful view of the lake and the big islands in the center… Uganda lay just beyond. We didn’t stay for dinner, but had drinks on an outside table and celebrated a great time at Reach-Out.
We should have ended the evening on that very positive note, but instead returned to the Impala Resort for dinner, which we had ordered that morning. Very marginal dinner on a number of fronts… and by the end we were in tears laughing at our stay here. In general, we decided that Africa isn’t for sissies… and for a final time, went to bed in our orange rooms with our orange bathing buckets – with all the men just outside our doors, watching TV.
So back to our day… we found the Kisumu church this morning – about 30 people who worship in a school building inside one of the slum areas on the south side of the city. As we have become so accustomed to, the people were wonderfully kind and welcoming. They sang some songs familiar to us, but also sang traditional songs, complete with drums, whistles and shouts – really wonderful to listen to, even though we could understand nothing.
In the travels to & from church, we passed through downtown Kisumu and saw a number of buildings that had been destroyed or damaged by the post-election violence last year. This was an area that had been particularly hard hit by the unrest and it sounds like the area is still ethnically unsettled in many ways.
Then to Reach-Out… the families had been told to come to the center on Sunday afternoon – and by the time we arrived shortly after noon, the compound was teeming with children. No school uniforms today – many were in “Sunday clothes”, some native dresses, other in dirty play clothes. We blew up four of our eight beach balls and Frank (ever the camp counselor), quickly had two large circles of children playing keep-away with double balls. I just loved the sounds of laughter and fun!
While the balls were in motion, Jeanne, Meg & I set out the flip flops in one of the classrooms – and generally grouped them by sizes. We had about 200 pairs to give away, plus just a dozen or so sneakers. We also bought “biscuits” (cookies) and soda for all the children. I’m not sure that was the best choice, nutritionally, but today was meant to be a day of fun & celebration and Hezekiah suggested it. When it became too hot to continue the ball games, we got out bottles and bottles of bubbles – again, so much fun! Once the flip flops, biscuits and sodas were in place, Isaac (who is among the first three Reach-Out orphans who graduated from Form 4 and will begin at the university in the fall) called out the households by name/number. In a somewhat orderly fashion, Meghan, Frank, Maureen (the social worker), and later Rachel (another Reach-Out orphan & graduate who will begin at a technical school this fall) helped each child find appropriate shoes… then Jeanne & Peggy took photos to update all our US records… and I passed out the biscuits, cut the tags off the shoes and sent the children back out the door.
The flip flop distribution took about three hours… after all the children in the Reach-Out community had been served, we still had a few pairs of shoes & lots of biscuits left, so we let some other children from outside the community into the room to select shoes. One little boy of about 7 or 8 came in with such a sad face…barefoot, so dusty and dirty, and with an odd outfit of threadbare and torn clothing. I found shoes for him, and then remembered we had a small amount of clothing we had planned to give Hezekiah for distribution at his discretion (since there was not enough for a general distribution). I found the little boy two shirts (including a red Georgia Bulldog shirt) and a pair of shorts, then gave him a double portion of biscuits. So sadly, he never smiled, never responded to a touch… and I was unable to get his name. I can only hope that he remembers Reach-Out as a place that welcomed & helped him and that he comes back again. He was such a lost little soul.
It was early evening when we made our last trip to Mama Grace’s house… this time to redeliver shoes (in correct sizes) and to give Mama Grace her new dress… and say our goodbyes. Lots of hugs and smiles as the girls put on their shoes, Mama Grace put on her new green dress (which she put on right over top of her current clothing). She mentioned something the day before about how old she was getting (finally learned yesterday that she is 75… ancient for this part of Africa). I was so glad that Frank reassured her that we would continue to look out after the girls – I know that eased her fears for their well-being after she was gone.
We said many, many goodbyes as evening approached… to Mama Grace and the girls, to all the secondary school girls (in their dorm), to the kitchen staff, to the headmaster of the primary school and to the principal of the secondary school, to Maureen & Isaac… and to Hezekiah. Four days – completely packed with children, visits, and planning for the future. A deeply rewarding and wonderfully satisfying time… we could have stayed so much longer – but what we had and did seemed just right.
From Reach-Out, we went for a quick view of Lake Victoria (at Kiboko Bay - the same place we went on our first trip, for those who were with us…) – a beautiful view of the lake and the big islands in the center… Uganda lay just beyond. We didn’t stay for dinner, but had drinks on an outside table and celebrated a great time at Reach-Out.
We should have ended the evening on that very positive note, but instead returned to the Impala Resort for dinner, which we had ordered that morning. Very marginal dinner on a number of fronts… and by the end we were in tears laughing at our stay here. In general, we decided that Africa isn’t for sissies… and for a final time, went to bed in our orange rooms with our orange bathing buckets – with all the men just outside our doors, watching TV.
A lottery winner in Kisumu
Our third day at Reach-Out – Saturday. Pam McQuide flew in from Nairobi this morning (where she is still unpacking boxes from her recent move there). The plan was to have a joint meeting of the US Advisory Board and the Kenyan Board of Directors for Reach-Out. The meeting involved Frank, Jeanne, Peggy, Pam and me plus the Kenyan board… Meghan had other plans for the day!
The advisory board meeting was long (about 4 hours), but such a valuable time. Hezekiah presented his strategic plan for 2010 – 2015… and he is indeed a visionary thinker. Overall, he dreams of a comprehensive program that supports not only the orphans of the Reach-Out community by meeting their short-term needs of food, school & safety… but he also envisions programs that continue to build the capacity of the community (for example, vocational training, an expanded farming program, making the school a true community center – and generating income by renting out the facilities to other community members).
I learned some things that made me so proud of the work that is going on… One of the board members is a teacher in a nearby primary school and said that the Reach-Out EDC (day care) children are often the highest area scorers on the admission test that every child must take prior to beginning primary school. Hezekiah explained that Reach-Out was one of the few day care centers that provided food for the children during their time in school. This not only helps the children stay alert and able to learn… it also is a motivation for attendance (they know they will have at least one meal for the day if they go to school). Hezekiah also described several families (including that of the director of national library sciences for Nyanza Province) who have asked to enroll their children at the Dr. El-Hefni School because of the low teacher-student ratio that Reach-Out maintains and because of the positive attitude of the students.
As a final decision for the day, the board made plans to use funding provided by our largest contributor to fully support the 6 Reach-Out students who are the first to finish high school at the Dr. El-Hefni School and be admitted into a university or to a technical school (3 will go to Moi University in Eldoret & 3 will go to a local polytechnic institute in Kisumu). We also discussed the establishment of a scholarship fund to begin planning for future graduates. Overall, a great meeting.
In follow-up to our meeting, Jeanne let Hezekiah know that she had found someone from the states to sponsor Yvonne (the butterfly), which will help pay for her secondary school fees. Yvonne’s reaction was poignant, heartfelt – and one of complete and unrestrained exuberance – you would have thought that she won the lottery… which in many ways, she had. Who would have thought a young, total orphan in rural Kenya could have been connected with a school administrator in Connecticut? ….her future changed in that moment. Yvonne literally jumped into Hezekiah’s arms, and then hugged everyone near her… and finally Jeanne, who had helped make the connection – with screams of thanks and tears of joy. It was a priceless moment for us all.
Meg’s Day (from Meghan herself):
While the adults were in their advisory meeting I spent the day in the “computer lab” (the lab is an empty room because they are waiting for electricity) with about eight or so of the high school girls. We started the time by teaching each other church songs. One song they tried to teach me was a song in Swahili that talked about building your foundation on Jesus and then I tried to teach them “This Little Light of Mine.” After church songs we got a little off track and started singing Celine Dion songs (they loved her) and “We Belong Together” by Mariah Carey. I couldn’t believe how many American songs they knew, but then they told me that they are able to watch MTV sometimes. Hopefully that show isn’t the only view they see of America. After a couple hours of singing songs they tried to get me to teach them salsa, but I had no idea what I was doing. Instead, I taught them all the Macarena. It was definitely fun to see about eight girls from Africa doing the Macarena with me.
After a couple hours of entertaining ourselves I had them sit down for a little counseling time. On top of a piece of paper I had them write a dream or goal they had for themselves or what career they would want for themselves. Most of the girls wrote “Journalism”, “Accounting” or “Lawyer.” On the next line I had each girl write how they were going to attain that goal like working hard in school and getting extra help on classes that were hard for them. Then we talked about some things that may hinder us from that goal. Most girls wrote about getting in the wrong crowd, they’re hard family pasts and things like drugs, alcohol and pregnancy. I talked to them about using a counselor and for using their pasts as stepping stones rather than stumbling blocks to their future. I then talked about ways to say “no” to peer pressure and about having different groups of friends so if you’re friends decide to do something that you don’t want to do you can always have another group of friends to be with. The biggest thing I talked to them about was using their dream or goal as I driving force, “I will study hard because I want to be an accountant” or “no, I will not do drugs because I want to be a lawyer.” It was amazing to see how the girls responded to the activity and I really think it at least made them think about their actions and their dreams.
Back to Mom:
The final stop of the day was back to Mama Grace’s home – to deliver the shoes. The stick-method of shopping did not serve us well. Only one of the four pairs of shoes we bought actually fit (and only because we gave Marguerite’s smaller sized shoes to Emily). Irene’s shoes were obviously too big, but she initially insisted they fit. Once we realized that she was fearful that if she gave the shoes up, she might not get anything back, we worked to ease her fears with a promise to return tomorrow with shoes that fit.
So we ended the day again at the Nakumatt… exchanging the shoes (how do you explain to someone who speaks only broken English that the shoes were dusty because they were tried on in a mud hut with a dirt floor… I still think he thought I was returning used shoes). A repeat dinner at the same “American style” restaurant we had eaten in the night before… and again, home to our orange beds and orange buckets of warm water…I am into double digits counting my days without a hot shower.
The advisory board meeting was long (about 4 hours), but such a valuable time. Hezekiah presented his strategic plan for 2010 – 2015… and he is indeed a visionary thinker. Overall, he dreams of a comprehensive program that supports not only the orphans of the Reach-Out community by meeting their short-term needs of food, school & safety… but he also envisions programs that continue to build the capacity of the community (for example, vocational training, an expanded farming program, making the school a true community center – and generating income by renting out the facilities to other community members).
I learned some things that made me so proud of the work that is going on… One of the board members is a teacher in a nearby primary school and said that the Reach-Out EDC (day care) children are often the highest area scorers on the admission test that every child must take prior to beginning primary school. Hezekiah explained that Reach-Out was one of the few day care centers that provided food for the children during their time in school. This not only helps the children stay alert and able to learn… it also is a motivation for attendance (they know they will have at least one meal for the day if they go to school). Hezekiah also described several families (including that of the director of national library sciences for Nyanza Province) who have asked to enroll their children at the Dr. El-Hefni School because of the low teacher-student ratio that Reach-Out maintains and because of the positive attitude of the students.
As a final decision for the day, the board made plans to use funding provided by our largest contributor to fully support the 6 Reach-Out students who are the first to finish high school at the Dr. El-Hefni School and be admitted into a university or to a technical school (3 will go to Moi University in Eldoret & 3 will go to a local polytechnic institute in Kisumu). We also discussed the establishment of a scholarship fund to begin planning for future graduates. Overall, a great meeting.
In follow-up to our meeting, Jeanne let Hezekiah know that she had found someone from the states to sponsor Yvonne (the butterfly), which will help pay for her secondary school fees. Yvonne’s reaction was poignant, heartfelt – and one of complete and unrestrained exuberance – you would have thought that she won the lottery… which in many ways, she had. Who would have thought a young, total orphan in rural Kenya could have been connected with a school administrator in Connecticut? ….her future changed in that moment. Yvonne literally jumped into Hezekiah’s arms, and then hugged everyone near her… and finally Jeanne, who had helped make the connection – with screams of thanks and tears of joy. It was a priceless moment for us all.
Meg’s Day (from Meghan herself):
While the adults were in their advisory meeting I spent the day in the “computer lab” (the lab is an empty room because they are waiting for electricity) with about eight or so of the high school girls. We started the time by teaching each other church songs. One song they tried to teach me was a song in Swahili that talked about building your foundation on Jesus and then I tried to teach them “This Little Light of Mine.” After church songs we got a little off track and started singing Celine Dion songs (they loved her) and “We Belong Together” by Mariah Carey. I couldn’t believe how many American songs they knew, but then they told me that they are able to watch MTV sometimes. Hopefully that show isn’t the only view they see of America. After a couple hours of singing songs they tried to get me to teach them salsa, but I had no idea what I was doing. Instead, I taught them all the Macarena. It was definitely fun to see about eight girls from Africa doing the Macarena with me.
After a couple hours of entertaining ourselves I had them sit down for a little counseling time. On top of a piece of paper I had them write a dream or goal they had for themselves or what career they would want for themselves. Most of the girls wrote “Journalism”, “Accounting” or “Lawyer.” On the next line I had each girl write how they were going to attain that goal like working hard in school and getting extra help on classes that were hard for them. Then we talked about some things that may hinder us from that goal. Most girls wrote about getting in the wrong crowd, they’re hard family pasts and things like drugs, alcohol and pregnancy. I talked to them about using a counselor and for using their pasts as stepping stones rather than stumbling blocks to their future. I then talked about ways to say “no” to peer pressure and about having different groups of friends so if you’re friends decide to do something that you don’t want to do you can always have another group of friends to be with. The biggest thing I talked to them about was using their dream or goal as I driving force, “I will study hard because I want to be an accountant” or “no, I will not do drugs because I want to be a lawyer.” It was amazing to see how the girls responded to the activity and I really think it at least made them think about their actions and their dreams.
Back to Mom:
The final stop of the day was back to Mama Grace’s home – to deliver the shoes. The stick-method of shopping did not serve us well. Only one of the four pairs of shoes we bought actually fit (and only because we gave Marguerite’s smaller sized shoes to Emily). Irene’s shoes were obviously too big, but she initially insisted they fit. Once we realized that she was fearful that if she gave the shoes up, she might not get anything back, we worked to ease her fears with a promise to return tomorrow with shoes that fit.
So we ended the day again at the Nakumatt… exchanging the shoes (how do you explain to someone who speaks only broken English that the shoes were dusty because they were tried on in a mud hut with a dirt floor… I still think he thought I was returning used shoes). A repeat dinner at the same “American style” restaurant we had eaten in the night before… and again, home to our orange beds and orange buckets of warm water…I am into double digits counting my days without a hot shower.
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Mama Grace and damask sheets?
Our second full day at Reach-Out! Meg & I did two more sessions of the “Great Child” program –another one with a second group of secondary students and one with a group of the primary students (all girls) – again, the responses were so positive and the “deputy head teacher” of the primary school joined us for the final session. She will begin pursuit of her masters in psych & early childhood development in the fall and was very interested in the program. She will take it to the other teachers and hopefully will continue to promote the development of a positive self-esteem among all the students.
Frank, Jeanne & Peggy spent the early part of the day planning their strategy for taking updated photos of all the Reach-Out children and documenting some more personal information – all to improve communication with their sponsors (or potential sponsors). Late in the afternoon (once primary children had completed school for the day), they went on a number of home visits with the help of Isaac & Maureen (who served as guides and translators).
Frank, Meg & I visited Mama Grace for the first time on Friday… she is such a beautiful, but weathered soul. Her skin is very dark and looks like shiny worn leather; her eyes are dimmed with age, but her smile and warm greeting is priceless. As on previous visits, she called me her daughter… the “last born in her home”. She is a tiny woman who has borne many burdens in her life, including the loss of her husband and children. But I’m sure she considers raising her two granddaughters and a third unrelated orphan girl, a joy and not a burden. Their home is a short walk outside the Reach-Out compound… by goats and a maize field… and past lots of curious barefooted children, some who look as young as six or seven carrying a still younger, often close-to-naked, sibling on their hips. Mama Grace’s home is only a mud and stick hut with a thatched roof and dirt floor, but it is filled with love – and inside there were beautiful new white chalk floral designs that covered the dark brown mud walls… we later learned they were Irene’s work. Really very beautiful! Emily and Marguerite were as transformed as Irene – both are in primary school now. I last remembered Marguerite (in 2006) as just bigger than a toddler wearing a dirty lace party dress (someone’s hand-me-down outfit, I’m sure)… she was sick, but let Kate hold her for the better part of a day. We finally got her to the clinic and with medicine she was much better by the second day – and quietly loyal to Kate for the rest of our visit. Today she was a healthy-looking, giggly little girl. Emily too was bright, expressive and looked so healthy! Mama Grace asked for glasses (which Meg had already purchased back in the US for her) and shoes… and it was readily apparent that the girls were sorely in need of shoes as well. We took sticks & broke them into lengths that matched their feet – and later that evening we went into the local Nakumatt with our sticks to buy shoes for everyone in the family. The man at the Nakumatt who helped us select the shoes didn’t seem surprised at all by the stick-shopping technique… maybe it’s a routine way to shop?
It was quite late when we finished shopping - nearly 9 – and we hadn’t had dinner yet… so found a small restaurant near the Nakumatt and what a surprise – it was almost “American” … we had pizza (not Brixx, but better than anything we’ve had thus far in Kisumu) – and the service was quick! We were so happy that we celebrated with ice cream for dessert!
Then back to our Orange Palace for a bath (in a bucket) and bed… oh, did I tell you? Last night our bottom sheet had a damask pattern on it… the top sheet & pillows didn’t match, which made me think we were likely sleeping on tablecloths….
Frank, Jeanne & Peggy spent the early part of the day planning their strategy for taking updated photos of all the Reach-Out children and documenting some more personal information – all to improve communication with their sponsors (or potential sponsors). Late in the afternoon (once primary children had completed school for the day), they went on a number of home visits with the help of Isaac & Maureen (who served as guides and translators).
Frank, Meg & I visited Mama Grace for the first time on Friday… she is such a beautiful, but weathered soul. Her skin is very dark and looks like shiny worn leather; her eyes are dimmed with age, but her smile and warm greeting is priceless. As on previous visits, she called me her daughter… the “last born in her home”. She is a tiny woman who has borne many burdens in her life, including the loss of her husband and children. But I’m sure she considers raising her two granddaughters and a third unrelated orphan girl, a joy and not a burden. Their home is a short walk outside the Reach-Out compound… by goats and a maize field… and past lots of curious barefooted children, some who look as young as six or seven carrying a still younger, often close-to-naked, sibling on their hips. Mama Grace’s home is only a mud and stick hut with a thatched roof and dirt floor, but it is filled with love – and inside there were beautiful new white chalk floral designs that covered the dark brown mud walls… we later learned they were Irene’s work. Really very beautiful! Emily and Marguerite were as transformed as Irene – both are in primary school now. I last remembered Marguerite (in 2006) as just bigger than a toddler wearing a dirty lace party dress (someone’s hand-me-down outfit, I’m sure)… she was sick, but let Kate hold her for the better part of a day. We finally got her to the clinic and with medicine she was much better by the second day – and quietly loyal to Kate for the rest of our visit. Today she was a healthy-looking, giggly little girl. Emily too was bright, expressive and looked so healthy! Mama Grace asked for glasses (which Meg had already purchased back in the US for her) and shoes… and it was readily apparent that the girls were sorely in need of shoes as well. We took sticks & broke them into lengths that matched their feet – and later that evening we went into the local Nakumatt with our sticks to buy shoes for everyone in the family. The man at the Nakumatt who helped us select the shoes didn’t seem surprised at all by the stick-shopping technique… maybe it’s a routine way to shop?
It was quite late when we finished shopping - nearly 9 – and we hadn’t had dinner yet… so found a small restaurant near the Nakumatt and what a surprise – it was almost “American” … we had pizza (not Brixx, but better than anything we’ve had thus far in Kisumu) – and the service was quick! We were so happy that we celebrated with ice cream for dessert!
Then back to our Orange Palace for a bath (in a bucket) and bed… oh, did I tell you? Last night our bottom sheet had a damask pattern on it… the top sheet & pillows didn’t match, which made me think we were likely sleeping on tablecloths….
Yvonne the butterfly
First day at Reach-Out!
We had an early breakfast at the Impala Resort – with a few glitches… Frank found bugs crawling out of his cereal (I was so glad I had opted out of cereal this morning!) and I was happy to have freshly-made mango juice, until I discovered there were ice slivers throughout the juice… frozen or liquid, you just can’t have water here… even more so than in Nairobi.
We arrived at Reach-Out by mid-morning. The drive once we turned off the main road was familiar, but the area had a cleaner, more vibrant feel to it! Many of the thatched roof homes now had roofs made of corrugated tin; lots of underbrush has been cleared out; and several of the block homes and the two schools along the way had a fresh coat of paint.
We arrived at Reach-Out and turned into the newly gated Dr El-Hefni Secondary (high) School – and were amazed by what we saw! The buildings were all painted green and blue. The administration building had a pretty entrance with flowers and papaya trees on either side of the doorway. There were two classroom wings and another wing with a library and computer room; a full science lab was in one of the classroom settings. Under construction were the dining hall (complete with a kitchen that had three huge built-in cooking pots) and a two-story dorm for the girls who will live on the school grounds. We got a tour of the campus and met the principal, many of the teachers and the new headmaster for the two primary classes that that been started at the school. While many of the orphans in primary school performed well and were able to continue into secondary school (9-12th grade), there were a number of others who did not score well enough to move into secondary school. Hezekiah feels very strongly that children (& girls in particular) must successfully complete at least primary school and he also feels that the failure of the orphans is a reflection of the multiple challenges they are experiencing in their lives and not the result of lack of effort or intelligence. Therefore, Reach-Out (Dr. El-Hefni Secondary School) is now offering classes 7 & 8 in an attempt to give these children a second chance to learn what they need to in order to pass the class 8 exam. I love Hezekiah’s philosophy of second chances!
On a side note, we were sure the new headmaster of the secondary school knew we were coming today – he had on a white suit and a tie with silver & black glitter threads, plus white shoes and a matching white derby hat – quite dapper!
After a complete school tour that took several hours, we had lunch in the library – various meat stews, rice, ugali, and cooked cabbage. The best part was that the principal invited several students to eat with us – the top students in each form. The students were bright, expressive, and articulate and each had such an inspiring story. I sat next to Yvonne who is in Form 3 (probably 17 years old)… she lost her father 4 years ago and her mother two years ago… then lost her brother. She is a total orphan who lives on the Reach-Out grounds. She is the top student in her Form – loves singing, dancing, math and wants to be an accountant. What animal would she like to be? a butterfly… because butterflies are beautiful and she wants to be able to fly – in life. This young woman has suffered so many losses in her young life, but was as bright and positive as a child could be. Over and over, she expressed her love for school and her appreciation for the Reach-Out program. Without it, she would be out of school and on the streets.
We spotted Irene today – one of the three girls we have supported since 2005. She was in a classroom that was on our “tour” – and smiled from ear to ear when we entered the room. She has gotten so tall and, speaking to her afterward, we could see that her personality has just blossomed! The sad-eyed, timid girl we had known on previous trips was bright and talkative… and couldn’t stop smiling! We planned with Irene to visit her at home tomorrow – to see her granny Mama Grace and her sisters Emily and Marguerite.
Meg and I did our first “You’re a Great Child…” session with 12 girls from the secondary school (3 girls from each of the 4 forms…the group included Yvonne) and were so excited by the enthusiastic participation. The program is designed to help children identify their inner strengths and what makes them unique and valuable as people, and to develop self-esteem and self-confidence. The theory behind it is that a child with a healthy self-esteem will be able to make better life choices, especially through the vulnerable teen years. The girls were so supportive of each other as we completed the various activities. In the animal game, one girl wanted to be a frog because “frogs are peacemakers and have no enemies” – the group said she was the next Kofi Annin! Another girl wanted to be a giraffe, so she could reach down and help others up and herself reach farther than she ever could imagine….a third girl wanted to be a strong and brave elephant, so no man could ever hurt or abuse her (I am guessing there was some painful history to that comment). At the end, one girl said her mother was her hero, but that she had never heard these kinds of encouraging words and had never been as happy as she was today. The day ended with lots of clapping, cheers and hugs.
Dinner was another new experience – the Whirlspring Inn… somehow we thought it was a place recommended by Pam… but later learned she had never heard of it. Food was ok… but it was another 2-3 hour dinner. We just can’t get used to Kenya timing. It’s a slower pace of life than anything we are used to…
We had an early breakfast at the Impala Resort – with a few glitches… Frank found bugs crawling out of his cereal (I was so glad I had opted out of cereal this morning!) and I was happy to have freshly-made mango juice, until I discovered there were ice slivers throughout the juice… frozen or liquid, you just can’t have water here… even more so than in Nairobi.
We arrived at Reach-Out by mid-morning. The drive once we turned off the main road was familiar, but the area had a cleaner, more vibrant feel to it! Many of the thatched roof homes now had roofs made of corrugated tin; lots of underbrush has been cleared out; and several of the block homes and the two schools along the way had a fresh coat of paint.
We arrived at Reach-Out and turned into the newly gated Dr El-Hefni Secondary (high) School – and were amazed by what we saw! The buildings were all painted green and blue. The administration building had a pretty entrance with flowers and papaya trees on either side of the doorway. There were two classroom wings and another wing with a library and computer room; a full science lab was in one of the classroom settings. Under construction were the dining hall (complete with a kitchen that had three huge built-in cooking pots) and a two-story dorm for the girls who will live on the school grounds. We got a tour of the campus and met the principal, many of the teachers and the new headmaster for the two primary classes that that been started at the school. While many of the orphans in primary school performed well and were able to continue into secondary school (9-12th grade), there were a number of others who did not score well enough to move into secondary school. Hezekiah feels very strongly that children (& girls in particular) must successfully complete at least primary school and he also feels that the failure of the orphans is a reflection of the multiple challenges they are experiencing in their lives and not the result of lack of effort or intelligence. Therefore, Reach-Out (Dr. El-Hefni Secondary School) is now offering classes 7 & 8 in an attempt to give these children a second chance to learn what they need to in order to pass the class 8 exam. I love Hezekiah’s philosophy of second chances!
On a side note, we were sure the new headmaster of the secondary school knew we were coming today – he had on a white suit and a tie with silver & black glitter threads, plus white shoes and a matching white derby hat – quite dapper!
After a complete school tour that took several hours, we had lunch in the library – various meat stews, rice, ugali, and cooked cabbage. The best part was that the principal invited several students to eat with us – the top students in each form. The students were bright, expressive, and articulate and each had such an inspiring story. I sat next to Yvonne who is in Form 3 (probably 17 years old)… she lost her father 4 years ago and her mother two years ago… then lost her brother. She is a total orphan who lives on the Reach-Out grounds. She is the top student in her Form – loves singing, dancing, math and wants to be an accountant. What animal would she like to be? a butterfly… because butterflies are beautiful and she wants to be able to fly – in life. This young woman has suffered so many losses in her young life, but was as bright and positive as a child could be. Over and over, she expressed her love for school and her appreciation for the Reach-Out program. Without it, she would be out of school and on the streets.
We spotted Irene today – one of the three girls we have supported since 2005. She was in a classroom that was on our “tour” – and smiled from ear to ear when we entered the room. She has gotten so tall and, speaking to her afterward, we could see that her personality has just blossomed! The sad-eyed, timid girl we had known on previous trips was bright and talkative… and couldn’t stop smiling! We planned with Irene to visit her at home tomorrow – to see her granny Mama Grace and her sisters Emily and Marguerite.
Meg and I did our first “You’re a Great Child…” session with 12 girls from the secondary school (3 girls from each of the 4 forms…the group included Yvonne) and were so excited by the enthusiastic participation. The program is designed to help children identify their inner strengths and what makes them unique and valuable as people, and to develop self-esteem and self-confidence. The theory behind it is that a child with a healthy self-esteem will be able to make better life choices, especially through the vulnerable teen years. The girls were so supportive of each other as we completed the various activities. In the animal game, one girl wanted to be a frog because “frogs are peacemakers and have no enemies” – the group said she was the next Kofi Annin! Another girl wanted to be a giraffe, so she could reach down and help others up and herself reach farther than she ever could imagine….a third girl wanted to be a strong and brave elephant, so no man could ever hurt or abuse her (I am guessing there was some painful history to that comment). At the end, one girl said her mother was her hero, but that she had never heard these kinds of encouraging words and had never been as happy as she was today. The day ended with lots of clapping, cheers and hugs.
Dinner was another new experience – the Whirlspring Inn… somehow we thought it was a place recommended by Pam… but later learned she had never heard of it. Food was ok… but it was another 2-3 hour dinner. We just can’t get used to Kenya timing. It’s a slower pace of life than anything we are used to…
To Kisumu!
Day one in Kisumu… the drive over was relatively easy. The roads are hundredfold improved from previous experiences – no more “Kenyan massage” over bumpy, bumpy roads… for the most part, the road was smooth. It is still remarkable to me however that the main road from Nairobi to Kisumu (the third largest city in Kenya) is a relatively narrow two lane road without any line markings for most of the trip. The drive took about seven hours, including an hour break for lunch. We took a northwest route out of Nairobi and passed many of the embassies who had chosen to locate outside the main downtown after the terrorist bombing that destroyed the US embassy in the late 1990’s. Lots of lush, beautiful scenery as we traveled west… and then we arrived at the Rift Valley – the huge meeting point for two tectonic plates that runs from central Russia all the way to Mozambique. We traveled on a narrow mountain road that looked down over a wide valley as far as the eye could see…it once was the sight of some highly active volcanoes, but all that remain now are silent volcanic craters the rise up from the valley floor. The last time we crossed the Rift Valley, it was green and grassy… the effects of the current drought were evident as much of the valley looked brown and dusty. In fact, we saw a number of whirlwinds of dust as we traveled through this area– narrow shafts of spinning dust that rose high into the air.
On the other side of the Rift Valley, we passed through dry, dry countryside with hardly a house or shop or person in sight. As we continued west, the grasses got greener; there were fields of maize and sugarcane, and beautiful bougainvillea in pinks, oranges and the deepest red you can imagine. We passed countless small villages and towns, each with colorful outdoor markets that lined the road, the standard “hotel & butchery” that Meghan spotted each time; tall, straight women with massive loads of sticks or produce or water balanced on their heads… and children everywhere, who seemed to love waving as the mzungu’s (white men) drove by.
We stopped around 2 for lunch at the Tea House in Kericho (those of you who remember last time… trouble with the bill… Frank broke his tooth on the lamb… he wanted to create a better memory, so we went back). I don’t think we have a better memory after this time either (very marginal food & sanitation) – but outside, the gardens were beautiful – so many flowers I didn’t recognize … and pink and red poinsettias 15 feet high! It was here that we again spotted the first monkeys of the trip – so playful as they scampered across the lawn of the Tea House and over the wall.
We arrived in Kisumu around five (recognized the turn-off to Reach-Out as we drove into town, but won’t go there until tomorrow) and met Hezekiah at the Nakumatt parking lot so he could direct us the Impala Resort, where we learned last night that we would be staying… St Anna’s had evidently double-booked three of our five nights, so Hezekiah made the decision to move us to a nearby place that wouldn’t require us to move after two days. I am not sure how I can tell you about this place. A walled stucco building with a white iron gate… and from there, think “orange”. The bedding, curtains, furniture, lights both in the rooms and community areas and employee uniforms (and probably more things I haven’t spotted yet) are all orange, shiny bright polyester orange. The rooms are quite large compared to St Anna’s, but from there, I am not sure this is the better choice. No hot water (ever)… I will receive a bucket (orange in color) of hot water in the morning at 7 for bathing. One huge roach…. lots of mosquitoes…possible signs of mice.
We placed our dinner order from the menu, but lots of confusion and challenges followed - not enough onions for onion soup, so Frank & I opted for tomato instead… Jeanne & Meg ordered kebabs… but they had no kebabs, so Jeanne ordered 2 sausages and chips masala (French fries with masala sauce)… Peggy and Meg asked what they did have to serve – and the answer was lots of fish and chicken. We were sitting on an outdoor swing on the back patio at this point, between the kitchen and laundry hanging on a line… there were four live chickens tied together, squawking on the concrete behind us. We figured that was the “lots of chicken”. Peggy opted for fish; my brave Meg asked for chicken. Peggy indeed got fish – head to tail, guts and all… and Meg had the best meal of the evening (chicken masala)… we later decided it was the black feathered chicken that became her dinner (and laughed, probably very inappropriately, as we took the “after” pictures at the dinner table to go with our “before” shots taken outside earlier). It was almost 3 hours between the time we placed our orders and actually ate.
Frank then asked for his hot water for bathing and left the rest of us to look at photographs from the day… shortly afterward, the electricity went out. Lois, who had served dinner, kindly brought a candle… which I quickly took to Frank. I was remembering the night in the Kenya Comfort when the lights went off while I was showering – it’s a particularly vulnerable feeling!
Meghan reminded all of us that Africa always means adventures – and then we all said goodnight and went to sleep in our orange beds.
On the other side of the Rift Valley, we passed through dry, dry countryside with hardly a house or shop or person in sight. As we continued west, the grasses got greener; there were fields of maize and sugarcane, and beautiful bougainvillea in pinks, oranges and the deepest red you can imagine. We passed countless small villages and towns, each with colorful outdoor markets that lined the road, the standard “hotel & butchery” that Meghan spotted each time; tall, straight women with massive loads of sticks or produce or water balanced on their heads… and children everywhere, who seemed to love waving as the mzungu’s (white men) drove by.
We stopped around 2 for lunch at the Tea House in Kericho (those of you who remember last time… trouble with the bill… Frank broke his tooth on the lamb… he wanted to create a better memory, so we went back). I don’t think we have a better memory after this time either (very marginal food & sanitation) – but outside, the gardens were beautiful – so many flowers I didn’t recognize … and pink and red poinsettias 15 feet high! It was here that we again spotted the first monkeys of the trip – so playful as they scampered across the lawn of the Tea House and over the wall.
We arrived in Kisumu around five (recognized the turn-off to Reach-Out as we drove into town, but won’t go there until tomorrow) and met Hezekiah at the Nakumatt parking lot so he could direct us the Impala Resort, where we learned last night that we would be staying… St Anna’s had evidently double-booked three of our five nights, so Hezekiah made the decision to move us to a nearby place that wouldn’t require us to move after two days. I am not sure how I can tell you about this place. A walled stucco building with a white iron gate… and from there, think “orange”. The bedding, curtains, furniture, lights both in the rooms and community areas and employee uniforms (and probably more things I haven’t spotted yet) are all orange, shiny bright polyester orange. The rooms are quite large compared to St Anna’s, but from there, I am not sure this is the better choice. No hot water (ever)… I will receive a bucket (orange in color) of hot water in the morning at 7 for bathing. One huge roach…. lots of mosquitoes…possible signs of mice.
We placed our dinner order from the menu, but lots of confusion and challenges followed - not enough onions for onion soup, so Frank & I opted for tomato instead… Jeanne & Meg ordered kebabs… but they had no kebabs, so Jeanne ordered 2 sausages and chips masala (French fries with masala sauce)… Peggy and Meg asked what they did have to serve – and the answer was lots of fish and chicken. We were sitting on an outdoor swing on the back patio at this point, between the kitchen and laundry hanging on a line… there were four live chickens tied together, squawking on the concrete behind us. We figured that was the “lots of chicken”. Peggy opted for fish; my brave Meg asked for chicken. Peggy indeed got fish – head to tail, guts and all… and Meg had the best meal of the evening (chicken masala)… we later decided it was the black feathered chicken that became her dinner (and laughed, probably very inappropriately, as we took the “after” pictures at the dinner table to go with our “before” shots taken outside earlier). It was almost 3 hours between the time we placed our orders and actually ate.
Frank then asked for his hot water for bathing and left the rest of us to look at photographs from the day… shortly afterward, the electricity went out. Lois, who had served dinner, kindly brought a candle… which I quickly took to Frank. I was remembering the night in the Kenya Comfort when the lights went off while I was showering – it’s a particularly vulnerable feeling!
Meghan reminded all of us that Africa always means adventures – and then we all said goodnight and went to sleep in our orange beds.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Reunion
Saturday was reunion day!! Frank, Meg, Jeanne and Peggy arrived just a little late – right at the same time flights from Dar Salaam and Entebbe came in (this was not Charlotte-Douglas Airport!). I spotted Frank first – in a red baseball cap, Meghan with her red hair and a green shirt, Jeanne in polka dots and Peggy… in a wheel chair. Peggy broke her foot the day before leaving and decided she could still come – my hero! The wheelchair ended up being a real plus for the group – they got VIP treatment, including by-passing the long visa line at the entry into the country! The ride home was filled with laughter and everyone talking over one another in excitement – it’s so good to have them here. We checked into the Heron Court (such luxury compared to Kenya Comfort) and had a late, light dinner (mostly soups). After dinner, Frank, Meg and I came back to our room to celebrate in style – Mbugua, one of the HOPE drivers, has a sweet wife who works at the Nakumatt; she made a chocolate cake for Frank & Meg with their names and a welcome note on the cake. After a long plane flight and an evening of reunion, we all settled into bed (although in a moment of despair, I discovered there was no hot water even at the Heron Court!... maybe I'll have a warm shower tomorrow).
Sunday was a blur especially to the jetlagged crew. We headed to church early for a 2 ½ hour women’s service. Afterwards, Meg and I went to the “terrace” which was an old wood grandstand in front of a soccer field behind the Railway Club (where the church meets). Carol Mukenya had again asked that I speak to all the mothers in the church about parenting. As I began the lesson Carol interrupted to ask Meghan to move to the other side of the stadium along with all the teen moms and unexpectedly asked Meghan to speak to both the teen moms and later to the teens. I didn’t get to hear Meghan, but I’m sure she did a great job! After church we all joined Malinda and Tewolde, Dagi and Hope for lunch at the Ethiopian restaurant that I wanted the family to experience. It was also Malinda’s birthday, so in Ethiopian tradition we had popcorn with candies (not candles) on top to celebrate at the end of our meal.
Monday was back to Dandora! I was so eager for my family to see the world that I had been living in for the past month.
From Meghan (we have much to catch up on... my writer Meg, is helping me write!)
We left Monday morning around 9:30 for Dandora. The hour drive took us through downtown Nairobi and other familiar parts of the city. I knew however that I had reached Dandora when the cement buildings became three pieces of tin put together, the trash covered the streets with pigs scavenging through it and a blanket of dust covered the sky. Since I have been in Kenya on Friday I felt so comfortable and almost sad that I wasn’t shocked anymore by the sights and sounds of Africa. Kenya had become my home, but the first time, as we entered Dandora, I felt uncomfortable and uneasy. We arrived at the OVC center were Charles took us to St. Elizabeth School where we were a part of a filming of a documentary about building self esteem in children who have experienced psychosocial trauma. After that we went to Rosebella’s school to see the Kid’s Club in action. The Kid’s Club is for any of the children in the area, but the orphans and vulnerable children have special support groups. We were greeted by the eleven year old chairman of the Kid’s Club board, Tasha, who showed us around the school and began a business meeting with us. We saw how the students made soap, shampoo, necklaces, eco-friendly rope and sold solar lights to raise money for the food for the club and for the orphans. Tasha was an amazing and intellectual girl; she could run any major corporation right now! The teachers told us that Tasha first came to the school very shy, insecure and withdrawn because her dad had died of AIDS and her mother had abandoned her. Since coming to the Kid’s Club she had come alive and a spark was lit in her. She has become passionate about taking care of the children in the club and had found pride in her projects. Rosebella was also a remarkable woman. She taught in Kenyan public school s for many years and now just does this as volunteer work and also takes care of most of the orphan children in the school. It was amazing to see how creative, intellectual and proud these orphan and vulnerable children had become because of the Kid’s Club.
Back to me: (thanks for your help, Meg!)
After spending the morning visiting the two primary schools and Kids Clubs, we went back to the main HOPE office, and then walked to Velma’s for “tea and chapatti’s”. I was so pleased to have my family there – and think Velma was equaled pleased. It took a few moments to arrange the seating. We moved one table back to the couch, arranged chairs on the other side (some chairs had backs, others were broken off), and then we balanced a second table on the dirt floor and moved benches and chairs around it. Our small crowd overwhelmed the little place. Baka was there, so he joined us – Frank, Meg, Jeanne, Peggy, Lawrence, Charles, Baka and me. Then out came our “tea” – first the assorted cups, then the thermoses of tea & milk, then chapatti’s – both plain and ones with green specks (herbs, Velma said) and then mandazi’s (little fried dough) – both plain & cinnamon flavored. Jeanne had been inspecting the cooking area & asking questions about the food in all the pots… and before we knew it, Velma started sending plates of food out – rice, beans, cabbage, green grams, stew, carrots, a “salad” of chopped tomatoes & peppers…. Plate after plate … we hardly knew where to begin (on several levels!) … fortunately, Lawrence, Charles & Baka were more than happy to eat more than their share of the food. I presented Velma with the three bright, stainless steel Oneida cooking spoons that Frank had brought from home for me. I think she was extremely pleased with the new utensils – and also with the bow on the spoons (a big pink & purple bow that came from some flowers I was given Sunday). She quickly tied the purple and pink bow to the top of the post adjacent to her countertop. I wouldn’t be surprised if that bow isn’t still there on any return trip I make!
After tea, which actually became lunch, we went back to the office to meet Siata. She had brought a mother & special needs child to the HOPE office for an interview with me and inclusion on our special needs list. After the interview, I presented Siata with the materials that Priscilla had send from her own special needs collection. Priscilla, I can’t tell you how wonderfully the things you sent were received! I don’t think I had ever seen such a beautiful smile on her face. She made a touching comment… she said many people have come through Dandora and have talked about help, but your gift of school supplies was the first tangible things she had actually been given. She and Makena will sort though all the materials and then deliver the materials later this week to the special unit at Ronald Ngara School. P.S. the Obama inauguration magazine was a REAL HIT with all the HOPE staff! Not sure who actually went home that treasure!
After meeting with Siata, we made a final home visit (Frank, Meg, Jeanne , Charles & Zaire and me) – this time to deliver food and a blanket (your last hand-made one, Lori!) to the family I had met last week (elderly granny caring for a 15 deaf granddaughter – who is a total orphan – and who has a four month old baby. I gave Zaire a single bill worth about $15 and we stopped at a little market en route to the granny’s home – I couldn’t believe how much food that small amount of money purchased! And I couldn’t count the number of “asante sanas” (thank you very much) the granny exclaimed. I learned later that the granny told Zaire they had not eaten since yesterday and didn’t know where food was coming from today… perfect timing; I bet the granny had been praying. As I walked with Zaire back to the office, she told me that she had taken several agency heads to that particular home... but that no one has ever provided tangible help. An echo of Siata’s statements….Zaire was thrilled and I was so glad we could help… at least for the day.
Today (Tuesday) has been another whirlwind – spent the morning at the HOPE main office in Kilileshua, where the gang got the tour of all the agencies within HOPE and then I presented a summary of my work for the summer. After that, we played! Off to the Giraffe Park (I do think giraffes are my favorite African animal) where we fed the giraffes, saw real wart hogs (so completely ugly that they are adorable!) and where I was able to get more of the carved wooden birds… one of my favorite Kenyan souvenirs – I brought home several last time, but gave them all away, without saving one for myself! Then to Kazuri beads (another favorite location)… history, economic empowerment for women… and exquisite beads made on site. I had forgotten that Kazuri means “small & beautiful”… such a perfect description of the work! And finally, a late dinner with both the Mwanza’s and Ondatto’s… some of our dearest friends here.
Tomorrow we leave for Kisumu and the Reach-Out program…. a six hour ride through the Rift Valley and Kenyan tea plantations. We may not have internet until next week, so don’t worry if you find nothing here for the next several days! We are well and happy!
Sunday was a blur especially to the jetlagged crew. We headed to church early for a 2 ½ hour women’s service. Afterwards, Meg and I went to the “terrace” which was an old wood grandstand in front of a soccer field behind the Railway Club (where the church meets). Carol Mukenya had again asked that I speak to all the mothers in the church about parenting. As I began the lesson Carol interrupted to ask Meghan to move to the other side of the stadium along with all the teen moms and unexpectedly asked Meghan to speak to both the teen moms and later to the teens. I didn’t get to hear Meghan, but I’m sure she did a great job! After church we all joined Malinda and Tewolde, Dagi and Hope for lunch at the Ethiopian restaurant that I wanted the family to experience. It was also Malinda’s birthday, so in Ethiopian tradition we had popcorn with candies (not candles) on top to celebrate at the end of our meal.
Monday was back to Dandora! I was so eager for my family to see the world that I had been living in for the past month.
From Meghan (we have much to catch up on... my writer Meg, is helping me write!)
We left Monday morning around 9:30 for Dandora. The hour drive took us through downtown Nairobi and other familiar parts of the city. I knew however that I had reached Dandora when the cement buildings became three pieces of tin put together, the trash covered the streets with pigs scavenging through it and a blanket of dust covered the sky. Since I have been in Kenya on Friday I felt so comfortable and almost sad that I wasn’t shocked anymore by the sights and sounds of Africa. Kenya had become my home, but the first time, as we entered Dandora, I felt uncomfortable and uneasy. We arrived at the OVC center were Charles took us to St. Elizabeth School where we were a part of a filming of a documentary about building self esteem in children who have experienced psychosocial trauma. After that we went to Rosebella’s school to see the Kid’s Club in action. The Kid’s Club is for any of the children in the area, but the orphans and vulnerable children have special support groups. We were greeted by the eleven year old chairman of the Kid’s Club board, Tasha, who showed us around the school and began a business meeting with us. We saw how the students made soap, shampoo, necklaces, eco-friendly rope and sold solar lights to raise money for the food for the club and for the orphans. Tasha was an amazing and intellectual girl; she could run any major corporation right now! The teachers told us that Tasha first came to the school very shy, insecure and withdrawn because her dad had died of AIDS and her mother had abandoned her. Since coming to the Kid’s Club she had come alive and a spark was lit in her. She has become passionate about taking care of the children in the club and had found pride in her projects. Rosebella was also a remarkable woman. She taught in Kenyan public school s for many years and now just does this as volunteer work and also takes care of most of the orphan children in the school. It was amazing to see how creative, intellectual and proud these orphan and vulnerable children had become because of the Kid’s Club.
Back to me: (thanks for your help, Meg!)
After spending the morning visiting the two primary schools and Kids Clubs, we went back to the main HOPE office, and then walked to Velma’s for “tea and chapatti’s”. I was so pleased to have my family there – and think Velma was equaled pleased. It took a few moments to arrange the seating. We moved one table back to the couch, arranged chairs on the other side (some chairs had backs, others were broken off), and then we balanced a second table on the dirt floor and moved benches and chairs around it. Our small crowd overwhelmed the little place. Baka was there, so he joined us – Frank, Meg, Jeanne, Peggy, Lawrence, Charles, Baka and me. Then out came our “tea” – first the assorted cups, then the thermoses of tea & milk, then chapatti’s – both plain and ones with green specks (herbs, Velma said) and then mandazi’s (little fried dough) – both plain & cinnamon flavored. Jeanne had been inspecting the cooking area & asking questions about the food in all the pots… and before we knew it, Velma started sending plates of food out – rice, beans, cabbage, green grams, stew, carrots, a “salad” of chopped tomatoes & peppers…. Plate after plate … we hardly knew where to begin (on several levels!) … fortunately, Lawrence, Charles & Baka were more than happy to eat more than their share of the food. I presented Velma with the three bright, stainless steel Oneida cooking spoons that Frank had brought from home for me. I think she was extremely pleased with the new utensils – and also with the bow on the spoons (a big pink & purple bow that came from some flowers I was given Sunday). She quickly tied the purple and pink bow to the top of the post adjacent to her countertop. I wouldn’t be surprised if that bow isn’t still there on any return trip I make!
After tea, which actually became lunch, we went back to the office to meet Siata. She had brought a mother & special needs child to the HOPE office for an interview with me and inclusion on our special needs list. After the interview, I presented Siata with the materials that Priscilla had send from her own special needs collection. Priscilla, I can’t tell you how wonderfully the things you sent were received! I don’t think I had ever seen such a beautiful smile on her face. She made a touching comment… she said many people have come through Dandora and have talked about help, but your gift of school supplies was the first tangible things she had actually been given. She and Makena will sort though all the materials and then deliver the materials later this week to the special unit at Ronald Ngara School. P.S. the Obama inauguration magazine was a REAL HIT with all the HOPE staff! Not sure who actually went home that treasure!
After meeting with Siata, we made a final home visit (Frank, Meg, Jeanne , Charles & Zaire and me) – this time to deliver food and a blanket (your last hand-made one, Lori!) to the family I had met last week (elderly granny caring for a 15 deaf granddaughter – who is a total orphan – and who has a four month old baby. I gave Zaire a single bill worth about $15 and we stopped at a little market en route to the granny’s home – I couldn’t believe how much food that small amount of money purchased! And I couldn’t count the number of “asante sanas” (thank you very much) the granny exclaimed. I learned later that the granny told Zaire they had not eaten since yesterday and didn’t know where food was coming from today… perfect timing; I bet the granny had been praying. As I walked with Zaire back to the office, she told me that she had taken several agency heads to that particular home... but that no one has ever provided tangible help. An echo of Siata’s statements….Zaire was thrilled and I was so glad we could help… at least for the day.
Today (Tuesday) has been another whirlwind – spent the morning at the HOPE main office in Kilileshua, where the gang got the tour of all the agencies within HOPE and then I presented a summary of my work for the summer. After that, we played! Off to the Giraffe Park (I do think giraffes are my favorite African animal) where we fed the giraffes, saw real wart hogs (so completely ugly that they are adorable!) and where I was able to get more of the carved wooden birds… one of my favorite Kenyan souvenirs – I brought home several last time, but gave them all away, without saving one for myself! Then to Kazuri beads (another favorite location)… history, economic empowerment for women… and exquisite beads made on site. I had forgotten that Kazuri means “small & beautiful”… such a perfect description of the work! And finally, a late dinner with both the Mwanza’s and Ondatto’s… some of our dearest friends here.
Tomorrow we leave for Kisumu and the Reach-Out program…. a six hour ride through the Rift Valley and Kenyan tea plantations. We may not have internet until next week, so don’t worry if you find nothing here for the next several days! We are well and happy!
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Last night at Kenya Comfort
Note: I’ve had no internet for a day and a half… so was unable to post this last night. Here’s yesterday’s news... just a little late. Still waiting for Frank & Meg’s arrival!
Tonight is my last night at Kenya Comfort... while I still have two weeks left in Kenya, this seems like the beginning of the end. I don’t have too many sentimental attachments to this place (a little unusual for me)… the sporadic internet, lack of hot water and chronically clogged sink may have something to do with that. But I have been generally comfortable and felt safe and will miss the 5 a.m. chanting at a nearby mosque, the sounds of roosters throughout the day, and the laugher and chatter of the village below at night. I have loved the real noises of this place – they are not the result of a TV or radio… but are the genuine sounds of life.
So a final update on the village below. The Coke cooler chest has disappeared! In fact it was missing the morning following the day I had spotted it – really strange since I had both gone to bed quite last and gotten up quite early. I wondered if it had been moved inside the market during the night (can’t imagine how it fit through the doorway!), was stolen… or was just something I imagined. Now in place of the Coke cooler is a “new” white round plastic table and six white plastic chairs… a little outdoor café-look! The new bins for produce have been filled, people are eating and talking around the new table, and for the first time tonight, there were 3 lights in the market at night… up until tonight there have always been only two.
Funny thing about the two areas outside my window. The nicer apartment building to the right of the fence is landscaped with grass and flowers, has a paved parking lot and is filled with nice cars (Mercedes, SUVs)… however, I rarely see a person on that side of the wall. In contrast, the village on the left side of the wall is a bee-hive of activity – Mr. Clean was actually dancing today to Kiswahili music he was playing on the radio of a big gold Mercedes he was washing. The men at the pool hall started early today ( the pool hall actually just has a very limited framework of small trees that form the stick frame around it… there may or may not be plans to actually enclose the area… a silver tarp serves as the roof). I watched Mr. Clean go over to the pool hall frame and pull bark off the trees, which he then used to start a fire at his home… I guess it was like borrowing a cup of sugar from a neighbor, except that he didn’t ask permission! The market has a constant stream of visitors & customers and I have realized the area (around the corner from the market) where women sit each morning on the upholstered swivel stools to shred greens and sort beans & corn is actually a “restaurant”. Since I worked from home today, I could see people being arriving late morning to sit and eat at the big table. The contrast between the apartment house and the village is so stark…. affluence vs poverty … but the village seems so much more alive with people living, working and playing in the open and nearly on top of one another… and always noises, including a songs every night (perhaps signaling a last round of drinks before a little pub (just beyond the market) closes at night?). Like Dandora, I love the sense of community I see!
As I write, it’s Friday afternoon for Frank and Meg ; they should be in the air between Charlotte and Newark, where I think they’ll meet Jeanne… Peggy will join them in Amsterdam tomorrow morning… Kate and Dave are in Viet Nam, probably asleep in some rustic farm house tonight after their 8 mile hike; it's already Saturday in their world… Chrissy & Kris are finishing their Fridays at work and will begin a relaxing weekend after a teen devotional tonight… It’s approaching midnight for me in Nairobi…so many different places and times we live in. I’m so glad that at least Frank & I will be living in the same world by tomorrow night – and so glad that Heron Court has hot showers!
Tonight is my last night at Kenya Comfort... while I still have two weeks left in Kenya, this seems like the beginning of the end. I don’t have too many sentimental attachments to this place (a little unusual for me)… the sporadic internet, lack of hot water and chronically clogged sink may have something to do with that. But I have been generally comfortable and felt safe and will miss the 5 a.m. chanting at a nearby mosque, the sounds of roosters throughout the day, and the laugher and chatter of the village below at night. I have loved the real noises of this place – they are not the result of a TV or radio… but are the genuine sounds of life.
So a final update on the village below. The Coke cooler chest has disappeared! In fact it was missing the morning following the day I had spotted it – really strange since I had both gone to bed quite last and gotten up quite early. I wondered if it had been moved inside the market during the night (can’t imagine how it fit through the doorway!), was stolen… or was just something I imagined. Now in place of the Coke cooler is a “new” white round plastic table and six white plastic chairs… a little outdoor café-look! The new bins for produce have been filled, people are eating and talking around the new table, and for the first time tonight, there were 3 lights in the market at night… up until tonight there have always been only two.
Funny thing about the two areas outside my window. The nicer apartment building to the right of the fence is landscaped with grass and flowers, has a paved parking lot and is filled with nice cars (Mercedes, SUVs)… however, I rarely see a person on that side of the wall. In contrast, the village on the left side of the wall is a bee-hive of activity – Mr. Clean was actually dancing today to Kiswahili music he was playing on the radio of a big gold Mercedes he was washing. The men at the pool hall started early today ( the pool hall actually just has a very limited framework of small trees that form the stick frame around it… there may or may not be plans to actually enclose the area… a silver tarp serves as the roof). I watched Mr. Clean go over to the pool hall frame and pull bark off the trees, which he then used to start a fire at his home… I guess it was like borrowing a cup of sugar from a neighbor, except that he didn’t ask permission! The market has a constant stream of visitors & customers and I have realized the area (around the corner from the market) where women sit each morning on the upholstered swivel stools to shred greens and sort beans & corn is actually a “restaurant”. Since I worked from home today, I could see people being arriving late morning to sit and eat at the big table. The contrast between the apartment house and the village is so stark…. affluence vs poverty … but the village seems so much more alive with people living, working and playing in the open and nearly on top of one another… and always noises, including a songs every night (perhaps signaling a last round of drinks before a little pub (just beyond the market) closes at night?). Like Dandora, I love the sense of community I see!
As I write, it’s Friday afternoon for Frank and Meg ; they should be in the air between Charlotte and Newark, where I think they’ll meet Jeanne… Peggy will join them in Amsterdam tomorrow morning… Kate and Dave are in Viet Nam, probably asleep in some rustic farm house tonight after their 8 mile hike; it's already Saturday in their world… Chrissy & Kris are finishing their Fridays at work and will begin a relaxing weekend after a teen devotional tonight… It’s approaching midnight for me in Nairobi…so many different places and times we live in. I’m so glad that at least Frank & I will be living in the same world by tomorrow night – and so glad that Heron Court has hot showers!
Friday, June 19, 2009
I belong
OK… a day of rest (kind of) and both my camera & I are recharged!
Yesterday was my last full day at Dandora – although I’m not really done yet. I’ll go back on Saturday for a half day, have a relatively full day on Monday (with my family with me! ), and will make a good-by visit after we return from Kisumu. The day was somewhat routine – visited three families in the morning, two of whom had special needs children, another family had multiple vulnerable children, but without support…a quick lunch (after a month of eating an avocado a day for lunch, how could I forget my knife and spoon? had to peel it and made a mess)… then went back out for more visits.
What was different about today was that I felt like I belonged here! I was walking down one narrow pathway and here came Siata (aka, Elizabeth)… she was on her way to see me to say she had found another special needs child and was urgent that I “document” this child as part of our project before I left (thus the Monday visit)…. Down another road, a woman walked up to me and gave me a big hug… I had met her Sunday at church! Who could have ever imagined that I would have found someone I “knew” in this massive slum of Dandora? I saw Farida, a care team member, near the pineapple stand and she stopped me to introduce me to her son. Then the man with the withered legs that I see each day on his hand-pedaled bike passed by with a wave. Next a quick stop at Velma’s to say hello to her husband & see what they were cooking for the day (Velma now shakes my hand each day with the same handshake she uses for her friends… I feel honored!). I passed the same little “pub” six times on Wednesday as we walked back & forth… and the same men call out “muzungu” (white man) each time. They no longer bother me. I know which shop has the best grains, who carries the sweetest bananas and where you can get the larger black avocados instead of the small green ones. I can walk by the Plexiglas boxes filled with cow entrails now without a second glance (& without gagging). I know which street sells dry goods (clothes, blankets, shoes) and which streets sell food and I know the side alleys where the furniture makers cut their wood, assemble the furniture, and paint or upholster it. I know the bad corner where the buses and matatu’s clash, fighting for riders and space… and I know they would just as soon run you over as steer around you – that’s an area that you pay attention as you walk! And I know how to avoid the dump and the pigs and I have found the Nairobi River. I also know that anytime I pass a schoolyard I will be surrounded by laughinging children wanting to shake my hand & I’ve learned that if I give “high fives” instead, they can’t grab onto me quite as easily. They think it is a “lucky thing” to touch a white man – if a simple hand-shake makes a child feel special or important, I will shake a thousand little hands! For all its filth and trash and hidden horror, Dandora Phase 4 is truly a community and is home for so many good people.
So in the continued contrast of world’s that I am trying to reconcile, tonight Anyima and Edward took me to dinner at a hotel that rivals any posh place in NYC… stunningly beautiful inside- marble and polished wood mixed with massive arrangements of bird of paradise flowers and African art, tables with white tablecloths and fresh flowers, and the food was beyond wonderful... mounds of shrimp, melons, avocados, mango chutney, delicious meats. Complete luxury… and I learned that it was at this hotel that Kofi Annin negotiated the settlement to the post-election violence in Kenya a year and a half ago. I honestly didn’t think there was anywhere in Kenya that was comparable to western standards… this place was certainly that and more. It felt odd coming back to my “hotel” where I will take a cold shower again tonight….but for now I am content in my little place with my roosters each morning and my little village below.
Yesterday was my last full day at Dandora – although I’m not really done yet. I’ll go back on Saturday for a half day, have a relatively full day on Monday (with my family with me! ), and will make a good-by visit after we return from Kisumu. The day was somewhat routine – visited three families in the morning, two of whom had special needs children, another family had multiple vulnerable children, but without support…a quick lunch (after a month of eating an avocado a day for lunch, how could I forget my knife and spoon? had to peel it and made a mess)… then went back out for more visits.
What was different about today was that I felt like I belonged here! I was walking down one narrow pathway and here came Siata (aka, Elizabeth)… she was on her way to see me to say she had found another special needs child and was urgent that I “document” this child as part of our project before I left (thus the Monday visit)…. Down another road, a woman walked up to me and gave me a big hug… I had met her Sunday at church! Who could have ever imagined that I would have found someone I “knew” in this massive slum of Dandora? I saw Farida, a care team member, near the pineapple stand and she stopped me to introduce me to her son. Then the man with the withered legs that I see each day on his hand-pedaled bike passed by with a wave. Next a quick stop at Velma’s to say hello to her husband & see what they were cooking for the day (Velma now shakes my hand each day with the same handshake she uses for her friends… I feel honored!). I passed the same little “pub” six times on Wednesday as we walked back & forth… and the same men call out “muzungu” (white man) each time. They no longer bother me. I know which shop has the best grains, who carries the sweetest bananas and where you can get the larger black avocados instead of the small green ones. I can walk by the Plexiglas boxes filled with cow entrails now without a second glance (& without gagging). I know which street sells dry goods (clothes, blankets, shoes) and which streets sell food and I know the side alleys where the furniture makers cut their wood, assemble the furniture, and paint or upholster it. I know the bad corner where the buses and matatu’s clash, fighting for riders and space… and I know they would just as soon run you over as steer around you – that’s an area that you pay attention as you walk! And I know how to avoid the dump and the pigs and I have found the Nairobi River. I also know that anytime I pass a schoolyard I will be surrounded by laughinging children wanting to shake my hand & I’ve learned that if I give “high fives” instead, they can’t grab onto me quite as easily. They think it is a “lucky thing” to touch a white man – if a simple hand-shake makes a child feel special or important, I will shake a thousand little hands! For all its filth and trash and hidden horror, Dandora Phase 4 is truly a community and is home for so many good people.
So in the continued contrast of world’s that I am trying to reconcile, tonight Anyima and Edward took me to dinner at a hotel that rivals any posh place in NYC… stunningly beautiful inside- marble and polished wood mixed with massive arrangements of bird of paradise flowers and African art, tables with white tablecloths and fresh flowers, and the food was beyond wonderful... mounds of shrimp, melons, avocados, mango chutney, delicious meats. Complete luxury… and I learned that it was at this hotel that Kofi Annin negotiated the settlement to the post-election violence in Kenya a year and a half ago. I honestly didn’t think there was anywhere in Kenya that was comparable to western standards… this place was certainly that and more. It felt odd coming back to my “hotel” where I will take a cold shower again tonight….but for now I am content in my little place with my roosters each morning and my little village below.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Battery Exhausted
I turned on my camera last night to download photos and the screen read “Battery exhausted”… my next thought was “I am too”.
There are so many things in this world I am living in that trouble me – my internet is constantly up and down and viewing/sharing pictures is just impossible; the electricity flickers a couple of times a night; I’ve had no hot (or even warm) water for four days now… transportation is so difficult and traffic jams eat up literally hours of each day; George and Anne have three little girls and have had no water in their middle class home for the last month; Mary M has malaria and Carol was in the hospital today with another illness they couldn’t really diagnose; Mary O turns off her refrigerator during the day to conserve electricity and thinks she got sick yesterday from spoiled food; a friend from church lost her baby at 7 months – was admitted to the hospital for a c-section to deliver the baby who had died & was sent home the same day with no information about her baby or the baby’s death; this past weekend an angry boyfriend burned down the home of one of the families I had met in Dandora last week… so those who already had nothing, now really have nothing; we think that the headmaster of a school serving special needs children is likely misdirecting or pocketing the government allowance for the children each year; today I watched children no more than 2-3 years old literally playing on (or eating from?) a huge heap of trash… no adults in sight…
Inconveniences, inefficiencies and injustices are everywhere... and yet, I meet people every day who are grateful for what they have and most have a very surrendered attitude toward the lives they are living. There is not a lot of the American-way of asking “why?” or “why not?”…or demanding change or insisting on rights. Perhaps that is why I am exhausted and those who are actually living the lives I am describing are not.
I’m not sure what to think about this – perhaps you who are reading this can help me make sense of it. When it is important to stir up a sense of discontent to bring about change – and when is acceptance the right path? Perhaps it’s the difference between a social vs a personal response.
In a very tender way, most of those women I have found in greatest need, look to God with no bitterness, but for comfort and strength. And today, we visited one of the poorest homes I have found in Dandora (back to levels of poverty… how far is the bottom?)… the father was so thankful we had made the trip to his home (which was quite a distance away and down many steep, narrow, muddy, rocky alleyways almost down to the Nairobi River which is polluted with filth) and that we offered the hope of some support for his family (4 children under 10, a fifth on the way, both parents HIV+) that he insisted we pray together before we left.. and he prayed a prayer of joy & thankfulness. To look at him, I can’t imagine he will be alive this time next year.
So yes, I feel exhausted, but maybe I need to follow the example of the father – and pray prayers of joy & thankfulness…but without forgetting some measure of moral indignation to all I am witnessing. Paul Farmer defines public health as “an applied form of social justice”… I really like that description.
Ok – so one bit of new news from the village below. Came home tonight and found that the market now has a big freezer chest in front with a Coke logo on it! I was really quite excited for the market – but I can’t imagine that they have electricity, so don’t think it could be a cooler… did some Coke distributor put the chest there just to store drinks? or was it salvaged from someone’s trash and will be used for an entirely different purpose? Hope I can figure this out before I leave! I am so impressed with the woman who owns this little market – she works from sun-up to sun-down, looks like she employees at least 2 other women and has a constant stream of customers. You go, little market girl!
There are so many things in this world I am living in that trouble me – my internet is constantly up and down and viewing/sharing pictures is just impossible; the electricity flickers a couple of times a night; I’ve had no hot (or even warm) water for four days now… transportation is so difficult and traffic jams eat up literally hours of each day; George and Anne have three little girls and have had no water in their middle class home for the last month; Mary M has malaria and Carol was in the hospital today with another illness they couldn’t really diagnose; Mary O turns off her refrigerator during the day to conserve electricity and thinks she got sick yesterday from spoiled food; a friend from church lost her baby at 7 months – was admitted to the hospital for a c-section to deliver the baby who had died & was sent home the same day with no information about her baby or the baby’s death; this past weekend an angry boyfriend burned down the home of one of the families I had met in Dandora last week… so those who already had nothing, now really have nothing; we think that the headmaster of a school serving special needs children is likely misdirecting or pocketing the government allowance for the children each year; today I watched children no more than 2-3 years old literally playing on (or eating from?) a huge heap of trash… no adults in sight…
Inconveniences, inefficiencies and injustices are everywhere... and yet, I meet people every day who are grateful for what they have and most have a very surrendered attitude toward the lives they are living. There is not a lot of the American-way of asking “why?” or “why not?”…or demanding change or insisting on rights. Perhaps that is why I am exhausted and those who are actually living the lives I am describing are not.
I’m not sure what to think about this – perhaps you who are reading this can help me make sense of it. When it is important to stir up a sense of discontent to bring about change – and when is acceptance the right path? Perhaps it’s the difference between a social vs a personal response.
In a very tender way, most of those women I have found in greatest need, look to God with no bitterness, but for comfort and strength. And today, we visited one of the poorest homes I have found in Dandora (back to levels of poverty… how far is the bottom?)… the father was so thankful we had made the trip to his home (which was quite a distance away and down many steep, narrow, muddy, rocky alleyways almost down to the Nairobi River which is polluted with filth) and that we offered the hope of some support for his family (4 children under 10, a fifth on the way, both parents HIV+) that he insisted we pray together before we left.. and he prayed a prayer of joy & thankfulness. To look at him, I can’t imagine he will be alive this time next year.
So yes, I feel exhausted, but maybe I need to follow the example of the father – and pray prayers of joy & thankfulness…but without forgetting some measure of moral indignation to all I am witnessing. Paul Farmer defines public health as “an applied form of social justice”… I really like that description.
Ok – so one bit of new news from the village below. Came home tonight and found that the market now has a big freezer chest in front with a Coke logo on it! I was really quite excited for the market – but I can’t imagine that they have electricity, so don’t think it could be a cooler… did some Coke distributor put the chest there just to store drinks? or was it salvaged from someone’s trash and will be used for an entirely different purpose? Hope I can figure this out before I leave! I am so impressed with the woman who owns this little market – she works from sun-up to sun-down, looks like she employees at least 2 other women and has a constant stream of customers. You go, little market girl!
Sunday, June 14, 2009
A long Sunday
Another full Sunday – I left at 7:30 this morning and got home at 8 this evening… Kenyan hospitality is so gracious… but always involves a lot of time! I met with the East region of the Nairobi church today and was so grateful for their warmth and many kindnesses. They meet (700+ adults and 300+ children) in an old YMCA. It was raining today and the roof was leaking in quite a number of places – it made for an interesting arrangement of the chairs (to avoid the all the drips). While the Central region (Steve & Carol) sings a mix of English and Kiswahili songs, today’s singing was almost all in Kiswahili or Kikuyu... both the language & the intricate clapping patterns escaped me! At least Anne was beside me and translated the songs. I got to visit all the children’s classes – so many bright faces! While they have a number of rooms, the children are still quite crowded. Their biggest challenge? – the site has no useable bathrooms. They have a new building now under construction and needless to say, they are so thrilled for the opportunity to worship in a place of their own – with bathrooms!, hopefully by the end of the year. A humbling fact – in this church of 700+ adults, there are only a handful of cars… most people walk (miles) or take matatu’s to get here.
I got to meet two very special groups of people today. There are probably 50 people from the church who live in Dandora! I got to meet two groups of women and found out they actually meet in the HOPE office (downstairs) for their midweek studies… I think I will stay late at work on Wednesday to meet with them and then go to the East midweek service a little late. That means I will be in Dandora after dark – I am not sure how comfortable I’ll be with that, but I think it will be worth it. I felt a special connection with these women because of my time in Dandora… I am sure each of them is a real light in that dark place.
The other special group I got to meet today was the KenyaKids children we have sponsored for several years. The children and their parents all found me on Sunday… I was so glad that I recognized each of the children from the photos I had and remembered each of their names! The family lives in Mukuru (a slum considered worse than Dandora - if you don’t count the dump issue), but the children are all in school, get food supplements each month and looked bright and healthy. I was so glad to put voices (and give hugs) to the pictures I had had for so long!
I spent the afternoon with George and Anne - a wonderful meal of rice, cabbage, stew, chicken and oranges… and was again reminded of the luxury of my own life. Water is being rationed in their neighborhood, so they have had little or no water in their home over the last month…. and somehow connected, they also have regular power outages. Such basics that I take for granted.
So, time for an update on my village below:
· Yesterday, amid the shacks and cars and pool table and little market, I saw a Maasai man walking – very straight, very tall, very dark and wearing only the typical red and blue checked blanket of the Maasai. Such a dignified presence in the little village.
· Yesterday, also saw a soldier walk thru the village – in full camouflage and carrying a rifle over his shoulder. I am sure the gun was real – just hope it wasn’t loaded, although something tells me it likely was…
· Sweeping dirt. I see so many of the women sweeping the areas around their homes – but they are just sweeping dirt areas. How do you know when your job is complete when you are sweeping dirt off dirt?
· I recently realized that the scenery on the roof top of the little market keeps changing – and with more careful watching, I have learned it is like an “open air attic”. On top of the roof (but within reach of someone on the ground) are pieces of wood, a hubcap, various baskets and plastic storage cartons, and other things too small for me to identify. Things move up to the attic and down, as they are needed. On rainy days, all the solid plastic pails come down to collect water!
Tonight for dinner I had a papaya, an avocado and a banana (all thanks to Mary M) – so wonderful!
I got to meet two very special groups of people today. There are probably 50 people from the church who live in Dandora! I got to meet two groups of women and found out they actually meet in the HOPE office (downstairs) for their midweek studies… I think I will stay late at work on Wednesday to meet with them and then go to the East midweek service a little late. That means I will be in Dandora after dark – I am not sure how comfortable I’ll be with that, but I think it will be worth it. I felt a special connection with these women because of my time in Dandora… I am sure each of them is a real light in that dark place.
The other special group I got to meet today was the KenyaKids children we have sponsored for several years. The children and their parents all found me on Sunday… I was so glad that I recognized each of the children from the photos I had and remembered each of their names! The family lives in Mukuru (a slum considered worse than Dandora - if you don’t count the dump issue), but the children are all in school, get food supplements each month and looked bright and healthy. I was so glad to put voices (and give hugs) to the pictures I had had for so long!
I spent the afternoon with George and Anne - a wonderful meal of rice, cabbage, stew, chicken and oranges… and was again reminded of the luxury of my own life. Water is being rationed in their neighborhood, so they have had little or no water in their home over the last month…. and somehow connected, they also have regular power outages. Such basics that I take for granted.
So, time for an update on my village below:
· Yesterday, amid the shacks and cars and pool table and little market, I saw a Maasai man walking – very straight, very tall, very dark and wearing only the typical red and blue checked blanket of the Maasai. Such a dignified presence in the little village.
· Yesterday, also saw a soldier walk thru the village – in full camouflage and carrying a rifle over his shoulder. I am sure the gun was real – just hope it wasn’t loaded, although something tells me it likely was…
· Sweeping dirt. I see so many of the women sweeping the areas around their homes – but they are just sweeping dirt areas. How do you know when your job is complete when you are sweeping dirt off dirt?
· I recently realized that the scenery on the roof top of the little market keeps changing – and with more careful watching, I have learned it is like an “open air attic”. On top of the roof (but within reach of someone on the ground) are pieces of wood, a hubcap, various baskets and plastic storage cartons, and other things too small for me to identify. Things move up to the attic and down, as they are needed. On rainy days, all the solid plastic pails come down to collect water!
Tonight for dinner I had a papaya, an avocado and a banana (all thanks to Mary M) – so wonderful!
Saturday, June 13, 2009
Day of the African Child
The Day of the African Child… here is the history from the UNICEF website:
The Day of the African Child is celebrated on June 16 in recognition of the day when, in 1976, thousands of black school children in Soweto, South Africa, took to the streets to protest the inferior quality of their education and to demand their right to be taught in their own language. Hundreds of young boys and girls were shot; and in the two weeks of protest that followed, more than 100 people were killed and more than 1,000 were injured.
It’s truly a solemn day in many ways, but most countries use it to highlight some children’s issue each year and then to celebrate the future. HOPE decided to have their celebration on Saturday rather than the 16th so children would be out of school and able to participate. Weeks of planning predated the celebration… 1,000 children from all the HOPE Kids Clubs in Dandora were expected! The Day was held at the Ronald Ngara school yard – a huge field … mostly dirt & dust, a few small areas of grass, and no shade… but plenty of space for all the children…. Activities were everywhere – foot races, football matches (soccer), egg races, singing, dancing, drama & poetry. A thousand dusty children, most in school uniforms… curiously, many wearing sweaters despite the heat & scorching sun. I watched many of the “performances” – songs were fabulous… some were native songs and included sounds (squeals, clicks and cries) that I know my vocal cords couldn’t begin to make!… the poetry and drama was also very well done – so expressive (I think that the soft, Kenyan voices and personalities seem to come alive at such times!)… but the topics were painful (AIDS, orphanhood, abuse and exploitation).
A few issues made for some challenges for the day – the PA system did not work… so communication across the masses was difficult. In another one of those odd juxtapositions of life in Kenya, a man pulling a wooden cart arrived and loaded up all the non-functioning PA equipment (big speakers, microphones, etc) onto the wooden cart and walked away, pulling his load…No Rent-a-Center trucks here!
The bigger issue was food… an Indian company from downtown Nairobi had agreed to donate rice, bread and drinks for the 1,000 children – for lunch. They called late morning to say they had no way to transport the food to Dandora, so wouldn’t be bringing it. Makena and Velma moved quickly to Plan B… and scoured all the little kiosks in Dandora until they had purchased 1,000 small bags of milk and an equal number of biscuits, rolls, and “cakes”. This, for the children, seemed to be the most exciting part of the day. Minor confusion initially (since there was no PA system to communicate the plan), but relatively quickly the Kids Clubs were all seated by groups (the green gingham uniforms here, the blue & white over there, the pink and gray along the fence…) and the then the patrons of each group picked up the milk and bread for their respective groups. The final issue arose when it became clear that there were a number of extra children (like hundreds), not in Kids Clubs, who had come for the celebrations and also needed to be fed. The milk supply appeared to be exhausted (at least within reasonable walking distance)… so the other children got sodas and slices of bread from regular loaves. The scope of this day can only be communicated with pictures – of which I took many!! I think the most poignant picture I’ll keep mentally is the one with a mass of children from one Kids Club sitting on the ground, happily eating their bread & drinking milk from the bags… adjacent to the non-club kids, also sitting on the ground, patiently watching others eat & wondering if they were going to get anything, since they were not part of the “invited” – I was so glad that HOPE’s heart was big enough to accommodate all the children.
The Day of the African Child is celebrated on June 16 in recognition of the day when, in 1976, thousands of black school children in Soweto, South Africa, took to the streets to protest the inferior quality of their education and to demand their right to be taught in their own language. Hundreds of young boys and girls were shot; and in the two weeks of protest that followed, more than 100 people were killed and more than 1,000 were injured.
It’s truly a solemn day in many ways, but most countries use it to highlight some children’s issue each year and then to celebrate the future. HOPE decided to have their celebration on Saturday rather than the 16th so children would be out of school and able to participate. Weeks of planning predated the celebration… 1,000 children from all the HOPE Kids Clubs in Dandora were expected! The Day was held at the Ronald Ngara school yard – a huge field … mostly dirt & dust, a few small areas of grass, and no shade… but plenty of space for all the children…. Activities were everywhere – foot races, football matches (soccer), egg races, singing, dancing, drama & poetry. A thousand dusty children, most in school uniforms… curiously, many wearing sweaters despite the heat & scorching sun. I watched many of the “performances” – songs were fabulous… some were native songs and included sounds (squeals, clicks and cries) that I know my vocal cords couldn’t begin to make!… the poetry and drama was also very well done – so expressive (I think that the soft, Kenyan voices and personalities seem to come alive at such times!)… but the topics were painful (AIDS, orphanhood, abuse and exploitation).
A few issues made for some challenges for the day – the PA system did not work… so communication across the masses was difficult. In another one of those odd juxtapositions of life in Kenya, a man pulling a wooden cart arrived and loaded up all the non-functioning PA equipment (big speakers, microphones, etc) onto the wooden cart and walked away, pulling his load…No Rent-a-Center trucks here!
The bigger issue was food… an Indian company from downtown Nairobi had agreed to donate rice, bread and drinks for the 1,000 children – for lunch. They called late morning to say they had no way to transport the food to Dandora, so wouldn’t be bringing it. Makena and Velma moved quickly to Plan B… and scoured all the little kiosks in Dandora until they had purchased 1,000 small bags of milk and an equal number of biscuits, rolls, and “cakes”. This, for the children, seemed to be the most exciting part of the day. Minor confusion initially (since there was no PA system to communicate the plan), but relatively quickly the Kids Clubs were all seated by groups (the green gingham uniforms here, the blue & white over there, the pink and gray along the fence…) and the then the patrons of each group picked up the milk and bread for their respective groups. The final issue arose when it became clear that there were a number of extra children (like hundreds), not in Kids Clubs, who had come for the celebrations and also needed to be fed. The milk supply appeared to be exhausted (at least within reasonable walking distance)… so the other children got sodas and slices of bread from regular loaves. The scope of this day can only be communicated with pictures – of which I took many!! I think the most poignant picture I’ll keep mentally is the one with a mass of children from one Kids Club sitting on the ground, happily eating their bread & drinking milk from the bags… adjacent to the non-club kids, also sitting on the ground, patiently watching others eat & wondering if they were going to get anything, since they were not part of the “invited” – I was so glad that HOPE’s heart was big enough to accommodate all the children.
Friday, June 12, 2009
Courage & contradictions
Small victories are so precious… remember Agnes, whose boxer-husband was brain-damaged and had gone crazy… with the very sick little toddler we sent to the clinic and the older girl who was out of school and seemed so listless and sad? Joy (or maybe more appropriately, hope) has come to that home. The mother came by yesterday with the paperwork from her daughter’s school, describing the fees required to re-enroll (I was so glad that the mother was responsible enough to follow-through on this request!). Makena spoke with the school early this morning and got the headmaster to agree to re-enroll the child at no charge as long as she could come to school in a school uniform and could buy her own books and supplies (sometimes you just need an advocate!). Makena then found a “well-wisher” to buy the uniform and supplies (I wouldn’t be surprised if the well-wisher isn’t Makena herself). The girl will stop by Monday to pick up her uniform – then she’s off to school! In addition, the mother came by again today- this time with the toddler. He indeed, did have pneumonia, got two shots… and today was smiling, squirming and breathing normally. These are such small steps in the overwhelming scope of the problems of Dandora… but for this one family, their world, at least for this week, is a better one.
I traveled with a new volunteer today (another young man who has finished high school but can’t afford college yet) to make home visits and he made an interesting comment. He talked about how the government doesn’t really recognize Dandora’s existence and therefore provides no services to the community (other than a token and some say, corrupt police presence) and he commented that there is just so much dirt, trash, depression, hopelessness here… he said that he wished he could give the people of Dandora just one day of happiness, free from this world they lived in. He himself lives in Dandora.
I learned more about the history of HOPE in Dandora today and continue to be impressed by the level of commitment the staff has to their work. In 2004/5, HOPE targeted Dandora as their next site for a HOPE program. They began by mapping the community, connecting with key people in the community and identifying strengths, weakness, and greatest needs. The group realized quickly that safety was one of the biggest concerns in the community and that HOPE could not move into the area until the security issues had been addressed. The primary issue was the significant presence of the Mungiki in Dandora– a political-religious, secret sect known for their gangs, extortion and gruesome, violent, criminal acts. How in the world do you deal with that kind of barrier, I asked the young man telling the story! He along with two other male HOPE staffers (the Mungiki distain women) spoke with community leaders to identify some of the Mungiki leaders. The three HOPE workers approached these Mungiki leaders and spent months building a friendship and getting their buy-in for the presence of a HOPE site. Over the course of a year, HOPE gained the Mungiki’s acceptance and some Mungiki even left the group during that time. Mungiki now often serve as security for special HOPE programs. These young men literally risked their lives to get the HOPE program started in Dandora. Who knew public health could be quite so dangerous!
I hit my goal of 50 surveys today, but will continue to add to that number as I am able… and today made more home visits. The stories are so similar … father/mother died, greatest needs: food, school fees, capital to start a business (Kiva, the microfinance group, seems to have pulled out of Kenya completely - not sure if they lost the supporting groups or if there were too many defaults). HOPE sometimes has funding to offer start-up business capital to families, especially those who have completed any of their vocational training programs, but is not into significant microfinancing and the funds they do get are limited.
I am getting used to walking into pitch black homes... what troubles me though are the smells – not the garbage smell, but the smell of the cooking fuel, paraffin, charcoal…sometimes homes even smell like gasoline – whichever, its often a heavy oily scent that permeates the air- and I again wonder about the long-term health effects of breathing such polluted air – especially for the children.
There are so many no-win decisions a person living in Dandora must make – do you cook outside your home (meaning you live in a more open and insecure area) or do you cook inside your “safe” home & get used to the side effects of the cooking fuels inside your home? Recently Dandora residents were told the eggs from their chickens contained high levels of certain toxins because the chickens ate from the dump; the residents were encouraged to feed their chickens grains… if a family cannot afford food for its children, it cannot afford to purchase food for chickens… so children continue to eat tainted eggs. So why don’t people flee this toxic area? Many (especially the children) have never seen beyond the five phases of Dandora to even understand that life can be different… plus they don’t even have the fare for a matatu…
Tomorrow HOPE is celebrating “The Day of the African Child” – games & races, poetry & drama, and the finale – a football (soccer) match! Over 1000 children are expected… hopefully they can forget Dandora for a day & just be children!
I traveled with a new volunteer today (another young man who has finished high school but can’t afford college yet) to make home visits and he made an interesting comment. He talked about how the government doesn’t really recognize Dandora’s existence and therefore provides no services to the community (other than a token and some say, corrupt police presence) and he commented that there is just so much dirt, trash, depression, hopelessness here… he said that he wished he could give the people of Dandora just one day of happiness, free from this world they lived in. He himself lives in Dandora.
I learned more about the history of HOPE in Dandora today and continue to be impressed by the level of commitment the staff has to their work. In 2004/5, HOPE targeted Dandora as their next site for a HOPE program. They began by mapping the community, connecting with key people in the community and identifying strengths, weakness, and greatest needs. The group realized quickly that safety was one of the biggest concerns in the community and that HOPE could not move into the area until the security issues had been addressed. The primary issue was the significant presence of the Mungiki in Dandora– a political-religious, secret sect known for their gangs, extortion and gruesome, violent, criminal acts. How in the world do you deal with that kind of barrier, I asked the young man telling the story! He along with two other male HOPE staffers (the Mungiki distain women) spoke with community leaders to identify some of the Mungiki leaders. The three HOPE workers approached these Mungiki leaders and spent months building a friendship and getting their buy-in for the presence of a HOPE site. Over the course of a year, HOPE gained the Mungiki’s acceptance and some Mungiki even left the group during that time. Mungiki now often serve as security for special HOPE programs. These young men literally risked their lives to get the HOPE program started in Dandora. Who knew public health could be quite so dangerous!
I hit my goal of 50 surveys today, but will continue to add to that number as I am able… and today made more home visits. The stories are so similar … father/mother died, greatest needs: food, school fees, capital to start a business (Kiva, the microfinance group, seems to have pulled out of Kenya completely - not sure if they lost the supporting groups or if there were too many defaults). HOPE sometimes has funding to offer start-up business capital to families, especially those who have completed any of their vocational training programs, but is not into significant microfinancing and the funds they do get are limited.
I am getting used to walking into pitch black homes... what troubles me though are the smells – not the garbage smell, but the smell of the cooking fuel, paraffin, charcoal…sometimes homes even smell like gasoline – whichever, its often a heavy oily scent that permeates the air- and I again wonder about the long-term health effects of breathing such polluted air – especially for the children.
There are so many no-win decisions a person living in Dandora must make – do you cook outside your home (meaning you live in a more open and insecure area) or do you cook inside your “safe” home & get used to the side effects of the cooking fuels inside your home? Recently Dandora residents were told the eggs from their chickens contained high levels of certain toxins because the chickens ate from the dump; the residents were encouraged to feed their chickens grains… if a family cannot afford food for its children, it cannot afford to purchase food for chickens… so children continue to eat tainted eggs. So why don’t people flee this toxic area? Many (especially the children) have never seen beyond the five phases of Dandora to even understand that life can be different… plus they don’t even have the fare for a matatu…
Tomorrow HOPE is celebrating “The Day of the African Child” – games & races, poetry & drama, and the finale – a football (soccer) match! Over 1000 children are expected… hopefully they can forget Dandora for a day & just be children!
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Mary's, mandazi's and much needed rest
I took today off from work… I am working again this Saturday & just needed a day to catch up on the little things of life – like washing and grocery shopping. Such chores have been nearly impossible to do in the evening. I felt very American today – wore slacks & flip flops, rather than a skirt… almost bought a coke at the store (but realized it had one of the hard metal caps & I didn’t remember seeing a can opener in my little kitchen)… bought more water, sweet potatoes, bananas, avocados and a new notebook. My notebook is so dirty & dingy and almost used up – it really looks like it has spent three weeks in a slum (hope I don’t look so worn!). Bought more minutes for my phone (I haven’t learned how to tell the status of my “minutes” and got cut off in the middle of a conversation earlier today)… then I went to the Banana Box at Sarit Center (for those of you who remember, the cool little gift store where you can use a credit card & don’t have to barter)… I was going American all the way today! (and still find it hard to believe that I am shopping alone in Nairobi).
I had a quick lunch I my room and then explored the place where I have been staying for almost three weeks now– there is a pool below me & I found my way to it… read Julie’s “State” magazine all about North Carolina (thanks again, Julie – it was a great reminder of home!) as I sat in the shade by the pool – not quite western standards, but the small trees, flowers & birds surrounding the pool were beautiful. I was careful to stay out of the sun (I remember the equatorial sunburn I got last time & didn’t want to repeat it)… and really enjoyed the soft breeze and sounds of the birds. A little waterfall (or open spigot) into the pool made the perfect flowing water sound.
The town was buzzing today because the new fiscal year’s budget was to be announced at 3 this afternoon. As we drove home from shopping, my driver pointed out police cars and staff amassing at all the major intersections… they evidently were expecting wide-spread protests in reaction to the budget and the police intended to stop things before they got started. So glad I went out early today – the traffic was already a challenge… can’t imagine what it was later in the day with major streets blocked off! But as far as I could tell, there were no major issues after the budget announcement.
The two Mary’s came for dinner tonight (we all had tilapia) – then up to my room, where they showed me how to make Kenyon ginger tea – with fresh ginger root… so wonderful! We had a great time talking about everything imaginable – from children and families to cooking techniques to life, aging….post-election violence… rural vs urban living…it couldn’t have been a more wonderful time. I learned I had bought “Ugandan bananas” which are only for cooking… Mary took them & said she’d replace them with “eating bananas” tomorrow – how kind.
I’ll be back to Dandora tomorrow – with a focus on finishing the last surveys, picking up names of unserved vulnerable children from one of the local schools – and hopefully talking to my last two special needs contacts – plus two home visits … a full day! Mary brought a tray of mandazi’s to me tonight (like square donuts without the hole… and just a hint of sweetness)… I’m sure I could eat the whole tray – but think it would be smarter if I took them with me to Dandora tomorrow!
I had a quick lunch I my room and then explored the place where I have been staying for almost three weeks now– there is a pool below me & I found my way to it… read Julie’s “State” magazine all about North Carolina (thanks again, Julie – it was a great reminder of home!) as I sat in the shade by the pool – not quite western standards, but the small trees, flowers & birds surrounding the pool were beautiful. I was careful to stay out of the sun (I remember the equatorial sunburn I got last time & didn’t want to repeat it)… and really enjoyed the soft breeze and sounds of the birds. A little waterfall (or open spigot) into the pool made the perfect flowing water sound.
The town was buzzing today because the new fiscal year’s budget was to be announced at 3 this afternoon. As we drove home from shopping, my driver pointed out police cars and staff amassing at all the major intersections… they evidently were expecting wide-spread protests in reaction to the budget and the police intended to stop things before they got started. So glad I went out early today – the traffic was already a challenge… can’t imagine what it was later in the day with major streets blocked off! But as far as I could tell, there were no major issues after the budget announcement.
The two Mary’s came for dinner tonight (we all had tilapia) – then up to my room, where they showed me how to make Kenyon ginger tea – with fresh ginger root… so wonderful! We had a great time talking about everything imaginable – from children and families to cooking techniques to life, aging….post-election violence… rural vs urban living…it couldn’t have been a more wonderful time. I learned I had bought “Ugandan bananas” which are only for cooking… Mary took them & said she’d replace them with “eating bananas” tomorrow – how kind.
I’ll be back to Dandora tomorrow – with a focus on finishing the last surveys, picking up names of unserved vulnerable children from one of the local schools – and hopefully talking to my last two special needs contacts – plus two home visits … a full day! Mary brought a tray of mandazi’s to me tonight (like square donuts without the hole… and just a hint of sweetness)… I’m sure I could eat the whole tray – but think it would be smarter if I took them with me to Dandora tomorrow!
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
A crowded landing
The days are beginning to get some routine – caregivers’ surveys, home visits – more data collected on unserved families (our catch-word for children eligible, but not currently sponsored by HOPE), more information collected on special needs children…. but on the other hand, things are never routine here.
On one home visit today (so far way that we rode a matatu - again, Frank!), we were walking to what I thought was a home. Elizabeth, the beautiful young woman on crutches who has such a passion for special needs children, was leading the way & suddenly turned into a shop of some kind, then down a tiny hallway and up two flights of stairs. There was a very, very small landing at the top of the stairs, a small bench with two schoolchildren seated on it – and a slightly opened door to a room where a meeting of some kind was going on. Out of the meeting room came two official-looking people, a woman with a massive head full of red and black curls, wearing a bright purple dress – and a tall slim man in a suit. Makena, Elizabeth on crutches, these two important-looking people, me and the bench with two children were all on this tiny landing… nearly nose to nose. Lots of Kiswahili…. Then everyone looked at me to speak… I had no idea where we were, who these people were & why we were even there – such a funny moment… to say nothing of all the people who had filled the tiny stairway below us (did they think they were going to witness some big meeting?)… And then up the stairs, carrying her 17 year old son on her back came the very woman we had meet in her home last week (with the 2 disabled sons, abandoned by both fathers). A plastic chair was then added to the landing (I don’t know how), so the boy could be put down. It was all done with such decorum – but I had to keep myself from laughing out loud at how utterly unreal the situation was. Who else could we add to this landing? More Kiswahili… a thousand handshakes all around and then we parted the people on the stairs & left as quickly as we arrived. Once back in the street, I asked Makena what in the world all that was – who were the official-looking people? How in the world did the family we had met miles & miles away get there & why had they come? I think Makena was as confused as I – but at least she understood that the man runs an agency that provides small sums of support to disabled families and had a history of collaborating with HOPE in the past. Elizabeth had just thought we should keep the two agencies in touch.
I never told you about getting school shoes here. All school shoes are made by the same “manufacturer” – not sure if it is really a manufacturing company or a bunch of people hand-sewing shoes in some back room. For HOPE to pay for the shoes, the parent must bring in a piece of paper with an outline of the child’s right foot drawn on the page and the name written on the sheet. HOPE then submits this drawing to the shoe manufacturer – and three short months later, a pair of shoes is returned with the drawing tucked inside to identify the new owner. No choice of style or color (all clunky, closed-toe black shoes – sounds kind of boring, doesn’t it, Olivia?). Three months of waiting for shoes – can you imagine?
That reminds me of a story one of my drivers told me about getting his wallet stolen… three trips to the government offices to replace his driver’s license (one day they couldn’t take his application because they did not have envelopes… came back the next day & they couldn’t help because they did not have electricity.. . the application was finally completed on his third visit)… the three trips bothered the driver – but he had no qualms about then waiting 3 months (!) for his new license to come in the mail. The patient acceptance of Kenyans is remarkable – but I’m not sure it’s always good.
Speaking of electricity… the Dandora office has been without electricity for two out of the last five days… today, we had electricity, but no water. My “hotel” has been out of bottled water (the small free ones you get each day) for four days… and the internet has been sporadic again. So many small inconveniences that Kenyans simply know & accept as a part of life. In this way, I am not “Kenyan” at all yet.
P.S. Today is my dad’s birthday – I have always thought that June 10th is one of most perfect dates on a calendar.
On one home visit today (so far way that we rode a matatu - again, Frank!), we were walking to what I thought was a home. Elizabeth, the beautiful young woman on crutches who has such a passion for special needs children, was leading the way & suddenly turned into a shop of some kind, then down a tiny hallway and up two flights of stairs. There was a very, very small landing at the top of the stairs, a small bench with two schoolchildren seated on it – and a slightly opened door to a room where a meeting of some kind was going on. Out of the meeting room came two official-looking people, a woman with a massive head full of red and black curls, wearing a bright purple dress – and a tall slim man in a suit. Makena, Elizabeth on crutches, these two important-looking people, me and the bench with two children were all on this tiny landing… nearly nose to nose. Lots of Kiswahili…. Then everyone looked at me to speak… I had no idea where we were, who these people were & why we were even there – such a funny moment… to say nothing of all the people who had filled the tiny stairway below us (did they think they were going to witness some big meeting?)… And then up the stairs, carrying her 17 year old son on her back came the very woman we had meet in her home last week (with the 2 disabled sons, abandoned by both fathers). A plastic chair was then added to the landing (I don’t know how), so the boy could be put down. It was all done with such decorum – but I had to keep myself from laughing out loud at how utterly unreal the situation was. Who else could we add to this landing? More Kiswahili… a thousand handshakes all around and then we parted the people on the stairs & left as quickly as we arrived. Once back in the street, I asked Makena what in the world all that was – who were the official-looking people? How in the world did the family we had met miles & miles away get there & why had they come? I think Makena was as confused as I – but at least she understood that the man runs an agency that provides small sums of support to disabled families and had a history of collaborating with HOPE in the past. Elizabeth had just thought we should keep the two agencies in touch.
I never told you about getting school shoes here. All school shoes are made by the same “manufacturer” – not sure if it is really a manufacturing company or a bunch of people hand-sewing shoes in some back room. For HOPE to pay for the shoes, the parent must bring in a piece of paper with an outline of the child’s right foot drawn on the page and the name written on the sheet. HOPE then submits this drawing to the shoe manufacturer – and three short months later, a pair of shoes is returned with the drawing tucked inside to identify the new owner. No choice of style or color (all clunky, closed-toe black shoes – sounds kind of boring, doesn’t it, Olivia?). Three months of waiting for shoes – can you imagine?
That reminds me of a story one of my drivers told me about getting his wallet stolen… three trips to the government offices to replace his driver’s license (one day they couldn’t take his application because they did not have envelopes… came back the next day & they couldn’t help because they did not have electricity.. . the application was finally completed on his third visit)… the three trips bothered the driver – but he had no qualms about then waiting 3 months (!) for his new license to come in the mail. The patient acceptance of Kenyans is remarkable – but I’m not sure it’s always good.
Speaking of electricity… the Dandora office has been without electricity for two out of the last five days… today, we had electricity, but no water. My “hotel” has been out of bottled water (the small free ones you get each day) for four days… and the internet has been sporadic again. So many small inconveniences that Kenyans simply know & accept as a part of life. In this way, I am not “Kenyan” at all yet.
P.S. Today is my dad’s birthday – I have always thought that June 10th is one of most perfect dates on a calendar.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Perspective among the pigs
I think I have been in this room too long – I am starting to notice things that aren’t really clean – like the switch plates (which were dirty with fingerprints and old paint)… after contemplating the issue briefly, I got out my wet wipes left over from the flight and cleaned them all… including scraping the old paint off. Taking ownership of my problems! It felt good!
I began at a school today – St Elizabeth’s School & Children’s Center – total school enrollment: 230; orphans: just over 100. The school was a bright contrast to others I’ve visited…clean classrooms, lots of projects going on – a bead-making group, a group that makes pencils out of recycled newspaper, and gardeners… they were growing kale from seed (they reminded me of the tomato seedlings you had in the library, Frank) and planting them in big bags when the plants were mature enough… then they sold the bagged kale, the pencils and the bead-work. Very industrious! The only thing that took me aback was the tour of the “kitchen” area and realizing that the inside, open pit toilets were in the same room as the kitchen… We (Makena, Charlene and a volunteer from Rotary Int’l) went to the school to ask permission to film part of a documentary on childhood trauma, psychosocial support and the value of a child’s self-esteem – all being done by a woman from NC who will arrive next week (I actually may get to be part of the film, on behalf of Reach-Out, if we can schedule time together). The school was more than happy to participate… while there, I was also able to get two more surveys completed – I’m up to 44… goal 50!
We parted ways after the school visit and I spent the rest of the day with Velma and one of the “community elders” making home visits… we went as far as I have ever been in Dandora – to the edge of the settlement where there were goats, pigs and cows and where I could see the Nairobi River below! In two of the homes we visited today, the parents were quite ill. While HIV is rampant here, antiretrovirals are available for free; so many people are “living positively” with HIV (the catch phrase for being HIV+, but not ill). In these two homes however, the primary caregiver was ill – both had AIDS, one had TB too. We visited, brought a bag of rice to one large family and were able to add more eligible families to our waiting list. I so hope PEPFAR comes through with more money in the fall!
I can’t even tell you how far we walked to find the third family – a mother living alone with a 14 year old boy who was normal until he was 8, then began developing seizures and then lost use of his legs. Today, his legs are extremely thin and he jerked constantly, sometimes severely during our visit (seemed like constant mini seizures). He responded to our requests, but was not really able to speak. The mother has never been told what is wrong with him. A faded referral form requested “physiotherapy” and Phenobarbital – she has never been able to afford either. The two just live alone in this distant one-room shack at the edge of the slum. The mother said her son dreams of returning to school and had some very noble career plan (that I just can’t seem to remember as I write). The young man was wearing a #23 basketball shirt – despite his dismal conditions, I was so inspired that he still had a dream.
An odd thing about our travels today – Velma began by saying we were going to the slum today on our visits. What is amazing is that this entire area, including Velma’s kiosk & home (which I saw today), I would consider squalor…trash, mud, trash, sewage, trash, pigs…but in her eyes, the distant area near the river was the slum… this area was her neighborhood. I could not even ask her questions about how she decided what was slum & what was not, without implying that I actually considered her area a slum too. Like the young man with the seizures, I admired the sense of self-worth and pride (in a good way) that Velma has.
I have discovered a new view from my room. If I sit in the chair where I have set up my computer, I look out the window & see the little shanty village below – rusted tin shacks, dirt, no grass… but yesterday, for the first time, I sat in the chair on the other side of the room (all of 2 feet away)… from there I look out the window into trees, flowers and part of a road filled with fast moving cars. I thought about perspective… you can be in the same place, but have different views… and you can choose what you want to see. I think this may have some deeper applications, but I am too tired to make them tonight. As I am writing this though, I think Velma and the young man with seizures may already understand the value of choosing their perspective. I think I mostly just want to make sure I am seeing all the views.
I began at a school today – St Elizabeth’s School & Children’s Center – total school enrollment: 230; orphans: just over 100. The school was a bright contrast to others I’ve visited…clean classrooms, lots of projects going on – a bead-making group, a group that makes pencils out of recycled newspaper, and gardeners… they were growing kale from seed (they reminded me of the tomato seedlings you had in the library, Frank) and planting them in big bags when the plants were mature enough… then they sold the bagged kale, the pencils and the bead-work. Very industrious! The only thing that took me aback was the tour of the “kitchen” area and realizing that the inside, open pit toilets were in the same room as the kitchen… We (Makena, Charlene and a volunteer from Rotary Int’l) went to the school to ask permission to film part of a documentary on childhood trauma, psychosocial support and the value of a child’s self-esteem – all being done by a woman from NC who will arrive next week (I actually may get to be part of the film, on behalf of Reach-Out, if we can schedule time together). The school was more than happy to participate… while there, I was also able to get two more surveys completed – I’m up to 44… goal 50!
We parted ways after the school visit and I spent the rest of the day with Velma and one of the “community elders” making home visits… we went as far as I have ever been in Dandora – to the edge of the settlement where there were goats, pigs and cows and where I could see the Nairobi River below! In two of the homes we visited today, the parents were quite ill. While HIV is rampant here, antiretrovirals are available for free; so many people are “living positively” with HIV (the catch phrase for being HIV+, but not ill). In these two homes however, the primary caregiver was ill – both had AIDS, one had TB too. We visited, brought a bag of rice to one large family and were able to add more eligible families to our waiting list. I so hope PEPFAR comes through with more money in the fall!
I can’t even tell you how far we walked to find the third family – a mother living alone with a 14 year old boy who was normal until he was 8, then began developing seizures and then lost use of his legs. Today, his legs are extremely thin and he jerked constantly, sometimes severely during our visit (seemed like constant mini seizures). He responded to our requests, but was not really able to speak. The mother has never been told what is wrong with him. A faded referral form requested “physiotherapy” and Phenobarbital – she has never been able to afford either. The two just live alone in this distant one-room shack at the edge of the slum. The mother said her son dreams of returning to school and had some very noble career plan (that I just can’t seem to remember as I write). The young man was wearing a #23 basketball shirt – despite his dismal conditions, I was so inspired that he still had a dream.
An odd thing about our travels today – Velma began by saying we were going to the slum today on our visits. What is amazing is that this entire area, including Velma’s kiosk & home (which I saw today), I would consider squalor…trash, mud, trash, sewage, trash, pigs…but in her eyes, the distant area near the river was the slum… this area was her neighborhood. I could not even ask her questions about how she decided what was slum & what was not, without implying that I actually considered her area a slum too. Like the young man with the seizures, I admired the sense of self-worth and pride (in a good way) that Velma has.
I have discovered a new view from my room. If I sit in the chair where I have set up my computer, I look out the window & see the little shanty village below – rusted tin shacks, dirt, no grass… but yesterday, for the first time, I sat in the chair on the other side of the room (all of 2 feet away)… from there I look out the window into trees, flowers and part of a road filled with fast moving cars. I thought about perspective… you can be in the same place, but have different views… and you can choose what you want to see. I think this may have some deeper applications, but I am too tired to make them tonight. As I am writing this though, I think Velma and the young man with seizures may already understand the value of choosing their perspective. I think I mostly just want to make sure I am seeing all the views.
Monday, June 8, 2009
Not all poverty is the same
Oh the relief of having internet again! I am so thankful for it… and am really thankful for so much here!
· The deep pink & purple bougainvillea that is blooming everywhere
· The yellow finches that I see every day as I wait for my ride
· My many drivers – I have learned so much about Kenyan life, history, politics, family, wildlife – and more - on our journeys to Dandora & back each day (today’s return home was a new record – almost 2 hours!... lots & lots of traffic)
· Bananas & avocadoes – I can be sure what I eat has not been touched by human hands! And the peels make great “plates” for any other food item I might have – since the insides are also completely clean.
· The warm hospitality of Kenyans - Zaire (the woman with the penthouse view of the entire Dandora dumpsite) has insisted that I stay with her on my next journey to Dandora… and she will likely be in Kisumu at her family’s home when we are there later this month. Frank, Meg, Jeanne, Peggy – we have an invitation to visit!
The trip to Dandora is becoming somewhat routine now … through the embassy area, through downtown Nairobi… and then either the “northern” or the “southern” route on to Dandora, depending on traffic. I now recognize certain petrol stations, the Moi Force Base (I think it’s an air force base), the section with all the goats, the section with all the furniture piled high in front of tiny shacks, the area where big dump trucks line the road waiting for hire for a day’s work, the woodsy area that became a temporary settlement area for people who escaped the deeper sections of the slums during the post-election violence – which is now being used by a French agency to house a “sack garden” program (since there is so little land in the slums, people purchase big sacks filled with dirt & a plant – usually some kind of greens – then just put the sack by their front door)… then, as we get closer to Dandora, the trash in the streets, the herds of pigs that share the walkways with school children & matatu’s, several schools, the small, square water tower, the street lined with shanty shops and so many people just milling around… the red & blue postal service office – then HOPE! In just two short weeks, I am feeling so comfortable with my new friends there… Today I walked alone from the 2nd floor HOPE office , down the stairs, outside & around the corner of the building to HOPE’s big meeting room below and I thought , there is no way I would have done this just a week ago!
Today began with a Care Team members meeting. This group is made up of all volunteers, most HIV+, who have been trained in palliative care for home-bound adults… and have also been trained in providing psychosocial support to the children in these homes. They keep a log of all their visits and work to identify needs within their region of oversight, and then meet once a month for mutual support and problem-solving. It is such a great way to help a community take ownership of both its problems and their solutions.
The director of a local children’s home heard that we were taking names for possible support of new families in the fall (news travels fast in the slum) and personally brought in two families he knew were in great need. I interviewed both & added them to our list. Just to give you a picture of this interview… there were probably ten people in the tiny HOPE office – I was at one plastic table seated with the mother, the children’s home director and another colleague were standing behind her… another volunteer was at the same table filing papers… at the adjacent table (there’s really not room to walk between the two tables) someone is working at the computer with hip hop Swahili music playing way too loud… Makena is behind the computer table talking to another family of 3 or 4 about an issue… it’s near bedlam, noise-wise! Soon after, Velma shoos everyone out and insists we have our morning tea & chapatti’s in quiet.
We spent the afternoon making two home visits to unsupported, but likely eligible families… and I again saw that poverty & destitution have levels. In the first home, we found a mother and her 5 children plus a 13 year old, totally orphaned girl, who the mother had taken into her home. The father of the 5 children was paralyzed in an accident and is no longer able to work – the mother sells vegetables. None of the children (ages 4 to 16) were in school because the mother could not afford school fees… their greatest needs? Food and rent and school fees. This was the better-off family we visited today.
We walked deeper into the slum – same sights (raw sewage in the streets, children playing next to chickens in the mud, countless vendors of unimaginable items…) and arrived at Agnes’s home. Her husband had been a boxer, who sounded as if he was brain-damaged and “went crazy”… he is no longer part of the family. Agnes has 4 children, including a one month old baby she has not yet named. She is HIV+ and will take the baby to a clinic in the next week or so to see if the baby is HIV+ as well – she had no money for medicines - or milk; she is breastfeeding the baby – a means of HIV transmission. Her two older daughters are 14 and 6. The older one seemed listless, quiet, and deeply sad – she passed her 8th grade exams last year, but there was no money for her to begin high school. She has been out of school for a year – and according to the mother, hardly ever leaves the house. We wondered depression? Or some worse trauma? The younger girl was also out of school – but bright and captivating… like a little elf. Then the youngest boy – runny nose, deep cough…. his whole little chest heaved with every breath and you could see his heart beating through his chest – he was very seriously ill. No money for the doctor or for medicine even if she went to the doctor.
We took the mother and the baby back to the HOPE office; because all of HOPE’s medical clinic funding has been used for the year, I gave her 600 KS (less than $10) – to cover both the doctor’s visit and any medicine prescribed. So many of you have reminded me that all any of us can do is to help one child at a time, the one child in front of us. Hopefully this little guy will have more time. Makena was deeply touched by the challenges this family faces on so many fronts. While HOPE’s educational funding has also been exhausted, she has committed to find funding somewhere to allow the older girl back in school – and we referred both girls to the Kids Clubs and the smaller support groups for children with HIV+ parents. Again I thought - I am looking at children who will likely be total orphans within the next few years…. Can school, HOPE, and Kids Club be enough to support them through the rest of their childhoods?
· The deep pink & purple bougainvillea that is blooming everywhere
· The yellow finches that I see every day as I wait for my ride
· My many drivers – I have learned so much about Kenyan life, history, politics, family, wildlife – and more - on our journeys to Dandora & back each day (today’s return home was a new record – almost 2 hours!... lots & lots of traffic)
· Bananas & avocadoes – I can be sure what I eat has not been touched by human hands! And the peels make great “plates” for any other food item I might have – since the insides are also completely clean.
· The warm hospitality of Kenyans - Zaire (the woman with the penthouse view of the entire Dandora dumpsite) has insisted that I stay with her on my next journey to Dandora… and she will likely be in Kisumu at her family’s home when we are there later this month. Frank, Meg, Jeanne, Peggy – we have an invitation to visit!
The trip to Dandora is becoming somewhat routine now … through the embassy area, through downtown Nairobi… and then either the “northern” or the “southern” route on to Dandora, depending on traffic. I now recognize certain petrol stations, the Moi Force Base (I think it’s an air force base), the section with all the goats, the section with all the furniture piled high in front of tiny shacks, the area where big dump trucks line the road waiting for hire for a day’s work, the woodsy area that became a temporary settlement area for people who escaped the deeper sections of the slums during the post-election violence – which is now being used by a French agency to house a “sack garden” program (since there is so little land in the slums, people purchase big sacks filled with dirt & a plant – usually some kind of greens – then just put the sack by their front door)… then, as we get closer to Dandora, the trash in the streets, the herds of pigs that share the walkways with school children & matatu’s, several schools, the small, square water tower, the street lined with shanty shops and so many people just milling around… the red & blue postal service office – then HOPE! In just two short weeks, I am feeling so comfortable with my new friends there… Today I walked alone from the 2nd floor HOPE office , down the stairs, outside & around the corner of the building to HOPE’s big meeting room below and I thought , there is no way I would have done this just a week ago!
Today began with a Care Team members meeting. This group is made up of all volunteers, most HIV+, who have been trained in palliative care for home-bound adults… and have also been trained in providing psychosocial support to the children in these homes. They keep a log of all their visits and work to identify needs within their region of oversight, and then meet once a month for mutual support and problem-solving. It is such a great way to help a community take ownership of both its problems and their solutions.
The director of a local children’s home heard that we were taking names for possible support of new families in the fall (news travels fast in the slum) and personally brought in two families he knew were in great need. I interviewed both & added them to our list. Just to give you a picture of this interview… there were probably ten people in the tiny HOPE office – I was at one plastic table seated with the mother, the children’s home director and another colleague were standing behind her… another volunteer was at the same table filing papers… at the adjacent table (there’s really not room to walk between the two tables) someone is working at the computer with hip hop Swahili music playing way too loud… Makena is behind the computer table talking to another family of 3 or 4 about an issue… it’s near bedlam, noise-wise! Soon after, Velma shoos everyone out and insists we have our morning tea & chapatti’s in quiet.
We spent the afternoon making two home visits to unsupported, but likely eligible families… and I again saw that poverty & destitution have levels. In the first home, we found a mother and her 5 children plus a 13 year old, totally orphaned girl, who the mother had taken into her home. The father of the 5 children was paralyzed in an accident and is no longer able to work – the mother sells vegetables. None of the children (ages 4 to 16) were in school because the mother could not afford school fees… their greatest needs? Food and rent and school fees. This was the better-off family we visited today.
We walked deeper into the slum – same sights (raw sewage in the streets, children playing next to chickens in the mud, countless vendors of unimaginable items…) and arrived at Agnes’s home. Her husband had been a boxer, who sounded as if he was brain-damaged and “went crazy”… he is no longer part of the family. Agnes has 4 children, including a one month old baby she has not yet named. She is HIV+ and will take the baby to a clinic in the next week or so to see if the baby is HIV+ as well – she had no money for medicines - or milk; she is breastfeeding the baby – a means of HIV transmission. Her two older daughters are 14 and 6. The older one seemed listless, quiet, and deeply sad – she passed her 8th grade exams last year, but there was no money for her to begin high school. She has been out of school for a year – and according to the mother, hardly ever leaves the house. We wondered depression? Or some worse trauma? The younger girl was also out of school – but bright and captivating… like a little elf. Then the youngest boy – runny nose, deep cough…. his whole little chest heaved with every breath and you could see his heart beating through his chest – he was very seriously ill. No money for the doctor or for medicine even if she went to the doctor.
We took the mother and the baby back to the HOPE office; because all of HOPE’s medical clinic funding has been used for the year, I gave her 600 KS (less than $10) – to cover both the doctor’s visit and any medicine prescribed. So many of you have reminded me that all any of us can do is to help one child at a time, the one child in front of us. Hopefully this little guy will have more time. Makena was deeply touched by the challenges this family faces on so many fronts. While HOPE’s educational funding has also been exhausted, she has committed to find funding somewhere to allow the older girl back in school – and we referred both girls to the Kids Clubs and the smaller support groups for children with HIV+ parents. Again I thought - I am looking at children who will likely be total orphans within the next few years…. Can school, HOPE, and Kids Club be enough to support them through the rest of their childhoods?
No internet; ginger tea instead
Sunday… a day of rest … and I welcomed it. I taught a class on the family of God to the women at church today, then a second class on “parenting” to the mothers of teens and preteens. I was so reminded of how similar the challenges we mothers face, no matter where we live (bickering siblings, disrespectful teens, dating issues…)! I declined several offers for lunch, just so I could have an afternoon of rest (I had only taken one day off in the last 2 weeks) – and time to work on my next paper for school.
Unfortunately the internet has been down all evening, so I have been in a room with no TV, no internet, no radio… and I’ve read the few books I brought. Such solitude - it’s really been kind of nice, except for the nagging thought that “I have work to do!”
Monica called around 6 and had some food for me – she stopped by with containers of chicken, rice, watermelon – and a thermos of ginger tea. She sat down & had tea with me for about ½ hour, while Jimmy went to put gas in their car. Such a delightful time! I heard stories of her unexpected pregnancy at 43 – and her new dream of working with Alzheimer’s Awareness in Kenya. Like my “hidden children” in Dandora, Alzheimer’s has evidently created a world of “hidden adults” in Africa. Monica has already started one support group for caregivers and is working on a second and has applied for a grant which will fund “Alzheimer’s Awareness” projects. She has a degree in anthropology and is hoping to go back to get a public health degree – so we are bonded for life!
Hope to have internet by morning… the front desk said anytime they have electrical outages (even brief ones), the internet is affected. The “electrician” will be here in the morning… The last time I was without the internet, I think it was the first week I was here, it was just for part of one evening, but I was so alarmed (like I couldn’t stay here if I didn’t have this connection to home)… but I think I am becoming more “Kenyan” already; so many things do not go as planned and I have been able to tell myself tonight that “it will be ok in the morning”… so lala salama…
Unfortunately the internet has been down all evening, so I have been in a room with no TV, no internet, no radio… and I’ve read the few books I brought. Such solitude - it’s really been kind of nice, except for the nagging thought that “I have work to do!”
Monica called around 6 and had some food for me – she stopped by with containers of chicken, rice, watermelon – and a thermos of ginger tea. She sat down & had tea with me for about ½ hour, while Jimmy went to put gas in their car. Such a delightful time! I heard stories of her unexpected pregnancy at 43 – and her new dream of working with Alzheimer’s Awareness in Kenya. Like my “hidden children” in Dandora, Alzheimer’s has evidently created a world of “hidden adults” in Africa. Monica has already started one support group for caregivers and is working on a second and has applied for a grant which will fund “Alzheimer’s Awareness” projects. She has a degree in anthropology and is hoping to go back to get a public health degree – so we are bonded for life!
Hope to have internet by morning… the front desk said anytime they have electrical outages (even brief ones), the internet is affected. The “electrician” will be here in the morning… The last time I was without the internet, I think it was the first week I was here, it was just for part of one evening, but I was so alarmed (like I couldn’t stay here if I didn’t have this connection to home)… but I think I am becoming more “Kenyan” already; so many things do not go as planned and I have been able to tell myself tonight that “it will be ok in the morning”… so lala salama…
Saturday, June 6, 2009
Delicious Awesome God in hot pink
Wow – today marks the half way point of my Dandora internship… two weeks down, two weeks to go (then two final weeks in Kisumu). Home seems so far away, yet the days are flying by! Today was Saturday, but I went to work specifically to see one of the Saturday Kids Clubs (you can guess… this was Velma’s club & she wanted me to meet her group).
I spent the morning interviewing more “unserved” families, all of whom were eligible for some type of support… all I could promise, however, was a spot on the waiting list for the funding expected in September. I know many of these families had walked a distance (& then had to wait) for this interview, so I asked Velma to purchase a big bag of oranges to hand out – to thank them for coming in… and to make it not so bad that we really had nothing immediate to offer. The oranges were a big hit – wish I’d thought of that earlier (really better than candy – my usual give-away!). In the process of interviewing, I remembered a study in which the researchers used the answer to “when did you last eat a meal?” as a measure of someone’s poverty level… I asked that to several of the families and the answer was yesterday, the day before yesterday… I can’t even imagine. No wonder the oranges were so appreciated.
Velma’s Kids Club (the Terminus Kids Club… I thought the name was a little morbid, until I realized her section of Dandora was were all the buses & matatu’s terminated their routes…Terminus). There must have been 50 or more children there – just a big dingy hall below the HOPE office with the ever-present plastic chairs…. absolutely nothing else in the room or on the walls. We were “honored guests” and received a gracious welcome from the Club’s “chairman”, then were treated to songs & poetry recitations by the children – who must have ranged from about 3 to 17. The performances were wonderful… but the lyrics to most of the poetry were troubling – all about AIDS, losing parents & family members, loneliness. But AIDS is such a real & present part of these children’s lives – I am glad they have a forum in which they can share thoughts & emotions and be understood by their peers.
Small update on my “room with a view” village – I saw a white man sitting at a table outside a house tonight. I was surprised at how surprised I was by the site! I must look equally out of place. And the beautiful stone fireplace adjacent to the market is just gone today! The stones must have been needed elsewhere… seems a loss.
While matatu’s are still everywhere in Nairobi, a new larger bus line has also been added – kind of half way between the van-like matatu’s and a full sized bus. They are individually owned – and are marketed via their paint schemes – and they are wild!!! The buses are colors like hot pink, purple, & bright yellow, and then have airbrushed images on them of unimaginable creatures, celebrities and movie stars (I can’t imagine that Brittany Spears & Tyra Banks know they are on these buses!)… and then the names…Vaccine, Life is a School, Fiasco, Thank U Lord, Backlash, Dogg Father, Vision 2030 (guess he was hoping his paint job would last a really long time!), Youngest in Charge, Delicious Awesome God, Cheddar, Daily Dose, Emirates, DImples… so random, so crazy…. Some names unprintable. And like the matatu’s, they sometimes drive on the sidewalk if traffic is jammed.
Solomon, one of my regular drivers (& always in a very normal vehicle), brought me a guidebook for Kenya and a detailed street map of Nairobi this morning - Frank, you’ll be so proud that I am learning street names & directions.
I’m looking forward to Sunday & a day off from Dandora. I continue troubled in my heart by all I see and am unsure what next steps to take… glad I have another year in school to figure that out.
I spent the morning interviewing more “unserved” families, all of whom were eligible for some type of support… all I could promise, however, was a spot on the waiting list for the funding expected in September. I know many of these families had walked a distance (& then had to wait) for this interview, so I asked Velma to purchase a big bag of oranges to hand out – to thank them for coming in… and to make it not so bad that we really had nothing immediate to offer. The oranges were a big hit – wish I’d thought of that earlier (really better than candy – my usual give-away!). In the process of interviewing, I remembered a study in which the researchers used the answer to “when did you last eat a meal?” as a measure of someone’s poverty level… I asked that to several of the families and the answer was yesterday, the day before yesterday… I can’t even imagine. No wonder the oranges were so appreciated.
Velma’s Kids Club (the Terminus Kids Club… I thought the name was a little morbid, until I realized her section of Dandora was were all the buses & matatu’s terminated their routes…Terminus). There must have been 50 or more children there – just a big dingy hall below the HOPE office with the ever-present plastic chairs…. absolutely nothing else in the room or on the walls. We were “honored guests” and received a gracious welcome from the Club’s “chairman”, then were treated to songs & poetry recitations by the children – who must have ranged from about 3 to 17. The performances were wonderful… but the lyrics to most of the poetry were troubling – all about AIDS, losing parents & family members, loneliness. But AIDS is such a real & present part of these children’s lives – I am glad they have a forum in which they can share thoughts & emotions and be understood by their peers.
Small update on my “room with a view” village – I saw a white man sitting at a table outside a house tonight. I was surprised at how surprised I was by the site! I must look equally out of place. And the beautiful stone fireplace adjacent to the market is just gone today! The stones must have been needed elsewhere… seems a loss.
While matatu’s are still everywhere in Nairobi, a new larger bus line has also been added – kind of half way between the van-like matatu’s and a full sized bus. They are individually owned – and are marketed via their paint schemes – and they are wild!!! The buses are colors like hot pink, purple, & bright yellow, and then have airbrushed images on them of unimaginable creatures, celebrities and movie stars (I can’t imagine that Brittany Spears & Tyra Banks know they are on these buses!)… and then the names…Vaccine, Life is a School, Fiasco, Thank U Lord, Backlash, Dogg Father, Vision 2030 (guess he was hoping his paint job would last a really long time!), Youngest in Charge, Delicious Awesome God, Cheddar, Daily Dose, Emirates, DImples… so random, so crazy…. Some names unprintable. And like the matatu’s, they sometimes drive on the sidewalk if traffic is jammed.
Solomon, one of my regular drivers (& always in a very normal vehicle), brought me a guidebook for Kenya and a detailed street map of Nairobi this morning - Frank, you’ll be so proud that I am learning street names & directions.
I’m looking forward to Sunday & a day off from Dandora. I continue troubled in my heart by all I see and am unsure what next steps to take… glad I have another year in school to figure that out.
Friday, June 5, 2009
Lala salama
This morning started a little slowly – transportation was double booked – so I was late getting picked up and missed the caregivers who had come in early to complete the “survey”. Charles helped with them in my absence(he had done all the others with me – and obviously is a better communicator than I am anyhow!). In just 3 days we’ve done 29 surveys – so I am hopeful we’ll have no trouble getting Kennedy’s goal of 50, my goal of 60 (& perhaps Charles’ new goal of 75-100) over the next two weeks.
Velma was ready to hit the ground running for home visits when I finally arrived – practically scolded me for being late (in fun, I think… humor is really hard to grasp, cross-culturally, though) – so off we ran for the entire remainder of the day. While yesterday’s images were painfully clear, today’s already are a blur… an 18 year old girl who could not speak went on our special needs list…a bright young boy (total orphan) with sickle-cell anemia went on both lists (unserved OVC’s & special needs) – his illness has left him unable to walk & out of school. Then to a mother of 8 who lost her husband last year… her son had been in a accident that sent him to Kenyatta Hosp of for 3 months when he was 6 years old… his ankle & lower leg are horribly scarred and his big toe is separated from the rest of the toes and bends completely under his foot (how could a hospital send a child home with such a disability that leaves him able to walk only with great difficulty… lack of money, perhaps?). The mother has never been told what happened in the accident & the boy either doesn’t remember or cannot talk about it. Then to a school full of bright children (Habari? Habari? Habari?... I think I shook a thousand little hands!). The teachers at the school were very helpful and had 3 children they specifically wanted us to see – all special needs of one sort or another. The children were all in regular classrooms, but two significantly delayed… none currently paying school fees. My limited experience is that schools rarely allow a child to stay in school once a payment is missed – these were very kind and caring teachers. Then off to two more schools – the first was the Ronald Ngara school (where we had previously visited the special needs kids)… Velma made arrangements with the headmaster to have the parents of several children come to the HOPE ofc tomorrow to be put on our “unserved OVC list”… the headmaster insisted that I sign his guest book again… then onto a final school where we met with a number of vulnerable children and asked that they come with their parents tomorrow too – again, to be put on the unserved OVC list.
Velma is a real go-getter… she’s a big woman with a big heart & I think knows everyone in Dandora & is intimidated by no one. She is helping me learn Kiswahili & proudly tells most everyone we meet that she is my teacher (mwalimu)… and she actually gives me work to learn at night & checks on me the next day. Our final stop before getting back to the HOPE office was her little café. She insisted I at least taste her porridge in the calabash (what she called a big dried gourd, cut like a great big spoon). I have eaten porridge several times and am not real fond of it, especially out of a dried gourd… but there is no saying “no” to Velma. I took a fake drink – and managed to get my hair in the porridge – a big section was hard & sticky the rest of the day. Back to the office – evidently the electricity had been out for much of the afternoon; Makena had a grant report due today & was very upset that she could not complete it. Again….things often do not go as planned in this Kenyan world.
Other stories (ordering school shoes, my list of words from the screen-printed lettering on the new city minibuses, and the note on fear) will have to wait for another time. It’s been a long week & I am falling asleep as I write. Lala salama (good night)… Velma would be proud of me.
Velma was ready to hit the ground running for home visits when I finally arrived – practically scolded me for being late (in fun, I think… humor is really hard to grasp, cross-culturally, though) – so off we ran for the entire remainder of the day. While yesterday’s images were painfully clear, today’s already are a blur… an 18 year old girl who could not speak went on our special needs list…a bright young boy (total orphan) with sickle-cell anemia went on both lists (unserved OVC’s & special needs) – his illness has left him unable to walk & out of school. Then to a mother of 8 who lost her husband last year… her son had been in a accident that sent him to Kenyatta Hosp of for 3 months when he was 6 years old… his ankle & lower leg are horribly scarred and his big toe is separated from the rest of the toes and bends completely under his foot (how could a hospital send a child home with such a disability that leaves him able to walk only with great difficulty… lack of money, perhaps?). The mother has never been told what happened in the accident & the boy either doesn’t remember or cannot talk about it. Then to a school full of bright children (Habari? Habari? Habari?... I think I shook a thousand little hands!). The teachers at the school were very helpful and had 3 children they specifically wanted us to see – all special needs of one sort or another. The children were all in regular classrooms, but two significantly delayed… none currently paying school fees. My limited experience is that schools rarely allow a child to stay in school once a payment is missed – these were very kind and caring teachers. Then off to two more schools – the first was the Ronald Ngara school (where we had previously visited the special needs kids)… Velma made arrangements with the headmaster to have the parents of several children come to the HOPE ofc tomorrow to be put on our “unserved OVC list”… the headmaster insisted that I sign his guest book again… then onto a final school where we met with a number of vulnerable children and asked that they come with their parents tomorrow too – again, to be put on the unserved OVC list.
Velma is a real go-getter… she’s a big woman with a big heart & I think knows everyone in Dandora & is intimidated by no one. She is helping me learn Kiswahili & proudly tells most everyone we meet that she is my teacher (mwalimu)… and she actually gives me work to learn at night & checks on me the next day. Our final stop before getting back to the HOPE office was her little café. She insisted I at least taste her porridge in the calabash (what she called a big dried gourd, cut like a great big spoon). I have eaten porridge several times and am not real fond of it, especially out of a dried gourd… but there is no saying “no” to Velma. I took a fake drink – and managed to get my hair in the porridge – a big section was hard & sticky the rest of the day. Back to the office – evidently the electricity had been out for much of the afternoon; Makena had a grant report due today & was very upset that she could not complete it. Again….things often do not go as planned in this Kenyan world.
Other stories (ordering school shoes, my list of words from the screen-printed lettering on the new city minibuses, and the note on fear) will have to wait for another time. It’s been a long week & I am falling asleep as I write. Lala salama (good night)… Velma would be proud of me.
Thursday, June 4, 2009
A Matatu ... and tears
Lots of emotions today… I am doing exactly what I want to be doing, but my heart is breaking as I hear the stories & see the lives of the people of Dandora.
Today started out with home visits to 3 children we had learned about through the grapevine… one child likely eligible for HOPE services, but not enrolled and two children with disabilities. Off with Zaire, a very dark, stout Muslim woman with beautiful gold draped clothing… who was a Care Team leader for her section of Dandora. She swept through the streets lined with garbage and running sewage and we walked quickly to keep up with her. She led us into a concrete block building and down a few steps into the pitch dark and down a corridor (I was only following by sound – I could see absolutely nothing & just hoped I didn’t step on or into anything… I had another of those “what in the world am I doing here?” moments). We came to a doorway (which I could not see), covered only by a sheet (which I only felt)& walked into a tiny room (home). Concrete block – no windows… the only light was a single open-flamed candle sitting on a shelf (no candle holder, no glass covering it... just an open candle). Inside was a stepmother with a young baby and a 9 year old boy, who was the orphan… he lost his mother several years ago, and had been out of school since he was seven – no money, no resources, no income, no light… never did my eyes adjust enough to see more than a dark outline of the family. Neither child had ever been registered at birth, so technically did not exist in the eyes of the Kenyan government. How hidden, literally & figuratively, can a child be? We took their information, will help the children get registered and will hopefully get Owen back in school – & into the daylight!
From there, Zaire took us to her home, which ironically was on the 6th floor of the same building Owen lived in – but somehow Zaire had resources… a locked from gate/door opened into a bright, spacious home…. she had multiple rooms in her home, comfortable furniture (each seat & back carefully covered with a white cloth)… she has children & grandchildren, a husband who was quite articulate and welcoming – and an interesting view… a large window in her living room gives a panoramic view of Dandora’s waste dump… all 30 acres of it… some areas smoking…others just raw waste… a little grass covering the older trash. She then took us up to the roof, where we could see everything… including women and children walking over the garbage, scavenging for food and items to use or sell… and another herd of the biggest pigs I have ever seen, galloping across the dump. Zaire pointed out a school adjacent to the dump – lots of children in the playground behind the school. There was a wall separating the schoolyard & dump, but Zaire told us it was relatively new… prior to the wall, the children used the dump as part of their playground. Charles pointed out a section of the dump that has a reputation for being a hot pit of smoldering, liquid trash… rumor has it that you can be lost forever if you step near that pit. And the Mugiki throw their enemies there. Creepy – I’ll stay away.
From that happy place, we went down the street & Zaire hailed a matatu for us – it was one of those days where I wanted to say, “wait… I was never going to do this!”… but seconds later I found myself in a matatu with a dozen other people & very thankful I knew the people on either side of me… we rode for about 10 minutes (the ride was as crazy as you might expect) and arrived to another site in Dandora, this time to visit a mother with two special needs children. This time, the home was again very small, simple wood & tin – but inside was bright & clean. Again, almost no room to sit – a bunk bed, sewing machine and small bench basically took up the entire floor space of the room. Here we met Jane and her two sons – and here was the first time I cried in Dandora. Jane was a beautiful woman in her 30’s, soft-spoken, a warm smile and tender spirit about her. Her oldest son was 17 and lying in almost a fetal position on the ground on a soft mat outside the door when we entered – he was unable to walk, sit or move himself; his hands & feet were severely contracted; but he greeted us with a smile and said hello. Her younger son, 7 years old, was able to walk, although his hands, feet & legs feet were distorted; he could not speak however and drooled continually; I would guess had some kind of retardation or developmental delays. She had been told that “neither boy cried immediately when they were born and that affected their brains”… I am guessing CP for the older boy, that plus something else for the younger son. The boys were both immaculately cared for. The older boy had no “bed sores” and despite the fact that he was also incontinent, his skin was soft & he was completely clean, even to his nails.
Jane told us her story – softly, no self-pity – her first husband abandoned her after it was apparent that their newborn son had problems - before the baby boy even came home from the hospital. When the medical bills grew, her own family shunned her. Just a few years later, she married again and had a daughter who is normal, in school and living outside Nairobi with other family members. Then she had her final son. When it became apparent that the younger son also had problems, this boy’s dad said “Your stomach is the one producing these things…” and he also abandoned her. Her struggles? Things like how to shop for food while carrying her 17 year old on her back (years ago an agency gave her a wheelchair, but it is now broken)… how to get schooling or medical help for her boys… how to grow her sewing business when she cannot leave the boys alone. She did not ask for food or money – she just wanted an opportunity to work in a way that would allow her to provide for her sons, whom she obviously loved deeply. The burdens of life in this slum just seem deeper & deeper… just when you think you’ve seen the worst, another person comes along with another story of life which, through no fault of their own (like Jane and her sons – or the little boy in the Ngara school who was not only a completely orphaned, waste dump/slum dweller, but also mentally retarded) is so utterly difficult that the disparity, the injustice is overwhelming. Why are their lives like their lives & why is mine like mine?
OK, more tears… but we are going back to see what business plan we can help Jane with… she showed us the things she sews – sweet clothing, diapers & mats for babies, carefully packed & tied for sale.
And then today, I also saw a mother cry – the first time I had seen tears in the slum. Her son is Victor. Interestingly I had seen Victor’s picture before I had even come to Kenya - early on, when I was googling all I could find about Dandora, I found a site by a professional photojournalist, who had evidently done some work with HOPE & had posted his pictures online. Victor’s picture was among those posted & I found him captivating and the story about his twisted legs compelling. Then, the very first day I was in Dandora, Victor (maybe 10-12 yo) walked in the office (using crutches) with a friend. Funny, bright, friendly. Makena wanted me to see his foot – so Victor took his sturdy school shoe off - & I didn’t even know what I was looking at – I quickly realized the black I was looking at was not part of the shoe, but his grossly swollen foot with a red, weeping center & what may have been bone – gruesome & the odor was sickening. I can’t imagine how he walked; it was either excruciating or the tissue was so dead the feeling was lost. He put his shoe back on & left as brightly & quickly as he had come.
Today, Victor’s mother was in… I think there are so many “issues” to deal with (food, shelter, clothing, school fees) that most people don’t ever get asked how they are feeling about things. Makena brought Victor’s mom in just to talk and soon this strong mother was in tears – not self-pity tears… more like grieving tears…not a lot, but enough to stop talking. No money, no answers from doctors, no hope for getting a second opinion…one surgery left Victor incontinent, so he stuffs rags in his clothing so he can continue in school. Kevin B will be here soon – so I could likely get him a medical assessment by one of the best – but I doubt this is a one antibiotic cure illness… and who will cover things after Kevin is gone? More deep & troubling questions… the value of a life. Makena left quickly after Victor’s mother left… I think she was crying too.
I go to bed somewhat heavy-hearted tonight, but eager to return tomorrow (so don’t worry about me, Frank!) ...and thinking about the remarkable strength and resilience of the people I am meeting.
Today started out with home visits to 3 children we had learned about through the grapevine… one child likely eligible for HOPE services, but not enrolled and two children with disabilities. Off with Zaire, a very dark, stout Muslim woman with beautiful gold draped clothing… who was a Care Team leader for her section of Dandora. She swept through the streets lined with garbage and running sewage and we walked quickly to keep up with her. She led us into a concrete block building and down a few steps into the pitch dark and down a corridor (I was only following by sound – I could see absolutely nothing & just hoped I didn’t step on or into anything… I had another of those “what in the world am I doing here?” moments). We came to a doorway (which I could not see), covered only by a sheet (which I only felt)& walked into a tiny room (home). Concrete block – no windows… the only light was a single open-flamed candle sitting on a shelf (no candle holder, no glass covering it... just an open candle). Inside was a stepmother with a young baby and a 9 year old boy, who was the orphan… he lost his mother several years ago, and had been out of school since he was seven – no money, no resources, no income, no light… never did my eyes adjust enough to see more than a dark outline of the family. Neither child had ever been registered at birth, so technically did not exist in the eyes of the Kenyan government. How hidden, literally & figuratively, can a child be? We took their information, will help the children get registered and will hopefully get Owen back in school – & into the daylight!
From there, Zaire took us to her home, which ironically was on the 6th floor of the same building Owen lived in – but somehow Zaire had resources… a locked from gate/door opened into a bright, spacious home…. she had multiple rooms in her home, comfortable furniture (each seat & back carefully covered with a white cloth)… she has children & grandchildren, a husband who was quite articulate and welcoming – and an interesting view… a large window in her living room gives a panoramic view of Dandora’s waste dump… all 30 acres of it… some areas smoking…others just raw waste… a little grass covering the older trash. She then took us up to the roof, where we could see everything… including women and children walking over the garbage, scavenging for food and items to use or sell… and another herd of the biggest pigs I have ever seen, galloping across the dump. Zaire pointed out a school adjacent to the dump – lots of children in the playground behind the school. There was a wall separating the schoolyard & dump, but Zaire told us it was relatively new… prior to the wall, the children used the dump as part of their playground. Charles pointed out a section of the dump that has a reputation for being a hot pit of smoldering, liquid trash… rumor has it that you can be lost forever if you step near that pit. And the Mugiki throw their enemies there. Creepy – I’ll stay away.
From that happy place, we went down the street & Zaire hailed a matatu for us – it was one of those days where I wanted to say, “wait… I was never going to do this!”… but seconds later I found myself in a matatu with a dozen other people & very thankful I knew the people on either side of me… we rode for about 10 minutes (the ride was as crazy as you might expect) and arrived to another site in Dandora, this time to visit a mother with two special needs children. This time, the home was again very small, simple wood & tin – but inside was bright & clean. Again, almost no room to sit – a bunk bed, sewing machine and small bench basically took up the entire floor space of the room. Here we met Jane and her two sons – and here was the first time I cried in Dandora. Jane was a beautiful woman in her 30’s, soft-spoken, a warm smile and tender spirit about her. Her oldest son was 17 and lying in almost a fetal position on the ground on a soft mat outside the door when we entered – he was unable to walk, sit or move himself; his hands & feet were severely contracted; but he greeted us with a smile and said hello. Her younger son, 7 years old, was able to walk, although his hands, feet & legs feet were distorted; he could not speak however and drooled continually; I would guess had some kind of retardation or developmental delays. She had been told that “neither boy cried immediately when they were born and that affected their brains”… I am guessing CP for the older boy, that plus something else for the younger son. The boys were both immaculately cared for. The older boy had no “bed sores” and despite the fact that he was also incontinent, his skin was soft & he was completely clean, even to his nails.
Jane told us her story – softly, no self-pity – her first husband abandoned her after it was apparent that their newborn son had problems - before the baby boy even came home from the hospital. When the medical bills grew, her own family shunned her. Just a few years later, she married again and had a daughter who is normal, in school and living outside Nairobi with other family members. Then she had her final son. When it became apparent that the younger son also had problems, this boy’s dad said “Your stomach is the one producing these things…” and he also abandoned her. Her struggles? Things like how to shop for food while carrying her 17 year old on her back (years ago an agency gave her a wheelchair, but it is now broken)… how to get schooling or medical help for her boys… how to grow her sewing business when she cannot leave the boys alone. She did not ask for food or money – she just wanted an opportunity to work in a way that would allow her to provide for her sons, whom she obviously loved deeply. The burdens of life in this slum just seem deeper & deeper… just when you think you’ve seen the worst, another person comes along with another story of life which, through no fault of their own (like Jane and her sons – or the little boy in the Ngara school who was not only a completely orphaned, waste dump/slum dweller, but also mentally retarded) is so utterly difficult that the disparity, the injustice is overwhelming. Why are their lives like their lives & why is mine like mine?
OK, more tears… but we are going back to see what business plan we can help Jane with… she showed us the things she sews – sweet clothing, diapers & mats for babies, carefully packed & tied for sale.
And then today, I also saw a mother cry – the first time I had seen tears in the slum. Her son is Victor. Interestingly I had seen Victor’s picture before I had even come to Kenya - early on, when I was googling all I could find about Dandora, I found a site by a professional photojournalist, who had evidently done some work with HOPE & had posted his pictures online. Victor’s picture was among those posted & I found him captivating and the story about his twisted legs compelling. Then, the very first day I was in Dandora, Victor (maybe 10-12 yo) walked in the office (using crutches) with a friend. Funny, bright, friendly. Makena wanted me to see his foot – so Victor took his sturdy school shoe off - & I didn’t even know what I was looking at – I quickly realized the black I was looking at was not part of the shoe, but his grossly swollen foot with a red, weeping center & what may have been bone – gruesome & the odor was sickening. I can’t imagine how he walked; it was either excruciating or the tissue was so dead the feeling was lost. He put his shoe back on & left as brightly & quickly as he had come.
Today, Victor’s mother was in… I think there are so many “issues” to deal with (food, shelter, clothing, school fees) that most people don’t ever get asked how they are feeling about things. Makena brought Victor’s mom in just to talk and soon this strong mother was in tears – not self-pity tears… more like grieving tears…not a lot, but enough to stop talking. No money, no answers from doctors, no hope for getting a second opinion…one surgery left Victor incontinent, so he stuffs rags in his clothing so he can continue in school. Kevin B will be here soon – so I could likely get him a medical assessment by one of the best – but I doubt this is a one antibiotic cure illness… and who will cover things after Kevin is gone? More deep & troubling questions… the value of a life. Makena left quickly after Victor’s mother left… I think she was crying too.
I go to bed somewhat heavy-hearted tonight, but eager to return tomorrow (so don’t worry about me, Frank!) ...and thinking about the remarkable strength and resilience of the people I am meeting.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
