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.