The first night was only a few short hours and day 1 was hectic. So was day 2, but at least you will get to meet the cast of characters and get a little taste for what my life has become. The life that is polar opposite to the one that I knew only a week ago, and the life that I have already come to love (if you cant tell, the first few posts are written in retrospect, as a catch-up). I promise 3 things in this blog: I will try my hardest not to be preachy, you all know that Africa is poverty stricken and I refuse to act holier than thou because I realize that being here is a drop of water in an ocean. My stories may not all be happy, but they are not meant to be depressing, they are just experiences that I think are important. 2) I will try to tell the truth without exaggerating (as my dad says, divide what I say by pi and you will get the truth, but my African stories need no exaggeration, that is for sure) ANND 3) you will be entertained. I am a storyteller in a country of storytellers, a place that is boiling over with culture, rhythm and flavor. It’s going to be a wild ride and I’m excited to share it… assuming anyone is still reading!
Day 2 started off as an orientation and ended with the introduction to my new family, friends and town.
Orientation was a blast. We met the Fadhili Community staff and they sang us a song in Swahili (look for the link on facebook, I didn’t record it but someone did and they said they would tag everyone). Needless to say, it was AWESOME! We talked about our placements and ran through all of the guidelines to a safe and productive Kenya trip (which strangely enough was a lot more extensive than the one that we got in London study abroad when Mary Hall told us we all were going to die in London, so just accept it). We talked about the different trips available. Safari to Maasai Mara and Lake Nakuru, day trips to Kazuri (bead and pottery market made by local women), Nairobi National Park and Animal Orphanage (views of wildlife with the backdrop of Nairobi’s sky scrapers) and my personal favorite, the monkey park aptly named “den of thieves”. We also talked about the Outreach program (much more on that shortly). Last, but definitely not least we talked about the different placements throughout Kenya, in Nairobi, Mombasa and Maasai. I came to Kenya planning on spending about a month and a half in Nairobi and a month and a half in Mombasa, but after hearing the stories from the Maasai placement I think I am going to change my trip around. The Maasai are a tribe in southern and central Kenya, and the placement is in the middle of the wild, living the life of a maasai tribesman (no water, electricity etc etc etc) and teaching in a local school there. There are no worries about muggings, violence and pickpocketing in the Maasai, but your biggest worry at night are the hyenas and lions that have been known to prowl the Maasai territories… Sounds like a ridiculous time and an absolute adventure, how can I turn that down? One of the few things that I know about Maasai men is that to become a man (this practice is still used in some of the more traditional tribesman) they have to go out on their own and kill a lion using only a spear and a knife. They are also known to be the most peaceful and accepting tribe in Kenya…. Good to know, I definitely want the lion killer on my side if a fight breaks out… We got our placements, I was placed as a teacher in Ngong (a town just outside the city) and found out that I was going to be living with a woman named Naomi, other than that, the placement remained a mystery. We then got a short tea and food break and some time to stretch and relax.
Then I went to the bathroom…
Not the best, not the worst toilet I’ve used in Kenya…
My placement, Town, Family and Friends:
I live in Ngong (pronounced most similarly to “gong” with a little throat action that does not translate well into English… or blog writing for that matter). It is about a 20 minute matatu or bus ride to the Nairobi city center. It is incredibly bustling and a source of non-stop excitement, especially being one of probably 10 mzungu in the entire huge community! It is indescribably poor, American ghettos and poverty couldn’t even begin to describe the houses, filth and dangerousness of the area (especially post sundown). I live in the middle of the community, in a small apartment building sandwiched between the major market and the slum. Once the sun goes down, if you are not taking a taxi somewhere, it is not the best decision to be outside of the apartment, so I have most definitely gone through a lifestyle makeover since arriving in Ngong. I would love to post pictures of the neighborhood to give you all a better idea of where I am living, but I can’t really bring my camera out without making myself a target (and reasonably so, if I had nothing and didn’t know where my next meal was coming from and saw someone photographing my neighborhood, I would probably rob him), but I plan on taking pictures of Ngong soon, so I will post them as soon as I can. My apartment is very safe, with locks to enter the front, locks to get to the stairs, a lock on each floor and if you manage to make it through all that, deadbolts on the doors. So don’t worry about me… I wouldn’t have even felt the need to say all that, but I think I painted an unnecessarily dramatic picture of my neighborhood and wanted to ease the tension for grandma and papa (Hi grandma and papa!) My apartment is owned by a woman named Naomi. She is my house mother, a PHENOMENAL cook, who is an absolute sweetheart and incredibly easy to get along with. She LOVES soap operas and a lot of nights, we sit as a “family” and watch Spanish soap operas, translated into English (padway and andy, you guys thought we had it bad last semester!) In Ngong everyone is super friendly. Almost everyday after work I walk into the same juice shop, talk to my new friend Phillip who runs the place and get a new combination of fruit juice and stop at either the butcher for a beef samosa, or get grilled corn and chopped sugar cane from the street vendor on my block. Either way, the drink and the meal usually run me between 40 and 45 shillings (50 cents American). Naomi has a nephew named Isaac, he is 20 and he stays at Naomi’s house 2-3 times a week and he lives and goes to school in Nairobi the other days. I’ve gotten pretty close with him and he is a really goofy guy. He is the nicest kid ever, who was recruited to play soccer in England, but because he has no birth certificate he cannot apply for a visa. He plays for his university and in a Kenyan league and has shown me around Ngong, and taken me out in Nairobi and even found a pickup basketball game for us to play near the city center. I think that he is a good kid to know in this area because he is an incredibly nice and trustworthy kid, but he seems to know EVERYONE when you walk down the street with him and it seems like he is really well respected, in Ngong and also in the parts of Nairobi that I have been with him. The other volunteers that I live with are great. Jack, from London, is my roommate, and then there is Nikki and Tarin from Canada, and Daniella from Colombia. I have gotten really close with the three girls right off the bat, and me and Jack get along really well, but he is rarely around and seems to do his own thing a lot, which is cool as well. Tarin leaves next week for Tanzania and Daniella is changing her placement to another part of Kenya next Tuesday, so I think that I will get new roommates, which is sad because I am perfectly happy with the ones that I have!
I arrived in Ngong thinking that I was doing a teaching program at the Sidai Academy in the Slums of Ngong, but due to unforeseen circumstances, Sidai Academy was forced to relocate and I was stranded in Ngong with no placement! I had heard that the programs through my organization were unorganized, but I was a little shaky when I found out that my placement didn’t exist anymore. Luckily, Nikki and Tarin took me to their placement, an HIV positive women’s center called “living positive”. It has a daycare and a school as a sister program located in the heart of the Ngong slum. Daniella, took me to her placement the following day as well. It is called the Faraja Children’s Home, just outside Ngong, about a 20 minute walk from our apartment. The Faraja Children’s home is an orphanage that supports 34 children from all over Kenya. Now (this is still a catch up portion) I work a few days a week at Living Positive and a few days a week at Faraja Children’s home and I am planning on starting my own initiative with the time that I have here. I will get into both of the placements in wayyyy more detail in a minute, I’m just trying to get you oriented to the way that my life is working now before I throw you off the deep end of information without water wings…
My first day of placement (Living Positive Woman's Center):
On my first full day in Ngong, I woke up early (everything starts a little earlier in Nairobi because a lot of business shut down for the evening once the sun starts to set) and followed Tarin and Nikki to the Living Positive Center. I had no idea what to expect while we were weaving through the backstreets of Ngong on our way to the center. Living Positive is a center specifically for HIV infected women to learn skills such as making jewelry, hangbags, wallets etc so that they could make crafts and sell them to support themselves and their families. I was blown away when we got there. It’s a small little center with about 15-20 women working on all sorts all of crafts, all of whom are constantly laughing and joking. We sat with them and I tried my best not to mess anything up on my first day. We walked over to the day care center (located in the middle of the slum) and played with the kids for a short while. We walked into the classroom and immediately the children started singing “how are you!?, how are you!? How are you?!” which is the first English they learn, if you respond by saying anything other than “fine” you will get a very confused look and a few giggles. More to come on the women’s shelter and day care (including pictures) soon!
Second day (faraja orphanage)
My Second day in Ngong, I accompanied Daniella (Columbian roommate) to the Faraja Children’s Home. I spent the morning on my hands and knees scrubbing the walls of the orphanage with a washcloth, bucket and soap. Then I washed the dishes in a bucket with a bar of soap, using rainwater that had filled a huge plastic reservoir which was used for the tap water at the orphanage. The orphanage is one of the most run down looking buildings in a run-down part, of a run-down town, in a run-down country. In any part of America, this building would have been condemned twice. But here, it is a household for 35 people. The labor was backbreaking in the morning when the kids went off to school. That is all of the kids except Kefa. This was one of the pivotal points of the trip, no, my life. Kefa, is a one and a half year old boy who I am convinced is the cutest child on the face of the earth. He is one of the most curious, intelligent and charismatic one year olds ever. He speaks Swahili, and picks up on English and Spanish (thanks to one and a half months of tutoring from Daniella). Only one problem; he is deathly afraid of mzungus, especially those who look like ghosts (not me, obviously). I said “hi” to him and he ran scared into a different room. Good thing that is the response that I get from most girls when I first meet them, which has made me incredibly difficult to deter. He became my project. By the end of the day he wouldn’t leave my side. All of the kids came home at around 1:30 and the house became utter chaos! I played with as many kids as I could, forgetting names as soon as I was corrected on the pronunciation of them for the third time. It was such a fun time! A ten year old boy named Isaac started cooking dinner for his mom and 33 brothers and sisters while the other children bathed each other, took care of each other’s laundry and found time to kick a soccer ball and play all around the house before getting to their homework (there is no electricity so it is hard to study post sundown). Amazing. These kids were more responsible than I am. 10 years old, after a full day of school and they had to come home to a house and take care of adult business. Puts things in perspective. I almost asked one of the 14 year olds to work on my applications for grad school… I felt like she might have a better idea of what to do than I did. As the day wound down Daniella and I got up to leave. Right before I left for the day Kefa yelled “mzungu!” (I’ll respond to it for now, but damn it, he WILL learn my name!) and I turned around. He came running (waddling) over and gave me a kiss on the cheek. As I said, cutest kid ever. That was my first day at Faraja Children’s Home. MUCH more to come in later posts about the history of the place, the present state and of course, pictures!
Alright. Enough of my best friend in Africa, Kefa… I’m sure there will be PLENTY more of him…
On a completely unrelated note: one of the coolest things about Africa that I cannot get over, is the clothes. People have the coolest gear here and don’t even realize it. It has been just long enough that a lot of the clothes donated by Americans and other countries have come back in style-- I see more cool clothes in Nairobi that I am jealous of than anywhere I have been in the States. People are wearing Bulls clothes from the 90’s, worn in hats with retro baseball teams (some of which don’t exist anymore), Starter Jackets (if you don’t remember these, then look them up on google) with Larry Johnson, Alonzo Mourning and Muggsy Bogues on the Charlotte Hornets. The coolest gear ever! As a mzungu walking down the street, almost every person at least gives me a glance and more likely shamelessly stares at me. If they don’t say “mzungu, how are you!?” they at least mumble “jambo”, “mambo”, “habari gani”, “moreaga” “poa, poa” or another of the million Swahili or native tongue greetings there are in Kenya. When things get awkward is when they catch me gawking at them as hard as they are gawking at me, except I am looking at the University of Wisconsin Rose Bowl hat from the early 1990’s… But I digress…
Until next time…
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