We are in Nairobi right now, and tonight we take the train to Mombasa. YEAH TRAIN!!! I am so excited about it.
We got on the bus to Nairobi at 8 am yesterday, and arrived here at 6:30 pm. It's just under 400 km. It was a horrible time, especially as the roads here are so bad. As in, a lot of the time cars drive on the scrub next to the road, since it's less potholed.
I'm not sure when we'll get back online, as we'll be in Mombasa for two days, then we'll fly to Dar es Salaam, stay there for a couple days, ferry to Zanzibar, stay in Stone Town for two days, then up north on the beaches for a couple days, then ferry back to Dar. We will then bus to Arushu on the border, spend a day there, then travel to Nairobi, sight seeing here until our plane leaves on the 15th.
Or something like that. You know what they say about the best laid plans.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOM!!!!
Lots of love,
Courtney
Friday, July 27, 2007
Sunday, July 22, 2007
Quick Note
We are alive, I promise.
We recently realized that our time in Kakamega ends this coming Wednesday, so we have been busier than ever this last little while. Its been insane.
We have decided to travel for over two weeks at the end of the vacation, so I am uber-psyched. We're going to do Mombasa and Zanzibar for sure, and we're still figuring out what else.
We realized this at the point that we had less than two weeks of work left! We were freaking out because almost NOTHING was finished, from business cards to the website. However, as always happens, we've been able to get through most of it.
We are both sun BURNT yesterday. We went swimming with the kids again and since we had no trouble last week we figured sunscreen wouldn't be necessary. WRONG. We had to talk aspirin just to sleep, and now, for the first time ever, we are wearing our hats. We look ridiculous, but this has got to go away before we travel, since it's 8 hours on a bus to Nairobi, and then 12 hours on a train to Mombasa.
Got to run, I will try to write again when we know what our actual plans are!
Lots of love,
Courtney
We recently realized that our time in Kakamega ends this coming Wednesday, so we have been busier than ever this last little while. Its been insane.
We have decided to travel for over two weeks at the end of the vacation, so I am uber-psyched. We're going to do Mombasa and Zanzibar for sure, and we're still figuring out what else.
We realized this at the point that we had less than two weeks of work left! We were freaking out because almost NOTHING was finished, from business cards to the website. However, as always happens, we've been able to get through most of it.
We are both sun BURNT yesterday. We went swimming with the kids again and since we had no trouble last week we figured sunscreen wouldn't be necessary. WRONG. We had to talk aspirin just to sleep, and now, for the first time ever, we are wearing our hats. We look ridiculous, but this has got to go away before we travel, since it's 8 hours on a bus to Nairobi, and then 12 hours on a train to Mombasa.
Got to run, I will try to write again when we know what our actual plans are!
Lots of love,
Courtney
Monday, July 9, 2007
Zoom in on his face... see how happy he is?!?!
This weekend we spent the coldest two hours I can remember in a pool teaching Ephy’s three kids to swim. Now, if Neil and I were cold, just imagine how bad it was for these guys. Their whole bodies were shaking and shivering. Not conducive to floating, that’s for sure.
It went as well as I expected, seeing as none of them have ever even been in the water before. First we taught blowing bubbles, which was not too successful at first, and I think they were convinced that we were just trying to make them choke. We must learn how to say “blow out, not in!” in Kiswahili before the next lesson.
Next time I’m going to drag them all to the deeper part, where they can’t put their hands down and touch the bottom to stop them from sinking while I’m trying to get them to float. They are, understandably, wary of the deeper bit. And wary of me, as I let them drop down a couple of times by mistake. I have to give it to them though; they’re troopers, keeping at it.
It was so cold. So, so, so, so cold. That’s probably what they’re going to remember the most. But they told Ephy that they had a great time, so I’m hoping we go again. When it’s sunny.
The best part was when I did a couple of laps to warm up, and came back to the three kids imitating me, kind of kick and swinging one arm around, while pulling themselves along the bottom with the other. It was really amusing.
I spent Sunday kinda ill, just vaguely nauseous and sleepy. I only have myself to blame though, as I went off chicken this past week, having seen one fall asleep in someone’s arms. How cute is that?!? Too cute to eat, I said. Anyway, after a week of not much protein, and having forgotten my multivitamins at work on Wednesday, I assume my unhappiness resulted from that. So I ate chicken last night, and I feel a different kind of unhappy. So much for Kenya resolving my not eating meat!
Other than that, Friday was spent with Neil happily going through papers and reports at KAMADEP, another NGO here, finding information for his research project. I tried to help at first, and then realized I was mostly just in the way, and read a book. He was able to bust out some facts and figures when one of out American friends here asked about birth rates and such. It was cool.
And speaking of him busting out stuff, his Kiswahili is coming along. He can have whole little conversations with pleasantries, and is able to translate an astounding number of words. He amused people by counting things in Kiswahili the other day. I am most proud.
Well, we’re at work again, and Neil has gone of to KAMADEP to transfer files from a hard drive, since CABDA’s one and only monitor has blown something, and is dead. I should go do something useful too!
Talk to you later, and I hope that all is well back home!
Lots of love,
Courtney
p.s.: More photos of the cutest kid ever to tide you over! (And by that I mean the little guy in blue, not Neil.)
Tuesday, July 3, 2007
Hiccups and haircuts
I don’t know about you guys, but I cannot believe that it’s July already. Time has flown by, and I’m not sure where it’s gone. I can only imagine that the second half of this trip will go even faster than the first.
We had another lazy and relaxed weekend, which was lovely. After 5 days of work, being able to sit for hours on a veranda playing checkers and reading, feeling the warm breeze flowing towards us from the trees, it was a most welcome break.
Florence, the Nairobi University student, has a new girl with her, just a young thing fresh out of high school, and they came and sat with us for a while, and we had a nice chat about eating vegetarian here. Florence also gave Neil a Kiswahili lesson, which was fun to listen to.
The only thing that spoiled the lovely day was a very large rat or mouse that climbed up the wall beside us, freaking me right out.
Speaking if the guest house, we were shown a lovely bunch of open air huts in a garden behind a building. Some people take supper there, but I would feel guilty getting the staff to carry my supper down the hill. It would be a lovely place for drinks though… maybe next weekend.
Health wise, we’re both fine and healthy, although I’m bruising like a peach (ie: very easily), making the bumpy rides out to the field work quite problematic. Neil’s only complaint was a case of hiccups that lasted, on and off, from Sunday noon to Monday morning. I’ve never seen hiccups wake anyone up before, but Neil managed it.
We also cut Neil’s hair, which was interesting, as there are no electrical plugs in the bathroom, and he had to trust me not to bald him. Luckily, it all worked out, and he looks very handsome, if I do say so myself.
Monday was good, work and then home, trying to get there before the rainstorm started, which we managed. Although, Neil had to go beg our neighbour for some onions, as we were out, and he really wanted latkes (yes, we make them here!), and as he walked back he was slowly followed by the rain, which was moving in, and getting harder. How neat is that?
And this morning there were 20 kids in the breakfast room, from all over the US, part of a group called "Global Roots". Not sure what they were about. Neil mentioned that he hadn't felt this awkward in a room full of white people for a while, but I asked when the last time he was in a room with 20 9th graders. He conceded it was in 9th grade. Anyway, hopefully they won't be to noisy or annoying!
Sorry we haven't been able to get more photos up. Honestly, the internet here is pretty off and on. I'll keep adding one to each blog though!!! Here's Neil with a really cute kid during one of the interviews he's doing.
Well, more later! Have a great week!
Lots of love,
Courtney
Friday, June 29, 2007
Equator sun will burn even when hidden...
Hello everyone!
I wanted to thank you guys for your great coincidence stories, it really is a crazy world!
(Also, we have two more students that arrived, randomly with no place else to stay, from U of T and OCAD in Toronto. It's like an Ontario university reunion!!!)
Just a brief update, as we have actually been quite busy this week. We have started interviewing people for Neil's research project, talking to them about their lives and how the loan that we provided will be helping them, and what they want to do with it.
Having to go through the translator, and a whole wack of questions, it does get a bit tiring, but the information we're getting is interesting, and hopefully will be really useful to Neil.
What else have we learned this week? That even if it's cloudy, we're still on the equator, and we'll still burn. Neil crashed with a small case of heat stroke on Tuesday, and I have a tan, which I didn't have on Monday.
We've also been working on the CABDA website, business cards, and brochure. It's exactly what I would have been doing at work in Toronto, so the days in the field are quite a nice mix-up.
Tomorrow is halfway done the trip, which is crazy to think about. I'm wondering if we should take a coupe days to ourselves to do some real tourist things, to break it up a bit. I'll let you know what we decide.
Tomorrow is also Neil's dad's birthday! HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!!! I hope that the move doesn't mean you can't celebrate. Eat some ice cream and think of me. I miss good ice cream. :)
I'll write again soon, with actual good information, I promise!!!
Lots of love,
Courtney
ps: I've included a photo of me working, to prove that I'm not just ignoring you all!
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Random Coincidence
The strangest thing happened a couple of days ago at breakfast.
Three white girls were sitting at a table, and one got up to walk to the fruit, and had to go past our table. She had on a University of Guelph shirt, and I was so surprised that I stopped her to ask if it was the U of G in Ontario.
It was.
The three of them are second year veterinary students there, and are here to help the thesis of a University of Nairobi student.
For those of you that don't know, Guelph is a university maybe an hour from Western, where Neil and I go, and it is where my brother is going, and where Neil's mother went.
I was flabbergasted. I kept asking Neil "How many people in the world? 10 Billion? What are the odds?"
I mean, we are in the boonies here, a small town in Western Kenya described by our travel guide as having "no real reason to stay here." The sheer coincidence of the meeting is nuts.
They, however, seemed less impressed. Give them a month of seeing almost no white people, let alone fellow western Ontario university students, and then we'll see how they feel!
Lots of love,
Courtney
Three white girls were sitting at a table, and one got up to walk to the fruit, and had to go past our table. She had on a University of Guelph shirt, and I was so surprised that I stopped her to ask if it was the U of G in Ontario.
It was.
The three of them are second year veterinary students there, and are here to help the thesis of a University of Nairobi student.
For those of you that don't know, Guelph is a university maybe an hour from Western, where Neil and I go, and it is where my brother is going, and where Neil's mother went.
I was flabbergasted. I kept asking Neil "How many people in the world? 10 Billion? What are the odds?"
I mean, we are in the boonies here, a small town in Western Kenya described by our travel guide as having "no real reason to stay here." The sheer coincidence of the meeting is nuts.
They, however, seemed less impressed. Give them a month of seeing almost no white people, let alone fellow western Ontario university students, and then we'll see how they feel!
Lots of love,
Courtney
Monday, June 18, 2007
A weeks worth of babbling
Sorry it’s been a week since I last wrote, but it’s been busy. Sort of. Let’s work backwards.
Saturday
Neil, Ephy, her three children, and I went to Kisumu. When we went last month to buy a bunch of stationary supplies, something happened to one of the bags. We went to go ask if they still had it or if things were put back in stock, but eventually Ephy just accused the staff of theft. Needless to say it was an infuriating and fruitless trip. The man tried to convince us the problem was with our staff. He promised to start an investigation, and I asked for his card and name, assuming that if I call him every couple of days to inquire, eventually something might actually get done. I doubt it.
After this we went to the museum. It had a snake pit (most of them surprising small, all local, and all totally venomous, of course. I am rethinking plans to visit the Kakamega Forest, to be sure.), a crocodile enclosure with two large but sleepy crocodiles (I had to reassure Ephy that they could not jump high enough to get out of the cage.), a fresh water aquarium (that looked like a pet store, as Neil pointed out), a room with exhibits about the history of the people of Western Kenya that was interesting but not hugely specific (for example, they have used tools ‘since the earliest time’.), and a traditional Lua homestead, a small village looking thing, that we were all too hungry to visit, which is a shame, but I figure we see pretty close to the real thing every time we go out in the field.
We went to lunch at Mon Ami, a restaurant behind the huge supermarket that we go to for our food, as it is the only one with imported stuff that almost tastes like home. The restaurant had really great iced coffee, which was such a treat. Who could imagine missing Tim Horton’s? I’m surprised, but when you can’t get a cup of coffee to save your life, you start to miss things like that. Don’t even get me started on Starbucks. Mmmm….. frapachinos… mmmm…
Anyway, we had a good lunch there, and Ephy had a meeting right after, so Neil and I looked after the kids for an hour and a bit. (We’re turning into regular baby sitters out here.) First we went into the store to look at bathing suits (as these are the kids I’m going to be teaching to swim soon), and of course they also got distracted by the toys. It was so nice at that age, to be enthralled by something as simple as a little doll. Now you have to spend $100 on something shiny to make me happy.
We also took the kids to a (play-per-use!) playground, and they drove some cars around a track (and off the track a couple of times in the youngest one’s case), and played on swings and slides and everything. I found it ridiculously hot, but they were having a great time. Their mom called to let us know she was back, and we headed in the buy the suits for the kids, and to get groceries for Neil and I. It’s kind of expensive, since when we go we’re looking for the stuff we can’t get here in Kakamega, like sliced deli meat and cheese, butter, bacon, and that sort of thing. I figure if we only go once or twice a month, and then spend almost nothing here, getting vegetables from the market is dirt cheap, then we shouldn’t have any troubles.
After that we went home, watched ‘Erin Brokovich’ on the TV, had some potato and leek soup (from a mix, no blenders here), and went to bed. Neil’s allergies have been giving him a hard time, so I gave him to Benadryl, and he was out like a light. I envied him, as the people below us argued well into the night, and then started again around 7 am. When the rooster outside our window joined in I put in my ear plugs.
Friday, or the day we played games and realized I am 20% psychic.
I was sick again, so Neil and I took the day off. I figured it was something I ate, and just stayed in bed or the bathroom all day. Again Neil took awesome care of me, getting me ginger ale when I asked for it, and making sure I ate. There was a wicked thunderstorm that knocked out the power for over twelve hours, meaning we had to clean out our fridge on Saturday, but that was ok because it meant we could fit all the new food in.
After the rain stopped Neil went to the restaurant to drink tea and work on the computer by candle light, and I stayed in bed reading with a flashlight. That was pretty much the most productive point of the day.
Thursday
Went to work, did work things, walked home, and watched some of Season One ‘Prison Break’, which Neil bought at a DVD and tape stand, then went to bed. It was a simple day.
Wednesday, or “Play That Funky Music White Boy” night.
The American family next door left on Thursday, so on Wednesday night they invited us to dinner to thank us for watching their kids, and to a dance part at their place. I honestly don’t think there is anything I can write that will do justice to this party. The mom made chocolate chip cookies, which was awesome and Neil ate a whole bunch, since they’ve become a novelty to us (we have a stove top, but no oven, so we can’t do it ourselves, and they mostly sell biscuits here, not cookies, which is a shame.), and then they put on oldies music, and the dancing began. Well, not for the little guy, he was sleepy and just lay on the couch, only popping up to eat cookies as they were brought fresh to the coffee table.
Honestly, just watching the three adults and the daughter dance, Neil and I were exhausted. And, not going to lie, it was pretty surreal, standing in this apartment with almost strangers, eating cookies, and watching them rock out to Cyndi Lopper. And I mean ‘rock out’. There was much singing along, flailing of the arms and legs, and throwing of oneself to the floor. Think of every action possible for the song “I Will Survive”….. Picturing it? Times it by ten, and that was what we were watching. I spent most of the evening with my mouth dropped open.
We finally begged off after 11, and went right to bed, so very tired, and needing to get up for work early.
Tuesday
On Tuesday we had an unusual offer from a British Evangelical preacher. He and his wife were going back to England for two months, and offered to let us stay in their house. They took us right to see it, and it was quite nice, a big kitchen, living room, and dining room, and three bedrooms. It was located in Kelfinco Estates, which, he explained to us in a low voice, is where all the Asians live, all the shop keepers, (who are actually Indian, but for some reason have always been referred to as Asian in Kenya), and so the Estate is where all the money is. Very safe, he assured us, very nice neighborhood. And it was; it was a little subdivision, with a bunch of guards, closed gates, and high fences. Even in the ‘safe’ areas here you know you’re in a different, very violent and dangerous, country.
The man was annoying. There is no other way to put it. He had us sit down in the living room and kept talking, or as he put it, “sharing with us”. He was also a bit racist. He talked at length about the corruption at every level, and how the “Kenyans aren’t the brightest people.” Did I mention that his wife, who was now in the kitchen making him dinner, was born and raised in Kakamega? It was discouraging to learn though, that despite his being here for as long as he has, people still prefer “what is in his pocket, not what’s in his heart.” I had hoped that the endless asking for money and assuming that we can pay three times something’s worth, simply because we are white, would stop once people had gotten used to us. Apparently it never stops.
Anyway, they were willing to let us have the place for what they pay, which is less than our guesthouse. Neil was very taken with the offer; mostly I think he wanted couches that he fits it, which do not exist at the guesthouse. I suggested we not even think about it until the next day.
We discussed it over breakfast, and I listed my reasons why I didn’t want to do it. He listed his reasons why he wanted to, and then suggested we simply rent both. I listed my reasons why I didn’t want to do that either. So, we stopped talking about it until lunch, which was about the same. And then at dinner with the American family he got the men to back him up, and one of them did, but one of them sided with me. So, eventually, Neil conceded, and we’re still at the guest house.
(And if you’re wondering why I didn’t want to do it, it basically came down to the inconvenience of moving, the fact that I feel safe here, that the people know us and help us, that we get a good free breakfast every morning, that I don’t have to do any of the cleaning, and that we get new sheets on the beds every Monday night, none of which would happen in the house. I have the rest of my life to clean; I would like to take advantage of this time when I don’t have to. Plus, they give us toilet paper here, and cost of the amount we use when we’re ill probably amounts to the difference in the cost between the two places.)
Monday
I don’t remember Monday… I assume it was boring. I designed a bunch of business cards to show to Ephy for the marketing campaign we’re working on for CABDA… and that might actually be it…
Well, there you have it, a sum up of my week. I hope everyone at home is doing well!
Lots of love,
Courtney
Saturday
Neil, Ephy, her three children, and I went to Kisumu. When we went last month to buy a bunch of stationary supplies, something happened to one of the bags. We went to go ask if they still had it or if things were put back in stock, but eventually Ephy just accused the staff of theft. Needless to say it was an infuriating and fruitless trip. The man tried to convince us the problem was with our staff. He promised to start an investigation, and I asked for his card and name, assuming that if I call him every couple of days to inquire, eventually something might actually get done. I doubt it.
After this we went to the museum. It had a snake pit (most of them surprising small, all local, and all totally venomous, of course. I am rethinking plans to visit the Kakamega Forest, to be sure.), a crocodile enclosure with two large but sleepy crocodiles (I had to reassure Ephy that they could not jump high enough to get out of the cage.), a fresh water aquarium (that looked like a pet store, as Neil pointed out), a room with exhibits about the history of the people of Western Kenya that was interesting but not hugely specific (for example, they have used tools ‘since the earliest time’.), and a traditional Lua homestead, a small village looking thing, that we were all too hungry to visit, which is a shame, but I figure we see pretty close to the real thing every time we go out in the field.
We went to lunch at Mon Ami, a restaurant behind the huge supermarket that we go to for our food, as it is the only one with imported stuff that almost tastes like home. The restaurant had really great iced coffee, which was such a treat. Who could imagine missing Tim Horton’s? I’m surprised, but when you can’t get a cup of coffee to save your life, you start to miss things like that. Don’t even get me started on Starbucks. Mmmm….. frapachinos… mmmm…
Anyway, we had a good lunch there, and Ephy had a meeting right after, so Neil and I looked after the kids for an hour and a bit. (We’re turning into regular baby sitters out here.) First we went into the store to look at bathing suits (as these are the kids I’m going to be teaching to swim soon), and of course they also got distracted by the toys. It was so nice at that age, to be enthralled by something as simple as a little doll. Now you have to spend $100 on something shiny to make me happy.
We also took the kids to a (play-per-use!) playground, and they drove some cars around a track (and off the track a couple of times in the youngest one’s case), and played on swings and slides and everything. I found it ridiculously hot, but they were having a great time. Their mom called to let us know she was back, and we headed in the buy the suits for the kids, and to get groceries for Neil and I. It’s kind of expensive, since when we go we’re looking for the stuff we can’t get here in Kakamega, like sliced deli meat and cheese, butter, bacon, and that sort of thing. I figure if we only go once or twice a month, and then spend almost nothing here, getting vegetables from the market is dirt cheap, then we shouldn’t have any troubles.
After that we went home, watched ‘Erin Brokovich’ on the TV, had some potato and leek soup (from a mix, no blenders here), and went to bed. Neil’s allergies have been giving him a hard time, so I gave him to Benadryl, and he was out like a light. I envied him, as the people below us argued well into the night, and then started again around 7 am. When the rooster outside our window joined in I put in my ear plugs.
Friday, or the day we played games and realized I am 20% psychic.
I was sick again, so Neil and I took the day off. I figured it was something I ate, and just stayed in bed or the bathroom all day. Again Neil took awesome care of me, getting me ginger ale when I asked for it, and making sure I ate. There was a wicked thunderstorm that knocked out the power for over twelve hours, meaning we had to clean out our fridge on Saturday, but that was ok because it meant we could fit all the new food in.
After the rain stopped Neil went to the restaurant to drink tea and work on the computer by candle light, and I stayed in bed reading with a flashlight. That was pretty much the most productive point of the day.
Thursday
Went to work, did work things, walked home, and watched some of Season One ‘Prison Break’, which Neil bought at a DVD and tape stand, then went to bed. It was a simple day.
Wednesday, or “Play That Funky Music White Boy” night.
The American family next door left on Thursday, so on Wednesday night they invited us to dinner to thank us for watching their kids, and to a dance part at their place. I honestly don’t think there is anything I can write that will do justice to this party. The mom made chocolate chip cookies, which was awesome and Neil ate a whole bunch, since they’ve become a novelty to us (we have a stove top, but no oven, so we can’t do it ourselves, and they mostly sell biscuits here, not cookies, which is a shame.), and then they put on oldies music, and the dancing began. Well, not for the little guy, he was sleepy and just lay on the couch, only popping up to eat cookies as they were brought fresh to the coffee table.
Honestly, just watching the three adults and the daughter dance, Neil and I were exhausted. And, not going to lie, it was pretty surreal, standing in this apartment with almost strangers, eating cookies, and watching them rock out to Cyndi Lopper. And I mean ‘rock out’. There was much singing along, flailing of the arms and legs, and throwing of oneself to the floor. Think of every action possible for the song “I Will Survive”….. Picturing it? Times it by ten, and that was what we were watching. I spent most of the evening with my mouth dropped open.
We finally begged off after 11, and went right to bed, so very tired, and needing to get up for work early.
Tuesday
On Tuesday we had an unusual offer from a British Evangelical preacher. He and his wife were going back to England for two months, and offered to let us stay in their house. They took us right to see it, and it was quite nice, a big kitchen, living room, and dining room, and three bedrooms. It was located in Kelfinco Estates, which, he explained to us in a low voice, is where all the Asians live, all the shop keepers, (who are actually Indian, but for some reason have always been referred to as Asian in Kenya), and so the Estate is where all the money is. Very safe, he assured us, very nice neighborhood. And it was; it was a little subdivision, with a bunch of guards, closed gates, and high fences. Even in the ‘safe’ areas here you know you’re in a different, very violent and dangerous, country.
The man was annoying. There is no other way to put it. He had us sit down in the living room and kept talking, or as he put it, “sharing with us”. He was also a bit racist. He talked at length about the corruption at every level, and how the “Kenyans aren’t the brightest people.” Did I mention that his wife, who was now in the kitchen making him dinner, was born and raised in Kakamega? It was discouraging to learn though, that despite his being here for as long as he has, people still prefer “what is in his pocket, not what’s in his heart.” I had hoped that the endless asking for money and assuming that we can pay three times something’s worth, simply because we are white, would stop once people had gotten used to us. Apparently it never stops.
Anyway, they were willing to let us have the place for what they pay, which is less than our guesthouse. Neil was very taken with the offer; mostly I think he wanted couches that he fits it, which do not exist at the guesthouse. I suggested we not even think about it until the next day.
We discussed it over breakfast, and I listed my reasons why I didn’t want to do it. He listed his reasons why he wanted to, and then suggested we simply rent both. I listed my reasons why I didn’t want to do that either. So, we stopped talking about it until lunch, which was about the same. And then at dinner with the American family he got the men to back him up, and one of them did, but one of them sided with me. So, eventually, Neil conceded, and we’re still at the guest house.
(And if you’re wondering why I didn’t want to do it, it basically came down to the inconvenience of moving, the fact that I feel safe here, that the people know us and help us, that we get a good free breakfast every morning, that I don’t have to do any of the cleaning, and that we get new sheets on the beds every Monday night, none of which would happen in the house. I have the rest of my life to clean; I would like to take advantage of this time when I don’t have to. Plus, they give us toilet paper here, and cost of the amount we use when we’re ill probably amounts to the difference in the cost between the two places.)
Monday
I don’t remember Monday… I assume it was boring. I designed a bunch of business cards to show to Ephy for the marketing campaign we’re working on for CABDA… and that might actually be it…
Well, there you have it, a sum up of my week. I hope everyone at home is doing well!
Lots of love,
Courtney
Monday, June 11, 2007
Misadventures that weren't our fault
June 10th
Funny lines from the weekend:
Reaction of waitress to Courtney’s first Kiswahili sentence: “What?!?”
“What, haven’t you read the rough guide to Kenya yet?” Neighbour (also from Canada) Rick responding to us not knowing what he meant by going swimming.
Neil: “Something black just flew past our window.”
Courtney: “Was it a bird, or a person?”
-----
Friday night Neil and I got off work early, since CABDA closes at four. We decided to go check on our neighbour’s kid, a 9 year old girl that seemed to be having malaria type symptoms when we had talked to her father, Dorryl, a couple of nights prior. She’s doing well. However, her parents were trying to talk the two kids into going with them to visit the place that Melvin, a former street kid, used to sleep in downtown Kakamega. The kids didn’t want to go, so despite only having met the kids and mom a half hour earlier, I volunteered Neil and myself to babysit.
They took us up on our offer, and we had a pretty fun couple of hours with the kids, a 6 year old boy and the 9 year old girl. They were really quite precocious. I was startled to learn that the boy hasn’t even started grade one yet, and he was fully functional, and had a cute habit of taking everything 100% seriously, and then explaining to you why what you said was incorrect.
Their mother arrived home without Dorryl, and burst into tears as soon as she saw Wendy, who hustled her into the apartment to talk, as Neil and I tried to distract the kids with hand slapping games. (I’m sure their parent’s won’t appreciate us for that, but it seemed like the best idea at the time. And it worked. So well that we then had to change to thumb wrestling, so that the boy would stop smacking everyone so hard.)
As it turns out, the filming on the streets caused more of a commotion than was expected, and a large group of people formed in the middle of the road. I think what happened was that someone from Child Services witnessed this and called the police, who then arrested Dorryl and his crew, and attempted to arrest the mom as well. Dorryl however, firmly insisted that his wife go back to the children, that “she had done nothing wrong”, and, perhaps reacting to the masculine show of authority, allowed her to leave.
Luckily for them, Rick knows people in high places, and sent one of the more influential businessmen in Kakamega, who happens to be on the board of directors for Rick’s (and Jack and Wendy’s) organization. According to Dorryl, the whole experience was quite surreal, but he knew things would work out fine when the man that Rick sent sat down, pointed at the head policeman, and said “Oh, I saw you at the Lions meeting last week.” He was let go with no fine or bribes needed and arrived home even before the food that we ordered did.
(Here I can throw in another story about the need for those protective suits that some of you mentioned. While walking with Neil to order the food I stepped in a hole, twisted my ankle, and skinned open my right knee. I had to dab of streams of blood while Neil ordered. It’s been fun trying to keep it clean, as paranoia about where I fell convinced me of the need to pour iodine on the wound. I had forgotten exactly how much that hurts. Poor Neil had to sit beside me, trying to stop the iodine from falling onto the sofa, as I twitched around. My ankle, however, is fine.)
We ended up having supper with the family, which was really nice, especially after the kids fell asleep (both fully clothed, one on the sofa) and the ‘adults’ got to talk. He’s a photographer, and she’s a journalist, so it was really interesting to talk with them, and to learn their perspectives on the Kenyan news (which Neil and I have stopped watching and reading for the most part, as it is all over the top fear mongering, filled with quite graphic and horrific images. It’s an election year, and apparently everything comes out of the woodwork just before an election. Nothing near us though, don’t worry!)
On Saturday, Wendy took us on our first shopping trip to the market, and to a cute little bakery that we never would have found on our own. It was much less harrowing than I expected, even though Saturday is market day, and there were tons of people. The only problem time was when I almost got hit by a car in what I thought was a pedestrian only lane. Apparently there are none of those here. Wendy introduced us to her lady in the market that charges fair prices, no matter who is buying, and so we were able to get fresh vegetables, potatoes and carrots and onions, and some fruits, which we look forward to eating. Neil has already made a wonderful curry dish (I swear to God, that’s all there is here, I am never eating curry again once we get home) with some of the vegetables. It was very yummy. I am very lucky that Neil is such a great cook, as I would have long starved myself.
We also walked down to the row of shops closest to us, and got some flour and water. Neil is insistent that we will make potato latkes here. One of the shops had a bunch of school books in it, and Neil managed to find a grade 2 Kiswahili book that he is trying to learn from. (Neil says- “But unfortunately it’s all in Kiswahili.”) We’re going to ask the receptionist at work if she could help him to translate it enough to use. I am in awe of Neil’s ability to sit and learn the language. The only time I learn anything is when he forces me to remember it, or when I’m testing him, mangling to language horribly. He actually carried on a three or four sentence conversation with someone today, which was just so awesome. Also, it makes the locals laugh when he busts something out; they seem pretty excited to help him learn. I’m petrified of saying something and having them respond in Kiswahili, cause then I won’t have any idea what’s going on.
And on a couple of last, positive notes, we have found a place that can put our photos onto CD, and so we will be sending some out very soon. Also, I have a tan. A little one, as I am afraid of the equatorial sun, but a bit of a tan none the less. Yeah! And tonight at dinner, I had a great time, as at the end of it, when I wanted to pack up what was left of my vegetable curry, the waitress brought some bags and tin foil, but instead of simply putting the tin foil over the bowl, I watched in half amusement, half horror, as she poured my curry into a baggie, folded it up in the tin foil, and handed it to me. I laughed for a while.
Good night and lots of love,
Courtney
Funny lines from the weekend:
Reaction of waitress to Courtney’s first Kiswahili sentence: “What?!?”
“What, haven’t you read the rough guide to Kenya yet?” Neighbour (also from Canada) Rick responding to us not knowing what he meant by going swimming.
Neil: “Something black just flew past our window.”
Courtney: “Was it a bird, or a person?”
-----
Friday night Neil and I got off work early, since CABDA closes at four. We decided to go check on our neighbour’s kid, a 9 year old girl that seemed to be having malaria type symptoms when we had talked to her father, Dorryl, a couple of nights prior. She’s doing well. However, her parents were trying to talk the two kids into going with them to visit the place that Melvin, a former street kid, used to sleep in downtown Kakamega. The kids didn’t want to go, so despite only having met the kids and mom a half hour earlier, I volunteered Neil and myself to babysit.
They took us up on our offer, and we had a pretty fun couple of hours with the kids, a 6 year old boy and the 9 year old girl. They were really quite precocious. I was startled to learn that the boy hasn’t even started grade one yet, and he was fully functional, and had a cute habit of taking everything 100% seriously, and then explaining to you why what you said was incorrect.
Their mother arrived home without Dorryl, and burst into tears as soon as she saw Wendy, who hustled her into the apartment to talk, as Neil and I tried to distract the kids with hand slapping games. (I’m sure their parent’s won’t appreciate us for that, but it seemed like the best idea at the time. And it worked. So well that we then had to change to thumb wrestling, so that the boy would stop smacking everyone so hard.)
As it turns out, the filming on the streets caused more of a commotion than was expected, and a large group of people formed in the middle of the road. I think what happened was that someone from Child Services witnessed this and called the police, who then arrested Dorryl and his crew, and attempted to arrest the mom as well. Dorryl however, firmly insisted that his wife go back to the children, that “she had done nothing wrong”, and, perhaps reacting to the masculine show of authority, allowed her to leave.
Luckily for them, Rick knows people in high places, and sent one of the more influential businessmen in Kakamega, who happens to be on the board of directors for Rick’s (and Jack and Wendy’s) organization. According to Dorryl, the whole experience was quite surreal, but he knew things would work out fine when the man that Rick sent sat down, pointed at the head policeman, and said “Oh, I saw you at the Lions meeting last week.” He was let go with no fine or bribes needed and arrived home even before the food that we ordered did.
(Here I can throw in another story about the need for those protective suits that some of you mentioned. While walking with Neil to order the food I stepped in a hole, twisted my ankle, and skinned open my right knee. I had to dab of streams of blood while Neil ordered. It’s been fun trying to keep it clean, as paranoia about where I fell convinced me of the need to pour iodine on the wound. I had forgotten exactly how much that hurts. Poor Neil had to sit beside me, trying to stop the iodine from falling onto the sofa, as I twitched around. My ankle, however, is fine.)
We ended up having supper with the family, which was really nice, especially after the kids fell asleep (both fully clothed, one on the sofa) and the ‘adults’ got to talk. He’s a photographer, and she’s a journalist, so it was really interesting to talk with them, and to learn their perspectives on the Kenyan news (which Neil and I have stopped watching and reading for the most part, as it is all over the top fear mongering, filled with quite graphic and horrific images. It’s an election year, and apparently everything comes out of the woodwork just before an election. Nothing near us though, don’t worry!)
On Saturday, Wendy took us on our first shopping trip to the market, and to a cute little bakery that we never would have found on our own. It was much less harrowing than I expected, even though Saturday is market day, and there were tons of people. The only problem time was when I almost got hit by a car in what I thought was a pedestrian only lane. Apparently there are none of those here. Wendy introduced us to her lady in the market that charges fair prices, no matter who is buying, and so we were able to get fresh vegetables, potatoes and carrots and onions, and some fruits, which we look forward to eating. Neil has already made a wonderful curry dish (I swear to God, that’s all there is here, I am never eating curry again once we get home) with some of the vegetables. It was very yummy. I am very lucky that Neil is such a great cook, as I would have long starved myself.
We also walked down to the row of shops closest to us, and got some flour and water. Neil is insistent that we will make potato latkes here. One of the shops had a bunch of school books in it, and Neil managed to find a grade 2 Kiswahili book that he is trying to learn from. (Neil says- “But unfortunately it’s all in Kiswahili.”) We’re going to ask the receptionist at work if she could help him to translate it enough to use. I am in awe of Neil’s ability to sit and learn the language. The only time I learn anything is when he forces me to remember it, or when I’m testing him, mangling to language horribly. He actually carried on a three or four sentence conversation with someone today, which was just so awesome. Also, it makes the locals laugh when he busts something out; they seem pretty excited to help him learn. I’m petrified of saying something and having them respond in Kiswahili, cause then I won’t have any idea what’s going on.
And on a couple of last, positive notes, we have found a place that can put our photos onto CD, and so we will be sending some out very soon. Also, I have a tan. A little one, as I am afraid of the equatorial sun, but a bit of a tan none the less. Yeah! And tonight at dinner, I had a great time, as at the end of it, when I wanted to pack up what was left of my vegetable curry, the waitress brought some bags and tin foil, but instead of simply putting the tin foil over the bowl, I watched in half amusement, half horror, as she poured my curry into a baggie, folded it up in the tin foil, and handed it to me. I laughed for a while.
Good night and lots of love,
Courtney
"beautiful white girls don't fall out of trucks often here"
This morning for breakfast I had crepes with jam and hot chocolate. It was very gluttonous, but it made the knowledge that I would be eating a known chicken or something as horrible for lunch somewhat easier to bear.
The ride this morning was easier, as we seem to be figuring out how to fit all of us into the cab without me sitting on the door handle.
Before setting off however, I had to use the latrine at CABDA for the first time. I feel lucky having been able to avoid it for 3 weeks. It wasn’t actually as bad as I had feared though, but I am glad I was wearing a skirt. You basically stand on two steps above a whole in the ground and squat. I peed on my shoe a little, I’m not going to lie to you.
Next door to the classroom today the nursery class sang “B-I-N-G-O” over and over again. Neil and I kept laughing, which I was afraid was going to get us into trouble with the facilitator, who was sitting right next to us, but it really was SO cute.
At our break Neil gave the nursery class the Canada flag beach ball that he brought for them. I told him not to do it, as it would cause chaos and the teacher would hate us. She took it well though, waking them up from their nap time (!) to take them to a field and play with the ball. It was really cute, seeing them all scramble for the ball, and they gave us another “good job” dance, so it was worth it. Honestly, these kids could be throwing rocks at us and it would be the cutest thing ever.
Lunch today was the same as yesterday, but with beef, not chicken. While I have progressed far enough to be able to eat a chicken I have met, I simply cannot bring myself to start eating beef. I have confused my fellow CABDA workers, who asked what was wrong, since I didn’t take tea or eat lunch. I felt bad, and hungry, and tried to explain it in the least crazy way possible, saying that I don’t eat any meat that doesn’t come from a chicken, but I don’t think that helped. I tried to get across that my particular idiosyncrasies should not in any way change the way that they do things, and showed them my biscuits to hopefully make them ok with me not eating.
It was a humid heat today, and it just sapped the energy out of me. I was glad to be sitting there learning about child-to-child approaches to teaching, but sitting for 7 hours is a bit much. I napped during lunch break (since I wasn’t eating).
Group work was very difficult today. The two groups were split up differently, so I was with new people, including a teacher who missed yesterday. He took over the group, despite not knowing what was going on. I actually wanted to hit him with my chair. I cannot abide willfully rude ignorance. One of the CABDA staff found him hilarious, which I found worrying.
To top it off, a rain storm moved in while we were still going. The classroom has no glass in its very large windows, so the rain just blew in through the holes. Neil was just wearing a t-shirt, and when it rains it gets very cold, and one of the teachers called him over to sit between another teacher and himself to warm him up. The rain was so loud that the training could barely go one, as everyone must shout to be heard. Eventually we just stopped working and started talking. Somehow I got involved in a conversation about polygamy. The man who sat to my right has 4 wives, and on the left, seven. I was shocked, as I though the polygamy was on the decrease, something you found only in the most backwards parts of Africa. The group I was sitting with told me that it’s very common, and it isn’t going away, as it’s a tradition. I asked if the government was doing anything about it, since, as they stated, it was one of the biggest spreaders of HIV/AIDS, but they replied that “how can the government do anything when the president has many wives?” It was very difficult to get them to understand that it is illegal in Canada, it’s so ingrained here.
After the rain stopped we started up the class again, but I had stopped paying attention. Towards the end though, some classes began to sing on the other side of the school compound. It was by far the most enjoyable part of the afternoon. With just their voices they were able to make a far better sound than anything I’ve heard on the radio here so far. I would like to take this opportunity to mention how much the music videos here suck. They’re all very juvenile, made up of just a guy standing in front of drawings on the wall or something. Also, rap sucks here.
The ride home was more of the same, although you do not want to be stuck out in the boonies when the rain hits, the ride was a white knuckled one, with the truck sliding left and right on the mud. The women thought it was great, every time we shifted I would gasp; it made them laugh a lot. This time I was pressed so close against the door that my leg went 100% numb, and when I stepped out to let the facilitator out, I collapsed, fully on my ass, skirt flying akimbo. People stood and stared, as Neil put it “ beautiful white girls don’t go flying out of trucks often here.”
We went to the market, after I was able to walk again, to pick up a couple of things, and we decided to check out a restaurant in the hotel there. We walked in, only to be ignored. We sat down, only to be ignored. Neil asked for a menu, and we were told it would talk half an hour for our orders. Nothing new for Kakamega. We try to order, they’re out of everything, and it will actually be two hours before any order can be put in. It felt like one of those French restaurants where waiters refuse to meet your eye, so they don’t have to serve you. It’s possible my outrage at the place came partly from not having eaten since 7:30 that morning, but there is no way I’m going back. Which is a shame, as it would have been nice to have somewhere else to hang out than at the guest house.
We walked home, had some vegetable curry sent to the room, and Neil made some soup to tide me over. So, despite a long day, things have turned out ok today!
The ride this morning was easier, as we seem to be figuring out how to fit all of us into the cab without me sitting on the door handle.
Before setting off however, I had to use the latrine at CABDA for the first time. I feel lucky having been able to avoid it for 3 weeks. It wasn’t actually as bad as I had feared though, but I am glad I was wearing a skirt. You basically stand on two steps above a whole in the ground and squat. I peed on my shoe a little, I’m not going to lie to you.
Next door to the classroom today the nursery class sang “B-I-N-G-O” over and over again. Neil and I kept laughing, which I was afraid was going to get us into trouble with the facilitator, who was sitting right next to us, but it really was SO cute.
At our break Neil gave the nursery class the Canada flag beach ball that he brought for them. I told him not to do it, as it would cause chaos and the teacher would hate us. She took it well though, waking them up from their nap time (!) to take them to a field and play with the ball. It was really cute, seeing them all scramble for the ball, and they gave us another “good job” dance, so it was worth it. Honestly, these kids could be throwing rocks at us and it would be the cutest thing ever.
Lunch today was the same as yesterday, but with beef, not chicken. While I have progressed far enough to be able to eat a chicken I have met, I simply cannot bring myself to start eating beef. I have confused my fellow CABDA workers, who asked what was wrong, since I didn’t take tea or eat lunch. I felt bad, and hungry, and tried to explain it in the least crazy way possible, saying that I don’t eat any meat that doesn’t come from a chicken, but I don’t think that helped. I tried to get across that my particular idiosyncrasies should not in any way change the way that they do things, and showed them my biscuits to hopefully make them ok with me not eating.
It was a humid heat today, and it just sapped the energy out of me. I was glad to be sitting there learning about child-to-child approaches to teaching, but sitting for 7 hours is a bit much. I napped during lunch break (since I wasn’t eating).
Group work was very difficult today. The two groups were split up differently, so I was with new people, including a teacher who missed yesterday. He took over the group, despite not knowing what was going on. I actually wanted to hit him with my chair. I cannot abide willfully rude ignorance. One of the CABDA staff found him hilarious, which I found worrying.
To top it off, a rain storm moved in while we were still going. The classroom has no glass in its very large windows, so the rain just blew in through the holes. Neil was just wearing a t-shirt, and when it rains it gets very cold, and one of the teachers called him over to sit between another teacher and himself to warm him up. The rain was so loud that the training could barely go one, as everyone must shout to be heard. Eventually we just stopped working and started talking. Somehow I got involved in a conversation about polygamy. The man who sat to my right has 4 wives, and on the left, seven. I was shocked, as I though the polygamy was on the decrease, something you found only in the most backwards parts of Africa. The group I was sitting with told me that it’s very common, and it isn’t going away, as it’s a tradition. I asked if the government was doing anything about it, since, as they stated, it was one of the biggest spreaders of HIV/AIDS, but they replied that “how can the government do anything when the president has many wives?” It was very difficult to get them to understand that it is illegal in Canada, it’s so ingrained here.
After the rain stopped we started up the class again, but I had stopped paying attention. Towards the end though, some classes began to sing on the other side of the school compound. It was by far the most enjoyable part of the afternoon. With just their voices they were able to make a far better sound than anything I’ve heard on the radio here so far. I would like to take this opportunity to mention how much the music videos here suck. They’re all very juvenile, made up of just a guy standing in front of drawings on the wall or something. Also, rap sucks here.
The ride home was more of the same, although you do not want to be stuck out in the boonies when the rain hits, the ride was a white knuckled one, with the truck sliding left and right on the mud. The women thought it was great, every time we shifted I would gasp; it made them laugh a lot. This time I was pressed so close against the door that my leg went 100% numb, and when I stepped out to let the facilitator out, I collapsed, fully on my ass, skirt flying akimbo. People stood and stared, as Neil put it “ beautiful white girls don’t go flying out of trucks often here.”
We went to the market, after I was able to walk again, to pick up a couple of things, and we decided to check out a restaurant in the hotel there. We walked in, only to be ignored. We sat down, only to be ignored. Neil asked for a menu, and we were told it would talk half an hour for our orders. Nothing new for Kakamega. We try to order, they’re out of everything, and it will actually be two hours before any order can be put in. It felt like one of those French restaurants where waiters refuse to meet your eye, so they don’t have to serve you. It’s possible my outrage at the place came partly from not having eaten since 7:30 that morning, but there is no way I’m going back. Which is a shame, as it would have been nice to have somewhere else to hang out than at the guest house.
We walked home, had some vegetable curry sent to the room, and Neil made some soup to tide me over. So, despite a long day, things have turned out ok today!
Thursday, June 7, 2007
I want a 'good job' dance
June 5th
Today Neil and I went to a training session at a school out in the Muranda district, to learn with the teachers involved with a Child-to-Child program, which is basically teaching them how to get kids involved in health projects so they can feel a part of the process. Driving to teacher training had four of us shoved in the cab of a pickup, it was most cramped. I literally popped out of the cap when the door was opened. There are also four chickens in the trunk, and assumed that they were even less comfortable than us.
We got to CABDA at 8 this morning, as requested by Ephy. She called at 10 last night, waking us from a deep sleep and freaking us both right out. We just stared at the phone for a bit, until we realized we needed to answer it.
At the school where today’s training took place the nursery class wanted to see us, the white people, and so their teacher invited Neil and I in and they did a ridiculously cute dance for us. There were hand and hip actions, and something about doing a really good job. I died.
About half of the 14 teachers that were coming to the training session today were late. I was amused, since you never think of teachers as being late. They were also pretty naughty, unwilling to raise their hands and answer questions, and their answers got more and more ridiculous as the session went on. Finally the facilitator/training leader simply started to call names off of the attendance sheet.
We got split into two groups, and Neil and I both got elected as secretary. By the end of the day there were posters up around the room with our writing on them, getting progressively sloppier. It was just like high school.
I got to sit awkwardly through two tea times. I hate tea. Hate, hate, hate it. And I’m lactose intolerant, o the Kenyan obsession with Chai tea made with half milk does not agree with me. I tried drinking it a couple of times, but it made my stomach hurt, so I decided that simply not partaking was less insulting than me running out of the room to the latrines. The women laughed a lot when I explained that the tea made my tummy hurt.
My concern about the comfort of the chickens proved to be moot, as they were served to us for our lunch. Neil and I stared at the food for a while, unwilling to eat it. Then we realized we were really hungry, and so I sent Neil up to grab two plates that looked the least frightening. I have no idea what we ate. I have yet to get used to the food that we’re served in the field. A large bowl of ugali (maize meal cooked into a thick porridge, left until it hardens), some unknown part of a chicken, and some traditional vegetables which I have now trained myself to swallow whole, as they are so bitter.
At the end of the day they did a clapping thing that they do in a lot of the rural areas we’ve been too. It involves some sort of preparation, pulling your arms out as far as possible and then clapping two or three times to the leaders yell. They say “since we have nothing to give, and you have giving so much, we can clap for you!” Today the leader threw in “flower hands”, which was kind of like jazz hands at the beginning of the claps. I got extra flowers for being so pretty. I liked that. J
The ride home was pretty much the same as the ride there, except instead of chickens there were teachers in the back of the pickup. We dropped them off one at a time all the way to Kakamega Town. I kept thinking how funny it would be to see one of my teachers driving down a bumpy road, clinging onto the bar in the bed of a truck.
For supper we went down to the guest house restaurant, and there was one of the people staying with the Canadians next door having a beer. We sat with him for a bit, and then the project director of ACCES (African-Canadian Continuing Education Society, the Canadian NGO next door to us) showed up. It was nice to converse freely in English for a bit, and it was nice to regale them with our stories of all the troubles we’ve had.
Then, after supper, Lost has started showing on one of the two channels we get, so that was a nice surprise. Watching from the beginning should be fun.
And now, it’s off to bed at 9 again, as we have to get up before 7 to get to work on time. It’s so early though! I’m hoping we can keep this up back home, so that maybe I can go to class and not need a nap at 1 pm every day.
Today Neil and I went to a training session at a school out in the Muranda district, to learn with the teachers involved with a Child-to-Child program, which is basically teaching them how to get kids involved in health projects so they can feel a part of the process. Driving to teacher training had four of us shoved in the cab of a pickup, it was most cramped. I literally popped out of the cap when the door was opened. There are also four chickens in the trunk, and assumed that they were even less comfortable than us.
We got to CABDA at 8 this morning, as requested by Ephy. She called at 10 last night, waking us from a deep sleep and freaking us both right out. We just stared at the phone for a bit, until we realized we needed to answer it.
At the school where today’s training took place the nursery class wanted to see us, the white people, and so their teacher invited Neil and I in and they did a ridiculously cute dance for us. There were hand and hip actions, and something about doing a really good job. I died.
About half of the 14 teachers that were coming to the training session today were late. I was amused, since you never think of teachers as being late. They were also pretty naughty, unwilling to raise their hands and answer questions, and their answers got more and more ridiculous as the session went on. Finally the facilitator/training leader simply started to call names off of the attendance sheet.
We got split into two groups, and Neil and I both got elected as secretary. By the end of the day there were posters up around the room with our writing on them, getting progressively sloppier. It was just like high school.
I got to sit awkwardly through two tea times. I hate tea. Hate, hate, hate it. And I’m lactose intolerant, o the Kenyan obsession with Chai tea made with half milk does not agree with me. I tried drinking it a couple of times, but it made my stomach hurt, so I decided that simply not partaking was less insulting than me running out of the room to the latrines. The women laughed a lot when I explained that the tea made my tummy hurt.
My concern about the comfort of the chickens proved to be moot, as they were served to us for our lunch. Neil and I stared at the food for a while, unwilling to eat it. Then we realized we were really hungry, and so I sent Neil up to grab two plates that looked the least frightening. I have no idea what we ate. I have yet to get used to the food that we’re served in the field. A large bowl of ugali (maize meal cooked into a thick porridge, left until it hardens), some unknown part of a chicken, and some traditional vegetables which I have now trained myself to swallow whole, as they are so bitter.
At the end of the day they did a clapping thing that they do in a lot of the rural areas we’ve been too. It involves some sort of preparation, pulling your arms out as far as possible and then clapping two or three times to the leaders yell. They say “since we have nothing to give, and you have giving so much, we can clap for you!” Today the leader threw in “flower hands”, which was kind of like jazz hands at the beginning of the claps. I got extra flowers for being so pretty. I liked that. J
The ride home was pretty much the same as the ride there, except instead of chickens there were teachers in the back of the pickup. We dropped them off one at a time all the way to Kakamega Town. I kept thinking how funny it would be to see one of my teachers driving down a bumpy road, clinging onto the bar in the bed of a truck.
For supper we went down to the guest house restaurant, and there was one of the people staying with the Canadians next door having a beer. We sat with him for a bit, and then the project director of ACCES (African-Canadian Continuing Education Society, the Canadian NGO next door to us) showed up. It was nice to converse freely in English for a bit, and it was nice to regale them with our stories of all the troubles we’ve had.
Then, after supper, Lost has started showing on one of the two channels we get, so that was a nice surprise. Watching from the beginning should be fun.
And now, it’s off to bed at 9 again, as we have to get up before 7 to get to work on time. It’s so early though! I’m hoping we can keep this up back home, so that maybe I can go to class and not need a nap at 1 pm every day.
To church we go...
June 3rd
Today we went back to Ephy and Morris’s Church. The service this week was more in line with the services back home, with a few notable exceptions.
When we walked in just before 10, all the people were talking to themselves and some were walking back and forth along the isles, other were kneeling next to the walls. One guy stayed kneeling with his arms up in the air for the full half hour of beginning prayers. It was most impressive, if not totally understandable to me. Ephy came over to us to explain that this was the time to pray for yourself, and the church. She then went back to pacing. Neil and I sat with our hands clasped. Neil was deep in thought for about 10 minutes, and then he started to just look around. I obviously was looking around too, if I noticed this.
At around 10:30 the pastor started to sing, and everyone joined in and slowly moved back to their seats. There was the song, a prayer, for a while, and then he started to pray quite exuberantly, shouting out to Jesus, and everyone joined in. There was quite a din for that first hour. It’s so very different than back home.
The songs that are sung are quite simple and repetitive, and about half of them are in English.
There are two or three pastors that preach on any given Sunday, and the senior pastor is a visitor, and he is trying to reform the church. The services used to go from 9:30 in the morning to about 2 or 2:30, but he explained that people are afraid to come to the church, since it lasts so long. So, when Ephy first told us about her church, she laughed because we were surprised (and worried) about how long it lasts. Today, however, it only went to 12:15. I didn’t think that 10 to quarter past 12 seemed to long, but Neil sure did. During one of the sermons, which was more of a reflection on the bible, bringing in different actors (like Joseph and Moses) to talk about being chosen, and having a destiny set out for you, I noticed Neil and the little girl in front of him playing. She would turn around and grab his pant leg, and he would poke her hand, and she would turn around, only to do it again in a moment. He said afterwards that the kids were the only thing keeping him awake and interested.
At the beginning of the service, after announcements, the pastor asked any visitors to come to the front. Since we had stood up a week before, we didn’t need to, but he still pointed out “his brother and sister from Canada”, and mentioned how glad he was to have us there. It was really nice, but slightly embarrassing. I now have more sympathy for the people that Rev. Keith points to during our services.
At the end of the services there is a healing time, when people who are ill come to the front and the pastors put their hands on them and pray. The first time this happened, the people fell down after they were finished, but today was more subdued, and they just went back to their seats. I’m not sure how I feel about this part of it, as I worry that they might be forsaking actual medical treatment in favour of the church’s power. On the other hand, if it makes them feel even a bit better, who am I to criticize and take that away from them?
After church we got into the van to get dropped off at home, and I was surprised to notice Morris and two of the pastors blessing the car. They are leasing the van right now, seeing if they want to buy it, so I guess they wanted to bless it just in case. Eventually Ephy came over and joined in, the four of them standing with their hands on the hood, praying out loud to themselves. And inside sat Humphrey, the driver, Neil and I, and four kids. It was a bit awkward.
Other than that, it was a lazy Sunday, which was quite nice and needed.
Today we went back to Ephy and Morris’s Church. The service this week was more in line with the services back home, with a few notable exceptions.
When we walked in just before 10, all the people were talking to themselves and some were walking back and forth along the isles, other were kneeling next to the walls. One guy stayed kneeling with his arms up in the air for the full half hour of beginning prayers. It was most impressive, if not totally understandable to me. Ephy came over to us to explain that this was the time to pray for yourself, and the church. She then went back to pacing. Neil and I sat with our hands clasped. Neil was deep in thought for about 10 minutes, and then he started to just look around. I obviously was looking around too, if I noticed this.
At around 10:30 the pastor started to sing, and everyone joined in and slowly moved back to their seats. There was the song, a prayer, for a while, and then he started to pray quite exuberantly, shouting out to Jesus, and everyone joined in. There was quite a din for that first hour. It’s so very different than back home.
The songs that are sung are quite simple and repetitive, and about half of them are in English.
There are two or three pastors that preach on any given Sunday, and the senior pastor is a visitor, and he is trying to reform the church. The services used to go from 9:30 in the morning to about 2 or 2:30, but he explained that people are afraid to come to the church, since it lasts so long. So, when Ephy first told us about her church, she laughed because we were surprised (and worried) about how long it lasts. Today, however, it only went to 12:15. I didn’t think that 10 to quarter past 12 seemed to long, but Neil sure did. During one of the sermons, which was more of a reflection on the bible, bringing in different actors (like Joseph and Moses) to talk about being chosen, and having a destiny set out for you, I noticed Neil and the little girl in front of him playing. She would turn around and grab his pant leg, and he would poke her hand, and she would turn around, only to do it again in a moment. He said afterwards that the kids were the only thing keeping him awake and interested.
At the beginning of the service, after announcements, the pastor asked any visitors to come to the front. Since we had stood up a week before, we didn’t need to, but he still pointed out “his brother and sister from Canada”, and mentioned how glad he was to have us there. It was really nice, but slightly embarrassing. I now have more sympathy for the people that Rev. Keith points to during our services.
At the end of the services there is a healing time, when people who are ill come to the front and the pastors put their hands on them and pray. The first time this happened, the people fell down after they were finished, but today was more subdued, and they just went back to their seats. I’m not sure how I feel about this part of it, as I worry that they might be forsaking actual medical treatment in favour of the church’s power. On the other hand, if it makes them feel even a bit better, who am I to criticize and take that away from them?
After church we got into the van to get dropped off at home, and I was surprised to notice Morris and two of the pastors blessing the car. They are leasing the van right now, seeing if they want to buy it, so I guess they wanted to bless it just in case. Eventually Ephy came over and joined in, the four of them standing with their hands on the hood, praying out loud to themselves. And inside sat Humphrey, the driver, Neil and I, and four kids. It was a bit awkward.
Other than that, it was a lazy Sunday, which was quite nice and needed.
Part II - Illness, Boredom
Sometime on Monday May 21st Courtney began to feel ill, and towards the night she developed a fever and started to get shooting pains in her stomach. The next day she still had a fever and the pains were quite intense, so I went next door to get a thermometer and ask advice. It turns out the three Canadians had all gotten food poisoning from the restaurant attached to our complex, and no longer eat there. I grabbed a thermometer from the Finns and ran back to Courtney. In an idiotic attempt to sterilize the thermometer, I poured boiling water over it, expanding the mercury far beyond its capacity, and shattering the end of it, spilling blobs of mercury over the sink. My mind flashing through any information I might know about mercury gas and poisoning, I covered my mouth with my shirt and ran into the bedroom and closed the door, where Courtney was in bed to tell her what happened, as she continued to have intense stomach pains and obviously needed to go to the hospital. That was a low point. So I went next door (a businessman has an office right next to our room) and talked to him for the first time, asked him about mercury and if water from the sink was recycled in the complex (he said no), and if I could use his phone. We called Ephy who came to pick us up and bring us to one of Kakamega’s hospitals. According to our health insurance we’re supposed to call their hotline in Toronto BEFORE going to the hospital if we want everything to be covered, so after dropping Ephy and Courtney off at the hospital, I dashed out to the post office/telecom building to try make a collect call to Toronto. After much frantic inquiry it seemed that nobody knew what a collect call was, and there was no operator, I bought the largest phone card I could find and called the number, to be informed I had ‘two and a half minutes’ remaining on my card… which got me through the automated voice prompts and a minute of talking to the guy on the line, I don’t know if he ever got our full ID number, but I said forget it, the money’s not the important thing, and rushed back to the hospital to find Courtney drinking a pink goopy substance from a cup. The hospital then tested her for typhoid and malaria, and the results came back positive for typhoid, and negative for malaria. Perplexed (and frightened) by her typhoid, Ephy decided to take us to a private lab to redo the tests, thinking that the hospital was not reliable and might give a diagnosis simply to sell the treatment. The private clinic gave the same results, but the lab technician told us that a typhoid vaccination could give a false positive… so we went back to the office and tried to use the internet to get friends at home (thanks Erin and Craig!) to call the travel clinic we got our shots at to find out if they had given Courtney Typhoid vaccine or not. Of course, the time difference meant that the clinic was not open in Canada, so we had to wait around for and hour and a half in the office waiting for morning to come in Canada, while Courtney sat drooped, looking like she was dying, on a plastic lawn chair. Once we knew it wasn’t typhoid we figured it could be food poisoning and we went back home to give Courtney a liquid diet and hope she’d fight it off.
The next day she wasn’t any better, so with the help of a contact a neighbor had in another hospital, we brought her to a different hospital, where she was inexplicably brought to the pediatric ward. Nonetheless the doctor seemed quite sure she had malaria (even though we’re both on anti-malarials) (and even though both tests said she didn’t have malaria) and prescribed a 4-day pill treatment, which we picked up from a chemist (as well as a new thermometer to replace the Finns’). Alas, the medication gave Courtney new pains and symptoms, so after a few days we didn’t know if she was suffering from malaria, or malaria treatment. The good news, of course, is that by the end of the weekend, she was feeling much better, and the only thing that stuck around is a congested cough which she still has.
Another aspect of Courtney’s illness is the boredom of sitting around our apartment all day with a limited number of things to do. Now that she’s better, we still stay indoors all evening, as it gets dark at 7pm sharp and we’ve been advised not to go out at night. We have a TV in the room with 3 channels on it – two Kenyan broadcasters and one from a satellite which occasionally changes… but it’s been the ‘Hallmark Channel’ for about 2 weeks now, which broadcasts old family movies and between them repeatedly shows the same clips from a handful of shows as special ‘Hallmark Moments’, even though they generally involve things blowing up and people canoodling. The Kenyan stations have news several times a day, sometimes in English and sometimes in Swahili, as well as an assortment of North American shows. Donald Trump’s ‘The Apprentice’ is fun to watch, but ‘The Swan’, a reality competition based on taking ‘ugly duckling’ women and giving them radical reconstructive plastic surgery is only fodder for our conversation… but we still watch it. Other than TV we’ve been playing cards and reading books and not much else. In a recent trip to Kisumu we picked up a chess board, a book on how to learn Swahili, and a laptop, so we’ve got more things to do now but once work picks up we should have more engaging things to do in the evening.
The next day she wasn’t any better, so with the help of a contact a neighbor had in another hospital, we brought her to a different hospital, where she was inexplicably brought to the pediatric ward. Nonetheless the doctor seemed quite sure she had malaria (even though we’re both on anti-malarials) (and even though both tests said she didn’t have malaria) and prescribed a 4-day pill treatment, which we picked up from a chemist (as well as a new thermometer to replace the Finns’). Alas, the medication gave Courtney new pains and symptoms, so after a few days we didn’t know if she was suffering from malaria, or malaria treatment. The good news, of course, is that by the end of the weekend, she was feeling much better, and the only thing that stuck around is a congested cough which she still has.
Another aspect of Courtney’s illness is the boredom of sitting around our apartment all day with a limited number of things to do. Now that she’s better, we still stay indoors all evening, as it gets dark at 7pm sharp and we’ve been advised not to go out at night. We have a TV in the room with 3 channels on it – two Kenyan broadcasters and one from a satellite which occasionally changes… but it’s been the ‘Hallmark Channel’ for about 2 weeks now, which broadcasts old family movies and between them repeatedly shows the same clips from a handful of shows as special ‘Hallmark Moments’, even though they generally involve things blowing up and people canoodling. The Kenyan stations have news several times a day, sometimes in English and sometimes in Swahili, as well as an assortment of North American shows. Donald Trump’s ‘The Apprentice’ is fun to watch, but ‘The Swan’, a reality competition based on taking ‘ugly duckling’ women and giving them radical reconstructive plastic surgery is only fodder for our conversation… but we still watch it. Other than TV we’ve been playing cards and reading books and not much else. In a recent trip to Kisumu we picked up a chess board, a book on how to learn Swahili, and a laptop, so we’ve got more things to do now but once work picks up we should have more engaging things to do in the evening.
Part I – Roads, Church, and Neighbors
It’s been over 2 weeks since I’ve written a full narration of what we’ve been doing in Kenya, and a fair amount has occurred (worst of it is Courtney’s malaria) so I’m going to split this into a few pieces. After I catch you up on what life’s been like for us here, I’ll write more about CABDA, the work it does, and the groups it assists.
So, to start where we left off, Saturday May 19th, we visited Kakamega’s famed rainforest to the East of the town (and since my writing style is such that I am not always capable of returning to a topic, I’ll just say now that it was neat but fairly inauthentic. We drove into a western-style small resort which had been cleared out of the rainforest by an American couple who lived and died there. We took a short hike through the forest which only gave us a small taste and we will need to return to bigger trail another time. Driving out of the resort Courtney spotted monkeys high up in the trees which we stopped to watch and snatch a few photos). To get there we drive half an hour down dirt roads, passing through Murhanda sub-location where CABDA works with 4 grandmother caregiver groups. Roads are narrow by Canadian standards, extremely rocky, hole-y, ravine-y, and bumpy, full of people moving in either direction with water, produce (lots of women with platters of bananas on their heads), firewood, herds of cattle, donkeys, chickens roaming around, bicycle taxis, and people standing around watching, talking, or tending a fire. Because the roads are so rough, the only lane is the lane-of-least-resistance—your vehicle bobs and weaves around people, bikes while seeking the flattest piece of road. Whenever a vehicle comes in the opposite direction, there is almost always a few moments in which a head-on collision appears immanent. But people are used to this driving style and have no problems slowing down so other cars can duck out of the way – and honking is less an expression of anger and more an important way of communicating with the many kinds of road travelers. When we are riding boda-bodas (bicycle taxis with a padded seat behind the main bicycle seat) I’m always impressed with the cyclists’ similar ability to (safely, so far) follow the lane-of-least-resistance in crowded city streets while operating a human-powered (‘man-powered’ wouldn’t be politically incorrect in this case: only males pedal bicycles) from a lower position in the road hierarchy.
The drive to the Kakamega Forest I’m describing is typical… we’ve driven down other dirt roads for other purposes often, and the scene is always the same. We attract considerable attention passing through the roads (also everywhere we go), and if I were to estimate on it I’d say that about half the people that see us stop to look at us as we pass by. For the kids we can smile and wave at them (it’s not inconceivable that in some cases we’re the first white people they’ve ever seen), but among adults, and especially young adult males who look angry, it can be a bit disconcerting, although I haven’t let it bother me much.
In all the literature I read about this region of Western Kenya it is described as overpopulated. It is the ‘most overpopulated’ part of Kenya, and this is frequently cited as a contributing factor to the regions high levels of poverty. When I was reading all this before coming here I formed certain images in my head of what this meant on the ground. These descriptors of Kakamega’s problems of poverty and overpopulation were so clear-cut and backed up with statistics that I quite plainly expected to ‘see overpopulation’ and ‘see poverty’ once I was here. And indeed, simply driving down the road, you see people everywhere, and walking past the markets you’re among throngs of people milling about the street. And yet… there’s nothing unnatural about it. The market is simply a busy marketplace in a fair-sized city. The roads have lots of people on it, but if you took any road in Toronto and removed every person in a car and put them at the side of the street, there could be just as many people. I was expecting extensive slums everywhere, yet most people (outside the city… much of which could be considered akin to our suburbs) have more land than most Canadians on which they grow household staples and crops to bring to market. I’ve seen a lot that could be considered poverty – people who need them unable to buy shoes, unable to pay school fees, unable to find work, left to idleness and drink, children with distended stomachs (only a couple so far). Yet for the most part people work, eat, talk, drink tea… they get on. What I mean is, we haven’t seen abjection and destitution… people aren’t ‘so bummed out’ about their poverty… they live full lives in ways that their material circumstances permit.
Where was I? Saturday the 19th we went to the forest, and on Sunday we were invited to Ephy and Morris’ (our hosts) church. Ephy is the woman I met in Toronto at the Stephen Lewis Foundation’s Grandmothers gathering last year. I actually met Morris there too but didn’t say more than hello to him. Ephy runs CABDA, for whom we’re interning, and Morris runs a larger and more established organization named KAMADEP. KAMADEP was called an exemplar of Kenya’s NGO’s (non-governmental organization) by the nation’s NGO Board, a government body that oversees NGO activities and directs them towards development goals (we met two representatives of the Board while they were visiting Kakamega). KAMADEP is located close to our guest house so we can walk there easily. Currently the property is in the midst of great activity as last year Morris conceived of the idea of building a 4-story training centre with group space on the bottom floor and guest rooms on the top 3 floors. Morris is very proud of the project, and indeed it’s a huge investment. Thus we’ve had an interesting opportunity to see Kenyan construction close-up, as Morris has taken us inside the building-in-process at a couple points in its completion. In our first visit, the walls and ceiling of the first floor was done, but the structure was still being ‘set’—so the first floor had columns upon columns of logs upright from floor to ceiling… seemingly keeping the whole building together. In our second visit the logs had been removed and we were able to wander around the bottom floor. The building has a steel-enforced (rebar) concrete skeleton and walls of large stone blocks and bricks. Logs and thick sticks are utilized extensively for various purposes, and there are large piles of them outside the construction area (as well as piles of bricks and sand). KAMADEP itself has about 35 employees, a fleet of motorbikes which workers use to get to the field, and couple vehicles and drivers. The work the organization does surrounds various projects in water and sanitation, community governance, agriculture (they have a couple beekeeping projects), microcredit, and gender equity. Morris left his job as a civil servant and started it 7 years ago, and Ephy worked in it with him for a while before leaving to start her own NGO. They are a power-couple. They have three kids, two boys and a daughter, the eldest, aged 7-12.
So every Sunday the 5 of them go to their Quaker church for 9:30 in the morning, and don’t get out until 1 or 2pm. The kids go to bible school behind the church and Ephy and Morris go to service by themselves, but a lot of other parents there have young children with them in the service. After today (June 3rd), all I can say is thank god for those children! There’s been one or two kids in front of us both times we went who, fascinated by our whiteness, stare at us or, today, grab and poke me. So I’m able to play little peek-a-boo and poking games with the kids to keep me entertained during the long service! Really though, the service is rather different than I’m used to (admittedly I’m not much of a church-goer, and while I’ve sampled a few denominations I haven’t seen all the varieties of services in Canada), I enjoy parts of it, and it deserves description. The church itself is like most buildings in the area… a concrete base of walls with corrugated metal roofing supported by wooden beams. There is hardly any decoration, and haven’t noticed a crucifix in any Quaker church so far. There is a good sound system with Peavey amplifiers and an extensive mixing station, to which 5 or 6 microphones, a keyboard and a bass guitar are connected. People sit in plastic lawn chairs facing forward (there were maybe 80 people there the first time, and 40 the second time) and two people stand at the pulpit. The service is conducted in Swahili and English, with the pastor leading in English and the other translating into Swahili (though there are multiple pastors that take turns ministering and sometimes guest pastors, so sometimes its Swahili being translated into English). The pastors speak passionately and rousingly, and the overlay of pastor and translator is often quite lyrical. Sometimes the pastor paces back and forth shouting rapidly, banishing the devil out of the church, and everyone responds, waving their arms to cast out satan, first out the front windows, then out the back door, then out the windows, and when he says something that people agree with them shout ‘amen’, or ‘yes’, usually in unison. The sermon itself is often literally lyrical, when the keyboardist and bassist begins to play, and everyone gets up and interacts with the service, dancing to the rhythm, ducking down low and swinging their arms with the pastor, raising their arms to receive god’s blessings and gifts, and when a choir assembles behind the pastor people stand up and sing along. In one segment of the service, people are given time to pray, in their own private communion with their lord, and the organ plays on powerfully, and the pastor paces and continues to speak, but this time his voice is added to by the voices of everyone else in the room, praying aloud but in no set script, a directed chaos of emotion that sends shivers down my spine each time its happened, and people are so moved that they cry, that they drop to their knees and raise their arms to the sky, that they pace back and forth and scrunch up their face and keep on praying aloud. It’s not something I can fully participate in but it’s a lot of energy and I sat and I listened to it and tried to watch without being obtrusive. Then the choir begins to sing and everyone returns to unison and sings along before returning to their seat. The bible part of the service isn’t something I can say much about, because it’s the part I amuse myself thinking about other things and making googley eyes with children, but Courtney is more familiar with the material and pays attention. After the service (at length) finishes, we mill around a bit shaking hands and saying hello to people until we get a ride home.
That particular Sunday we were invited over for tea by a Finnish couple that lives in the building next to ours, one of whom is working with KAMADEP for Save the Children Finland. The building is the home base for a Canadian NGO based on Vancouver – ACCES (African Canadian Continuing Education Society) and there were three Canadians living there when we visited… one student our age just finishing an 8 month CIDA internship with the organization, and an older couple working for 6 months. ACCES runs 7 schools in the region, which are private schools in a sense, but function like public schools. The organization has a philosophy of being entirely Kenyan run, and Canadian operations are just for fundraising, plus they send interns to help out, but not as overseers, as a Canadian involvement component. The Finns and Canadians are more established than we are so they’ve been able to give some advice for food, cooking, and health, as well as lend a couple books (‘The in-between world of Vikram Lall’ is a great book, read it!) to us.
So, to start where we left off, Saturday May 19th, we visited Kakamega’s famed rainforest to the East of the town (and since my writing style is such that I am not always capable of returning to a topic, I’ll just say now that it was neat but fairly inauthentic. We drove into a western-style small resort which had been cleared out of the rainforest by an American couple who lived and died there. We took a short hike through the forest which only gave us a small taste and we will need to return to bigger trail another time. Driving out of the resort Courtney spotted monkeys high up in the trees which we stopped to watch and snatch a few photos). To get there we drive half an hour down dirt roads, passing through Murhanda sub-location where CABDA works with 4 grandmother caregiver groups. Roads are narrow by Canadian standards, extremely rocky, hole-y, ravine-y, and bumpy, full of people moving in either direction with water, produce (lots of women with platters of bananas on their heads), firewood, herds of cattle, donkeys, chickens roaming around, bicycle taxis, and people standing around watching, talking, or tending a fire. Because the roads are so rough, the only lane is the lane-of-least-resistance—your vehicle bobs and weaves around people, bikes while seeking the flattest piece of road. Whenever a vehicle comes in the opposite direction, there is almost always a few moments in which a head-on collision appears immanent. But people are used to this driving style and have no problems slowing down so other cars can duck out of the way – and honking is less an expression of anger and more an important way of communicating with the many kinds of road travelers. When we are riding boda-bodas (bicycle taxis with a padded seat behind the main bicycle seat) I’m always impressed with the cyclists’ similar ability to (safely, so far) follow the lane-of-least-resistance in crowded city streets while operating a human-powered (‘man-powered’ wouldn’t be politically incorrect in this case: only males pedal bicycles) from a lower position in the road hierarchy.
The drive to the Kakamega Forest I’m describing is typical… we’ve driven down other dirt roads for other purposes often, and the scene is always the same. We attract considerable attention passing through the roads (also everywhere we go), and if I were to estimate on it I’d say that about half the people that see us stop to look at us as we pass by. For the kids we can smile and wave at them (it’s not inconceivable that in some cases we’re the first white people they’ve ever seen), but among adults, and especially young adult males who look angry, it can be a bit disconcerting, although I haven’t let it bother me much.
In all the literature I read about this region of Western Kenya it is described as overpopulated. It is the ‘most overpopulated’ part of Kenya, and this is frequently cited as a contributing factor to the regions high levels of poverty. When I was reading all this before coming here I formed certain images in my head of what this meant on the ground. These descriptors of Kakamega’s problems of poverty and overpopulation were so clear-cut and backed up with statistics that I quite plainly expected to ‘see overpopulation’ and ‘see poverty’ once I was here. And indeed, simply driving down the road, you see people everywhere, and walking past the markets you’re among throngs of people milling about the street. And yet… there’s nothing unnatural about it. The market is simply a busy marketplace in a fair-sized city. The roads have lots of people on it, but if you took any road in Toronto and removed every person in a car and put them at the side of the street, there could be just as many people. I was expecting extensive slums everywhere, yet most people (outside the city… much of which could be considered akin to our suburbs) have more land than most Canadians on which they grow household staples and crops to bring to market. I’ve seen a lot that could be considered poverty – people who need them unable to buy shoes, unable to pay school fees, unable to find work, left to idleness and drink, children with distended stomachs (only a couple so far). Yet for the most part people work, eat, talk, drink tea… they get on. What I mean is, we haven’t seen abjection and destitution… people aren’t ‘so bummed out’ about their poverty… they live full lives in ways that their material circumstances permit.
Where was I? Saturday the 19th we went to the forest, and on Sunday we were invited to Ephy and Morris’ (our hosts) church. Ephy is the woman I met in Toronto at the Stephen Lewis Foundation’s Grandmothers gathering last year. I actually met Morris there too but didn’t say more than hello to him. Ephy runs CABDA, for whom we’re interning, and Morris runs a larger and more established organization named KAMADEP. KAMADEP was called an exemplar of Kenya’s NGO’s (non-governmental organization) by the nation’s NGO Board, a government body that oversees NGO activities and directs them towards development goals (we met two representatives of the Board while they were visiting Kakamega). KAMADEP is located close to our guest house so we can walk there easily. Currently the property is in the midst of great activity as last year Morris conceived of the idea of building a 4-story training centre with group space on the bottom floor and guest rooms on the top 3 floors. Morris is very proud of the project, and indeed it’s a huge investment. Thus we’ve had an interesting opportunity to see Kenyan construction close-up, as Morris has taken us inside the building-in-process at a couple points in its completion. In our first visit, the walls and ceiling of the first floor was done, but the structure was still being ‘set’—so the first floor had columns upon columns of logs upright from floor to ceiling… seemingly keeping the whole building together. In our second visit the logs had been removed and we were able to wander around the bottom floor. The building has a steel-enforced (rebar) concrete skeleton and walls of large stone blocks and bricks. Logs and thick sticks are utilized extensively for various purposes, and there are large piles of them outside the construction area (as well as piles of bricks and sand). KAMADEP itself has about 35 employees, a fleet of motorbikes which workers use to get to the field, and couple vehicles and drivers. The work the organization does surrounds various projects in water and sanitation, community governance, agriculture (they have a couple beekeeping projects), microcredit, and gender equity. Morris left his job as a civil servant and started it 7 years ago, and Ephy worked in it with him for a while before leaving to start her own NGO. They are a power-couple. They have three kids, two boys and a daughter, the eldest, aged 7-12.
So every Sunday the 5 of them go to their Quaker church for 9:30 in the morning, and don’t get out until 1 or 2pm. The kids go to bible school behind the church and Ephy and Morris go to service by themselves, but a lot of other parents there have young children with them in the service. After today (June 3rd), all I can say is thank god for those children! There’s been one or two kids in front of us both times we went who, fascinated by our whiteness, stare at us or, today, grab and poke me. So I’m able to play little peek-a-boo and poking games with the kids to keep me entertained during the long service! Really though, the service is rather different than I’m used to (admittedly I’m not much of a church-goer, and while I’ve sampled a few denominations I haven’t seen all the varieties of services in Canada), I enjoy parts of it, and it deserves description. The church itself is like most buildings in the area… a concrete base of walls with corrugated metal roofing supported by wooden beams. There is hardly any decoration, and haven’t noticed a crucifix in any Quaker church so far. There is a good sound system with Peavey amplifiers and an extensive mixing station, to which 5 or 6 microphones, a keyboard and a bass guitar are connected. People sit in plastic lawn chairs facing forward (there were maybe 80 people there the first time, and 40 the second time) and two people stand at the pulpit. The service is conducted in Swahili and English, with the pastor leading in English and the other translating into Swahili (though there are multiple pastors that take turns ministering and sometimes guest pastors, so sometimes its Swahili being translated into English). The pastors speak passionately and rousingly, and the overlay of pastor and translator is often quite lyrical. Sometimes the pastor paces back and forth shouting rapidly, banishing the devil out of the church, and everyone responds, waving their arms to cast out satan, first out the front windows, then out the back door, then out the windows, and when he says something that people agree with them shout ‘amen’, or ‘yes’, usually in unison. The sermon itself is often literally lyrical, when the keyboardist and bassist begins to play, and everyone gets up and interacts with the service, dancing to the rhythm, ducking down low and swinging their arms with the pastor, raising their arms to receive god’s blessings and gifts, and when a choir assembles behind the pastor people stand up and sing along. In one segment of the service, people are given time to pray, in their own private communion with their lord, and the organ plays on powerfully, and the pastor paces and continues to speak, but this time his voice is added to by the voices of everyone else in the room, praying aloud but in no set script, a directed chaos of emotion that sends shivers down my spine each time its happened, and people are so moved that they cry, that they drop to their knees and raise their arms to the sky, that they pace back and forth and scrunch up their face and keep on praying aloud. It’s not something I can fully participate in but it’s a lot of energy and I sat and I listened to it and tried to watch without being obtrusive. Then the choir begins to sing and everyone returns to unison and sings along before returning to their seat. The bible part of the service isn’t something I can say much about, because it’s the part I amuse myself thinking about other things and making googley eyes with children, but Courtney is more familiar with the material and pays attention. After the service (at length) finishes, we mill around a bit shaking hands and saying hello to people until we get a ride home.
That particular Sunday we were invited over for tea by a Finnish couple that lives in the building next to ours, one of whom is working with KAMADEP for Save the Children Finland. The building is the home base for a Canadian NGO based on Vancouver – ACCES (African Canadian Continuing Education Society) and there were three Canadians living there when we visited… one student our age just finishing an 8 month CIDA internship with the organization, and an older couple working for 6 months. ACCES runs 7 schools in the region, which are private schools in a sense, but function like public schools. The organization has a philosophy of being entirely Kenyan run, and Canadian operations are just for fundraising, plus they send interns to help out, but not as overseers, as a Canadian involvement component. The Finns and Canadians are more established than we are so they’ve been able to give some advice for food, cooking, and health, as well as lend a couple books (‘The in-between world of Vikram Lall’ is a great book, read it!) to us.
Friday, June 1, 2007
Random bits to tide you over until I can write something real again.
It's freedom day, Makarada Day, and so we get the day off! I'm at Ephy's husbands work, as they have some computer issues they'd like us to look at. Apparently who can and cannot get the day off is quite arbitrary, cause everyone here is working.
My cough is still around but I am generally very healthy, which is a nice change. Although as soon as I was well enough to wander around the apartment I kicked the couch and broke my middle toe on my left foot and cut a chunk out of my arm. Typical, eh? Luckily I brought lots of band aids and polysporn, and Neil brought duct tape that I was able to tape up my foot with.
We went to Kisumu yesterday, about the equivalent of going to Toronto from Aurora, is Toronto was a dirty unorderly, hell hole of a place. I cannot stop dreaming of Canadian orderliness, civility, and politeness. There seem to be no real driving rules, except to stay to to the right or left, and not hit anyone. Crossing the street almost makes me faint, and driving down the road with cars coming within inches of the side of the car is horrific. On the plus side, I'm getting used to the roads, which are full of holes and bumps and every other hazard. At one point as we were driving, Neil took a picture of a road side stand in Kisumu, and the flash went off. A bunch of young men standing around say it, and started yelling at us and waving their arms. It was most unsettling. As with every other experience, Neil is definitely dealing better with all this.
We did get to shop in the first big box type store here, a huge Nakumat, where we were able to get things like Ragu pasta sauce, and imported sliced turkey, so it was worth the trip.
We also had pizza with Ephy in the food court. It's amazing what you miss after such a short time. mmmm.... pizza.....
I don't know if Neil mentioned this (I read his posts, they're just long!) but guess where our next door neighbours are from!!! White Rock, British Columbia! Isn't that insane? They're a lovely older couple here for six months doing work with Canadian sponsored schools. They offered to take us to the market, which I am still afraid of, but it started to rain, so we'll have to do it another time. It rains everyday here, and it RAINS. It's starting to get cold, actually. Which is a bit annoying, cause, I mean, it's Africa!
Well, that's all I have time for right now! I hope that everyone back home is doing well!
All my love,
Courtney
My cough is still around but I am generally very healthy, which is a nice change. Although as soon as I was well enough to wander around the apartment I kicked the couch and broke my middle toe on my left foot and cut a chunk out of my arm. Typical, eh? Luckily I brought lots of band aids and polysporn, and Neil brought duct tape that I was able to tape up my foot with.
We went to Kisumu yesterday, about the equivalent of going to Toronto from Aurora, is Toronto was a dirty unorderly, hell hole of a place. I cannot stop dreaming of Canadian orderliness, civility, and politeness. There seem to be no real driving rules, except to stay to to the right or left, and not hit anyone. Crossing the street almost makes me faint, and driving down the road with cars coming within inches of the side of the car is horrific. On the plus side, I'm getting used to the roads, which are full of holes and bumps and every other hazard. At one point as we were driving, Neil took a picture of a road side stand in Kisumu, and the flash went off. A bunch of young men standing around say it, and started yelling at us and waving their arms. It was most unsettling. As with every other experience, Neil is definitely dealing better with all this.
We did get to shop in the first big box type store here, a huge Nakumat, where we were able to get things like Ragu pasta sauce, and imported sliced turkey, so it was worth the trip.
We also had pizza with Ephy in the food court. It's amazing what you miss after such a short time. mmmm.... pizza.....
I don't know if Neil mentioned this (I read his posts, they're just long!) but guess where our next door neighbours are from!!! White Rock, British Columbia! Isn't that insane? They're a lovely older couple here for six months doing work with Canadian sponsored schools. They offered to take us to the market, which I am still afraid of, but it started to rain, so we'll have to do it another time. It rains everyday here, and it RAINS. It's starting to get cold, actually. Which is a bit annoying, cause, I mean, it's Africa!
Well, that's all I have time for right now! I hope that everyone back home is doing well!
All my love,
Courtney
Monday, May 28, 2007
Late arrival notes
[Well this post is now 10 days out of date, but I thought I’d post it for consumption anyway. It was written 3-4 days after we arrived, while first impressions were still fresh, and before (as you can see below) Courtney caught malaria and everything got put on hold (she’s much better now). Today is our first day back at the office and we’ve resumed work on a quarterly report for an American NGO on a CABDA project with orphans and vulnerable children and their caregivers. We’re having fun working on it because its an actual application of some of our schooling, and all that stuff about qualitative and quantitative indicators is finally seeming useful. It may be a busy week as we start working again, we’re going to complete this report, head south to Vihiga to meet some beneficiaries of Stephen Lewis Foundation funding (to begin developing a couple of case studies from the project), and head to Kisumu to buy a cellphone and some amenities. Anyway, here’s what I wrote over a week ago!]
March 17/18
Well, there are many (many) hiccups and surprises, and there are health concerns, and I am worried about Courtney [worries which proved well-founded when she got Malaria!], but I really love it here. I’m sitting alone in an elevated restaurant in our complex sipping chai tea, the national drink. It’s served just the way I like it – milky and sweet . The milk is cooked with the water and the tea leaves, which is given to you in a small teapot that pours a good three cups. They must cook it fresh, as it took 15 minutes for the tea to arrive. They give you a bowl of unrefined sugar ( the same stuff that is becoming fashionable in the coffee shops at home) made only 34km up the road at the Mumias Sugar Factory. One spoonful makes a very delicious desert tea, and has been offered to us on several occasions. ‘Anytime is tea time’ is indeed a common expression here. If we were being served food someone would bring us a jug of water and a large bowl and pour water over our hands for us to wash before eating anything. There is only sometimes a bar of soap in the bowl and it takes a lot of water to rinse off soap, which I feel bad about using, but sanitation is very important considering everything we are coming into contact with. We receive excelling service in our hotel and in restaurants. Part of this may be a high expectation upon the workers here, but I feel that our skin colour puts us into a different consideration. I frequently feel I’m assuming a distinctly colonial position as I sit in British styled dining rooms being served by highly deferential African waiters. But we’re just silly Canadian kids and we’re trying to be friendly with everyone and show that we are equals. We befriended one of the restaurant workers, Sammy, who has been very friendly with us. But there is still a level of formality in all interactions, much of which we are culturally unfamiliar with. I think we get away with just being cute as we try to speak Swahili in appropriate ways. Today we learned a Luhya word (as I expected, most urban people in Kakamega speak their mother tongue – one of 17 dialects of Luhya – Swahili, and English) to say to people we met ‘in the field’ today – ‘milembe’ – meaning peace/greetings. The roomful of people we addressed (!) that didn’t speak English got a kick out of us using it – - more on that later. Courtney’s really good at noticing social behaviors and finding out what they mean. For instance, she noticed when certain people shook our hands, they would hold their biceps, which turns out to be a sign of respect. Now we can use it with people we should show respect to, and win social points! She might not realize it, but Courtney’s long experience schmoozing in social circles translates very well here and she is extremely observant. I know she is overwhelmed and still coping with changes, but I have to say she has acted absolutely perfectly in every situation we have been in and has been the best travel companion I could ask for.
We are certainly in an odd situation – everywhere we go, we are the only white people we see – and there are lots of people here (70,000 in the city and 400,000 in the division). Certainly we stand out, and we are objects of attention when we go down the streets. People generally treat us with respect, curiosity, or excitement, though. Smiling at children seems to please them and make them laugh. Other people just ignore us or speak about us amongst themselves – we often hear ‘mzungu’ (white person) in Swahili conversation around us. This morning we took ‘boda boda’ rides to work at 8 in the morning, which we first did with Ephy yesterday. Boda bodas are bicyclists with padded seats behind the riders seat. The streets are filled with boda bodas and you can get one as soon as you step out onto the road. The riders’ balance and strength are very impressive as they lug us around over bumpty dirt/mud roads, rocks, and (scarily) through traffic. Yesterday Ephy told us that 20 shillings was an appropriate price for a ride to work. This morning the two of us went out and grabbed two boda’s – were told them where we were going and told them we would pay 20 shillings. He said no – 110 shillings – I said no, 30 shillings – he said ‘ok’. They try to give us mzungu prices! Really though, it’s a ridiculously small amount of money to pay for what they are doing for us, and once we have more change/small bills I will be happy to pay more for their work – but not necessarily because it is mzungu price.
But we are received as honoured guests most everywhere we go. We shake everybody’s hands and learn their names, we are brought food and tea and asked how we can be helped or what we would like to know. We are received well because we are guests, but also because of our being with Ephy and CABDA, for whom the people they work with are grateful. Today we visited the offices of a government representative where an elected group of residents of the sublocation (the smallest division of space in Kenya) had gathered for training on caring for springs in the area (there are 8 springs in the sublocation). We didn’t even know where we were going or who we were going to see when we pulled up to the office (having just been told we are going ‘into the field’ – also I should clarify that by office I mean a piece of land with a rudimentary building on it, a small field of maize, some animals wandering around, and a pit latrine behind it). We got out of the car and all of a sudden people started streaming out of the building (about 25 in all), clapping their hands, singing in Luhya or Swahili, dancing, and wrapped us in colourful cloths. Ephy leaned over to us and whispered ‘oh yeah, you’ll have to dance’ – so we started shuffling our feet to the rhythm, and a couple people grabbed our hands and danced with us. Courtney pulled back and snapped a couple pictures of me dancing. After this went on for a few minutes we danced our way into the building and were sat down in front of everyone while the group sang for another few minutes. When this finished the people officiating the training, Ephy, and the government representative took turns gracing and thanking us and one another for the work being done, the training, the driver, the people, etc… Everyone stood up and introduced themselves, then we were asked to introduced ourselves and say a few works, with Ephy translating us to the group. It seemed to go well, and they were pleased with the local words we know. It was fun, I had a big grin on my face the wold time. Unfortunately when they came to serve us lunch (probably the least appetizing so far), Courtney got one whiff of the food and ran out to the latrine to throw up (she didn’t). She was sick the rest of the day. We’re still kind of fragile, and we had slept very badly the night before (also the milk we had at breakfast probably upset her stomach). Anyway, we skipped a visit to a spring and drove back to town to get some water (Dasani – Coca-Cola is everywhere). We then stopped by Ephy’s husband’s office, checked our emails, and found out we have received a grant from CIDA (HOORAY!) for the trip – which will greatly improve the work we can do here. We relaxed at home for the rest of the day and got to sleep around 11.
I’d still like to recount our visit to a primary school where we were swarmed by curious children, but we are getting picked up soon. Courtney took some gravol last night, slept well, and is feeling healthy this morning, just groggy. I am still blowing my nose lots but other than that, good.
From the Kakamega Sheywe guest house,
This is Neil,
Signing out.
March 17/18
Well, there are many (many) hiccups and surprises, and there are health concerns, and I am worried about Courtney [worries which proved well-founded when she got Malaria!], but I really love it here. I’m sitting alone in an elevated restaurant in our complex sipping chai tea, the national drink. It’s served just the way I like it – milky and sweet . The milk is cooked with the water and the tea leaves, which is given to you in a small teapot that pours a good three cups. They must cook it fresh, as it took 15 minutes for the tea to arrive. They give you a bowl of unrefined sugar ( the same stuff that is becoming fashionable in the coffee shops at home) made only 34km up the road at the Mumias Sugar Factory. One spoonful makes a very delicious desert tea, and has been offered to us on several occasions. ‘Anytime is tea time’ is indeed a common expression here. If we were being served food someone would bring us a jug of water and a large bowl and pour water over our hands for us to wash before eating anything. There is only sometimes a bar of soap in the bowl and it takes a lot of water to rinse off soap, which I feel bad about using, but sanitation is very important considering everything we are coming into contact with. We receive excelling service in our hotel and in restaurants. Part of this may be a high expectation upon the workers here, but I feel that our skin colour puts us into a different consideration. I frequently feel I’m assuming a distinctly colonial position as I sit in British styled dining rooms being served by highly deferential African waiters. But we’re just silly Canadian kids and we’re trying to be friendly with everyone and show that we are equals. We befriended one of the restaurant workers, Sammy, who has been very friendly with us. But there is still a level of formality in all interactions, much of which we are culturally unfamiliar with. I think we get away with just being cute as we try to speak Swahili in appropriate ways. Today we learned a Luhya word (as I expected, most urban people in Kakamega speak their mother tongue – one of 17 dialects of Luhya – Swahili, and English) to say to people we met ‘in the field’ today – ‘milembe’ – meaning peace/greetings. The roomful of people we addressed (!) that didn’t speak English got a kick out of us using it – - more on that later. Courtney’s really good at noticing social behaviors and finding out what they mean. For instance, she noticed when certain people shook our hands, they would hold their biceps, which turns out to be a sign of respect. Now we can use it with people we should show respect to, and win social points! She might not realize it, but Courtney’s long experience schmoozing in social circles translates very well here and she is extremely observant. I know she is overwhelmed and still coping with changes, but I have to say she has acted absolutely perfectly in every situation we have been in and has been the best travel companion I could ask for.
We are certainly in an odd situation – everywhere we go, we are the only white people we see – and there are lots of people here (70,000 in the city and 400,000 in the division). Certainly we stand out, and we are objects of attention when we go down the streets. People generally treat us with respect, curiosity, or excitement, though. Smiling at children seems to please them and make them laugh. Other people just ignore us or speak about us amongst themselves – we often hear ‘mzungu’ (white person) in Swahili conversation around us. This morning we took ‘boda boda’ rides to work at 8 in the morning, which we first did with Ephy yesterday. Boda bodas are bicyclists with padded seats behind the riders seat. The streets are filled with boda bodas and you can get one as soon as you step out onto the road. The riders’ balance and strength are very impressive as they lug us around over bumpty dirt/mud roads, rocks, and (scarily) through traffic. Yesterday Ephy told us that 20 shillings was an appropriate price for a ride to work. This morning the two of us went out and grabbed two boda’s – were told them where we were going and told them we would pay 20 shillings. He said no – 110 shillings – I said no, 30 shillings – he said ‘ok’. They try to give us mzungu prices! Really though, it’s a ridiculously small amount of money to pay for what they are doing for us, and once we have more change/small bills I will be happy to pay more for their work – but not necessarily because it is mzungu price.
But we are received as honoured guests most everywhere we go. We shake everybody’s hands and learn their names, we are brought food and tea and asked how we can be helped or what we would like to know. We are received well because we are guests, but also because of our being with Ephy and CABDA, for whom the people they work with are grateful. Today we visited the offices of a government representative where an elected group of residents of the sublocation (the smallest division of space in Kenya) had gathered for training on caring for springs in the area (there are 8 springs in the sublocation). We didn’t even know where we were going or who we were going to see when we pulled up to the office (having just been told we are going ‘into the field’ – also I should clarify that by office I mean a piece of land with a rudimentary building on it, a small field of maize, some animals wandering around, and a pit latrine behind it). We got out of the car and all of a sudden people started streaming out of the building (about 25 in all), clapping their hands, singing in Luhya or Swahili, dancing, and wrapped us in colourful cloths. Ephy leaned over to us and whispered ‘oh yeah, you’ll have to dance’ – so we started shuffling our feet to the rhythm, and a couple people grabbed our hands and danced with us. Courtney pulled back and snapped a couple pictures of me dancing. After this went on for a few minutes we danced our way into the building and were sat down in front of everyone while the group sang for another few minutes. When this finished the people officiating the training, Ephy, and the government representative took turns gracing and thanking us and one another for the work being done, the training, the driver, the people, etc… Everyone stood up and introduced themselves, then we were asked to introduced ourselves and say a few works, with Ephy translating us to the group. It seemed to go well, and they were pleased with the local words we know. It was fun, I had a big grin on my face the wold time. Unfortunately when they came to serve us lunch (probably the least appetizing so far), Courtney got one whiff of the food and ran out to the latrine to throw up (she didn’t). She was sick the rest of the day. We’re still kind of fragile, and we had slept very badly the night before (also the milk we had at breakfast probably upset her stomach). Anyway, we skipped a visit to a spring and drove back to town to get some water (Dasani – Coca-Cola is everywhere). We then stopped by Ephy’s husband’s office, checked our emails, and found out we have received a grant from CIDA (HOORAY!) for the trip – which will greatly improve the work we can do here. We relaxed at home for the rest of the day and got to sleep around 11.
I’d still like to recount our visit to a primary school where we were swarmed by curious children, but we are getting picked up soon. Courtney took some gravol last night, slept well, and is feeling healthy this morning, just groggy. I am still blowing my nose lots but other than that, good.
From the Kakamega Sheywe guest house,
This is Neil,
Signing out.
Sunday, May 27, 2007
Tales from the dark side.
Hello all!
Sorry for lack of communication. To catch you all up to date, I fell ill with malaria this past week. (I know, I know, always sick!) I am now well on my way to recovery, with only a cough, mild stomach ache and er, fewer toilet problems to deal with.
If the medication hadn't worked, I wouldn't have believed I actually had malaria, since I still deny ever being bitten by a mosquito. I was actually glad, however, when the young doctor decided it was malaria, because I figured at least you can cure that. And of the two diseases that they were tossing around, malaria sounds better than typhoid.
Sparing you most of the details, it was a week of hell. Absolutely. Why is there no vaccine against this I have to ask. I was in agony, and the hotel staff hated us, as Neil had to keep going down to get bunches of toilet paper. I couldn't eat, I couldn't sleep. I read, a lot, in the bathroom really. It became the most convenient spot for me to hang out.
Neil was fantastic, much better than even I could have been. He stayed with me through everything, got me medications and yogurt to take them with, and then sat with me to make sure I got down at least a cup full of it, even though I wanted to eat nothing. He did cooking and cleaning, wet towels to put on me to break my fevers, and even got up with me in the middle of the night when I was sick. I cannot express how grateful I am that he was with me.
Last night I ate my first large meal, vegetable curry and chapatis (which is basically a flour pancake used to scope the food up.). I was very glad that I was able to eat again. And, all the coughing is starting to give some definition to my stomach, which is almost a plus. (Just kidding!!!)
Well, I just really wanted to break a week's silence and let everyone know that I'm alright!
I hope everyone at home is doing well! I miss you all, especially this past week, and have never really felt as young as I did when we weren't sure what was wrong with me. It makes you very grateful for your loved ones!
All my love,
Courtney
Sorry for lack of communication. To catch you all up to date, I fell ill with malaria this past week. (I know, I know, always sick!) I am now well on my way to recovery, with only a cough, mild stomach ache and er, fewer toilet problems to deal with.
If the medication hadn't worked, I wouldn't have believed I actually had malaria, since I still deny ever being bitten by a mosquito. I was actually glad, however, when the young doctor decided it was malaria, because I figured at least you can cure that. And of the two diseases that they were tossing around, malaria sounds better than typhoid.
Sparing you most of the details, it was a week of hell. Absolutely. Why is there no vaccine against this I have to ask. I was in agony, and the hotel staff hated us, as Neil had to keep going down to get bunches of toilet paper. I couldn't eat, I couldn't sleep. I read, a lot, in the bathroom really. It became the most convenient spot for me to hang out.
Neil was fantastic, much better than even I could have been. He stayed with me through everything, got me medications and yogurt to take them with, and then sat with me to make sure I got down at least a cup full of it, even though I wanted to eat nothing. He did cooking and cleaning, wet towels to put on me to break my fevers, and even got up with me in the middle of the night when I was sick. I cannot express how grateful I am that he was with me.
Last night I ate my first large meal, vegetable curry and chapatis (which is basically a flour pancake used to scope the food up.). I was very glad that I was able to eat again. And, all the coughing is starting to give some definition to my stomach, which is almost a plus. (Just kidding!!!)
Well, I just really wanted to break a week's silence and let everyone know that I'm alright!
I hope everyone at home is doing well! I miss you all, especially this past week, and have never really felt as young as I did when we weren't sure what was wrong with me. It makes you very grateful for your loved ones!
All my love,
Courtney
Saturday, May 19, 2007
Courtney's First Post!
Hi everybody!
Things are going better for me. I am calming down. Every good day usually has something not so good though. I got a stomach bug yesterday and insulted a bunch of rural women by running out of the room where they were serving the food and being ill in the latrine. I'll be avoiding milk from now on, as I think that is what made me sick. Neil kept trying to feed me, and I just wanted to sleep. I almost hit him. But I took 2 gravol, and I was better this morning. Although I slept for a very, very long time.
Today has been a good day, with no problems so far. (Cross your fingers for me!) We went to part of the Kakamega Forest today, and saw some really cool trees and birds and buterflies and some monkies. Ephy's three kids came with us, and they were upset they didn't see any in the forest, but when we were driving down the road to leave I spotted some, so we got out of the car and took photos. It was pretty neat. One of them kept posing for us.
We've found a supermarket that I like, so shopping and cooking for ourselves should happen more often now. Hopefully that will mean less illnesses.
Tomorrow we're going to a Quaker church, where service lasts from 10:30 to 2 in the afternoon. It should be an interesting experiance!
Gotta go, we're sitting in Ephy's husband's office, as we're wary to wander off to the cyber cafe on our own yet.
Lots of love,
Courtney
Things are going better for me. I am calming down. Every good day usually has something not so good though. I got a stomach bug yesterday and insulted a bunch of rural women by running out of the room where they were serving the food and being ill in the latrine. I'll be avoiding milk from now on, as I think that is what made me sick. Neil kept trying to feed me, and I just wanted to sleep. I almost hit him. But I took 2 gravol, and I was better this morning. Although I slept for a very, very long time.
Today has been a good day, with no problems so far. (Cross your fingers for me!) We went to part of the Kakamega Forest today, and saw some really cool trees and birds and buterflies and some monkies. Ephy's three kids came with us, and they were upset they didn't see any in the forest, but when we were driving down the road to leave I spotted some, so we got out of the car and took photos. It was pretty neat. One of them kept posing for us.
We've found a supermarket that I like, so shopping and cooking for ourselves should happen more often now. Hopefully that will mean less illnesses.
Tomorrow we're going to a Quaker church, where service lasts from 10:30 to 2 in the afternoon. It should be an interesting experiance!
Gotta go, we're sitting in Ephy's husband's office, as we're wary to wander off to the cyber cafe on our own yet.
Lots of love,
Courtney
Friday, May 18, 2007
First, scattered update (we're alive!)
Hi all, we're.... alive in Kenya! Which I'm sure is a relief for you to hear. It's been an intense experience already, with much learning, some anxiety... and not much that we're used to (although the drug store here was strangely filled with Colgate Total and Listerine). We had an ill-planned adventure in Nairobi which happily ended in an animal orphanage, where we got to see a lot of Kenya's animals within hours of landing. Our waits in the airport were excruciatingly long, and the sleep deprivation was becoming quite bad. I'm not going to give many details now, but it's 5:50pm on thursday, we arrived in Kakamega last night and drove up a 'highway' (dirt road) to Ephy's family's place, which is surrounded by a corrugated metal fence (9 feet tall) and a security guard (everything has security guards here), had dinner and met a few people, then came back to our appartment. The appartment itself is fairly nice... living room, cooking facilities, two beds (one large), bathroom with toilet and shower. It's on the top floor of a building contained within a larger villa-like complex.... but screens were missing from the window, there were holes in our malaria mosquito nets, a car alarm was going off all night, we were woken up by the sounds of lots of animals in the morning. Also I took the first cold shower of my life this morning.... though we got the hot water working afterwards. I woke up around 10:30 this morning, and i had slept through soem heavy rains because i took some drowsy cough and cold medication last night... oh yeah, because i got sick on the plane going out of toronto, and i'm still blowing my nose. I think its beginning to clear up.
Everything is kind of indescribable, and we're right int he imddle of it, so i'm not sure how useful i'm going to be in giving you a picture of what we've been seeing. Courtney's kind of overwhelmed, deeply out of her comfort zone, but i hope that soon she will feel more comfortable, and we will just be careful about where we are going. There are lots and lots of people streaming through the streets and in the markets, when we were driving up the highway even at night in the pitch black, people were walking and biking up and down the street. The roads are fairly insane (and we got a taste of this in Nairobi on an ill-concieved and slightly accidental adventure which ended up in an animal orphanage)... there are no traffic lights, people drive on the left side of the road (which adds to the disconcertedness), everyone jaywalks, there are tons of bicycles, and the general rule of the road is 'don't hit anyone', other than that it's all fair game. Every oncoming vehicle on the highway seemed lik an impending head-on collission because the road is so bad that normally you just drive on the best part of it, then move to the side for any oncoming cars (the road was not very busy). After driving up the main road into Kakamega we turned off the road and started driving through what looked like a jungle tunnel, with trees on either side and above us... a corridor of the forest. Thenw e came out into 'residental areas' where ephy lives.
Today we went out with Ephy to the CABDA office, so we got to see kakamega in the daylight. In the morning i spred open a curtain and was somewhat stunned by what i could see... green hills dipping below us, some of it being cultivated, a group of people on the grass slaughtering a cow, 5 other cattle grazing (in our complex) and a bunch of young animals... a school sitting on one of the hills, then the market up the way on the road full of people. Ephy picked us up and warned us that we were be called 'Mzungu' (white person), but not to be offended. Indeed, we're almost the only white people here... Courtney is aware of people ("everyone") looking at us as we walk by (and there's lots of people), which I'm not as aware of... but we're definitely something to look at. We've seen 3 other white people today, but that's all since we left the Airport.
We met Ephy's family and her husband, Morris, who runs another, larger organization. I'm really pleased with them, them have put thought into what we can be doing, and today we sat down with Ephy and talked about a work plan. Her first idea was for us to finance and implement the building of of water tank/rain catchment for a school, but today we decided to fund a microcredit group and work with them in the various programs of training they get as a part of their loan. Ephy is going to rewrite our intern descriptions and further break down our tasks, as well as add ones which we've suggested... building a website, seeking funding, putting together packages to send out to potential and current donors, develop case studies... we're both really pleased with the range of things we have been invited to work in, and we may be able to contribute to. With our current fundraising $1600, we have enough to give a microcredit loan of 3500 shillings to 25 people. The normal program would be 5000 shillings for 25 people, so if we get the grant, or if we recieve more donations, we will be able to run a full program.
We have been able to withdraw money without difficulty, and i am about to check if these have included conversion fees or not (there's not, or if there are, they are very reasonable). It seems we will only be working with cash, withdrawing what we need when we need it. I just found out that our hosts are waiting outside for us so i'll cut this short now. We're alive, we're coping, we've a lot to learn and we've learned a lot already. We're learning some swahili, we're nzuri (fine), but will need a fair amount of time to adjust.
We've gotta go!
Much love
Neil
Everything is kind of indescribable, and we're right int he imddle of it, so i'm not sure how useful i'm going to be in giving you a picture of what we've been seeing. Courtney's kind of overwhelmed, deeply out of her comfort zone, but i hope that soon she will feel more comfortable, and we will just be careful about where we are going. There are lots and lots of people streaming through the streets and in the markets, when we were driving up the highway even at night in the pitch black, people were walking and biking up and down the street. The roads are fairly insane (and we got a taste of this in Nairobi on an ill-concieved and slightly accidental adventure which ended up in an animal orphanage)... there are no traffic lights, people drive on the left side of the road (which adds to the disconcertedness), everyone jaywalks, there are tons of bicycles, and the general rule of the road is 'don't hit anyone', other than that it's all fair game. Every oncoming vehicle on the highway seemed lik an impending head-on collission because the road is so bad that normally you just drive on the best part of it, then move to the side for any oncoming cars (the road was not very busy). After driving up the main road into Kakamega we turned off the road and started driving through what looked like a jungle tunnel, with trees on either side and above us... a corridor of the forest. Thenw e came out into 'residental areas' where ephy lives.
Today we went out with Ephy to the CABDA office, so we got to see kakamega in the daylight. In the morning i spred open a curtain and was somewhat stunned by what i could see... green hills dipping below us, some of it being cultivated, a group of people on the grass slaughtering a cow, 5 other cattle grazing (in our complex) and a bunch of young animals... a school sitting on one of the hills, then the market up the way on the road full of people. Ephy picked us up and warned us that we were be called 'Mzungu' (white person), but not to be offended. Indeed, we're almost the only white people here... Courtney is aware of people ("everyone") looking at us as we walk by (and there's lots of people), which I'm not as aware of... but we're definitely something to look at. We've seen 3 other white people today, but that's all since we left the Airport.
We met Ephy's family and her husband, Morris, who runs another, larger organization. I'm really pleased with them, them have put thought into what we can be doing, and today we sat down with Ephy and talked about a work plan. Her first idea was for us to finance and implement the building of of water tank/rain catchment for a school, but today we decided to fund a microcredit group and work with them in the various programs of training they get as a part of their loan. Ephy is going to rewrite our intern descriptions and further break down our tasks, as well as add ones which we've suggested... building a website, seeking funding, putting together packages to send out to potential and current donors, develop case studies... we're both really pleased with the range of things we have been invited to work in, and we may be able to contribute to. With our current fundraising $1600, we have enough to give a microcredit loan of 3500 shillings to 25 people. The normal program would be 5000 shillings for 25 people, so if we get the grant, or if we recieve more donations, we will be able to run a full program.
We have been able to withdraw money without difficulty, and i am about to check if these have included conversion fees or not (there's not, or if there are, they are very reasonable). It seems we will only be working with cash, withdrawing what we need when we need it. I just found out that our hosts are waiting outside for us so i'll cut this short now. We're alive, we're coping, we've a lot to learn and we've learned a lot already. We're learning some swahili, we're nzuri (fine), but will need a fair amount of time to adjust.
We've gotta go!
Much love
Neil
Thursday, April 19, 2007
Inaugural Post
Hello all and welcome to our blog.
Stay tuned for our thoughts, experiences, and reflections as we make our way this summer in Kenya.
Stay tuned for our thoughts, experiences, and reflections as we make our way this summer in Kenya.
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