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.