Oh the life and times

I board a matatu first scoping out my favorite seat- it is taken this time, so I settle for a window seat. As I sit a crowd of grown men gather and start tapping at the window. Tap Tap "Hello Sister" Tap Tap " Mzungu" Tap Tap " Promote me today". At this point I realize I will never own a fish again. The tapping reminds me of playing with my Beta fish Fred, trying desperately to get a reaction from him ( sorry Fred, R.I.P). After living (close too) this town for one year, I imagined this would stop; it has not. The town is just too big, and mzungus too few ( I've counted 12 in the past year, most just going to the supermarket) I am a main attraction. I have learned to take these reaction with a grain of humility and humor, but it is still difficult ( I have had my first gray hair to prove it)!

As we begin the journey multiple people are literally breathing down my neck, I become a contortionist, as I twist a turn, fitting more and more people into the vehicle. Arms tucked in, neck turned to one side, balancing my bananas on my leg, matatus are never full; there is always room. I look out the window to the rolling mountains and changing sky. My mind runs through a labyrinth of thoughts, my eyes traces the shambas, the mountains, the jacaranda trees, the maize stalks, the clouds, I am in my own world, fully present but magically gone. The driver stops in front of the sign St. Luke's Special School and again somehow weave myself out.

Here it is among the watchful eye of Mount Kenya looming in the West tucked in between the hills in the distance, my own personal slice of happiness. The students perched on top of a termite hill point and sign my name, the race begins. Three young boys race to help me with my bag, Ken the fastest little kid always wins out, but I always find something for Paul and Martin to carry. I always pass Bernard sweeping the dirt, his smile would melt even the hardest heart.When we reach my house the crowd has formed- asking me to play frisbee or catch or color or read. I tell them in a bit , and hurriedly unpack my things and head out.

Jackline and Faith spot me in the distance and they come running towards me with arms open hugging my legs as I approach. Rebecca and Stella now spot me and each grab an arm, I twirl them in circles until the giggle with dizziness. Others join we play, we dance, we climb trees, we practice sign language, we practice spelling, we throw balls, we chase, we fall, we are happy. The wind whips through the grass and it tickles are feet. The evening is approaching and we watch the sky change colors.

My one year in Kenya has been a tapestry of thoughts, stories, feelings, awareness, but the common thread of happiness has been my students. They define every moment, this school has given me, a place to be.

I am not a farmer, but I pretend!

Sarah: The kids have no pencils.
Me: I just gave the whole school pencils a few weeks ago!
Sarah: They probably ate them, these children eat everything.
Me: A whole pencil...they would eat it.
Sarah: Yes.

This was not a signed conversation but I thought it was amusing; in fact I have many of these conversations through out the day which are always funny!

So the rains have begun, finally after nearly a year of living in Kenya I have yet to experience the full rains...until now! Everyone is very happy, and are even thankful for the tons of mud stuck to their feet! I told my students how in America we sing song for the rain to go away! A few of my students were curious to know the song, but others refused to sign the song because rain means that food grows, without the rains there is no food, its interesting the lesson you are taught by a 10-year-old.

Since everyone in my area is busy planting and tending to their farms I decided I should do the same. I am currently attempting to grow tomatoes (Nyanya), green pepper (Ho Ho) and cilantro (daniya). So far the chickens have learned to scale the gate I built in August, although I did not see the chicken myself the children reported back to me; Ginnie: 0 Chicken:39,876. I love eating chicken now but merely for vengeance! We will see how or if I get any food from this shamba but working with the kids with it has been fun at least.

Another result of the rains is having no dry clothes! I have been attempting to dry my jeans for 3 days. Today I just got greedy, the sun was shining and the birds were singing, they were basically dry except for a few inches, I thought " hey why not", torrential down pour...that is why not! So I guess it is getting another rinse, along with all my other clothes!

The rains also bring bugs, so many bugs, good thing my bug tolerance is at an all time high, now I days I casually pick the beetles off instead of flailing to get them off. Of coarse at first when I jumped from a beetle attack the kids laughed and then ate the beetle, go figure. Catching flying termites is the new past-time at my school. The termites come from the ground and normally the kids just find the hole and pop one in, just like a candy, right? There is also a method of hitting your sweater against the ground which somehow gets the termite? I have to be explained this again, I think. I will fully admit I have eaten termites myself (this somehow reminds me of the 2nd grade when people use to tease "Ginnie eats bug" now I can say yes I do) they are not bad, kind of taste like fried eggs.

The term is wrapping up as we prepare for the KCPE, the final exams, essentially. I am busy with reviewing, and also trying to pull things together for the new group of Volunteers coming in tomorrow! We are planning an HIV/AIDS camp and 4 of my students are going! I am very excited to meet the new group, and have my kids participate in the camp!

A Kenyan Birthday

“And in the end, it's not the years in your life that count. It's the life in your years.”
Abraham Lincoln

Patrick, the bravest 3-year-old you'll ever meet ( and chronic dirt eater)! This is my door he is looking up into, he was attached to my leg the first 2 weeks of school.

Embu Town from my birthday hike, and you can see the edges of Mount Kenya, and if you look closely the purple circle of Jacaranda trees .

My birthday cake and celebration!

Once a year a day rolls around—some dread it, other relish in it, but to me birthdays are meant to be celebration of another year lived. This month has not been the easiest for me, I’ve spent more time in the hospital then I care to mention, and outside of the hospital in bed, sick. So this week when I finally felt better, (after nearly 3 weeks of being sick) I decided I wanted to celebrate and appreciate my health on my birthday. Birthdays aren’t really celebrated here, in fact most of my students don’t know on which day, or even which month they were born! Naturally I didn’t expect much when I told my neighbor my birthday was coming up; yet while I was at the hospital I received warm text messages that I should have “a quick recovery, that my birthday celebration was being planned”.

I finally returned to school I knew what I wanted to do for my birthday; climb a mountain. Behind my house there is a mountain in direct view, I love watching the sun travel around the mountain; changing the colors of the sky and the mountain itself, blue in morning, sweltering red in the evening, and finally a deep purple, before darkness covers the land like old familiar blanket. I stare and admire this mountain constantly, so naturally this would be my birthday gift to myself! My friend and bike partner (the school’s watchman) agreed to climb it with me. To my surprise he arrived right on time to hike, I was on Kenyan time and had not yet eaten. I made my favorite dish quesadillas (I even sprung for cheese in town) with mango salsa! The watchman had never had cheese before, and I tried to explain it was not butter! So we enjoyed our meal and headed out.

We hiked past the river—full from the rains, which have begun. Walking through shambas greeting children, and nearly everyone who crossed our paths. I could tell a few minutes into our journey that I had made a rookie-hiking mistake: wore the wrong shoes. I had never wore these shoes before, but I felt my hiking boots would be to heavy especially since I had been assured that this hike would be an hour ( of coarse all of our trips are always supposed to be an hour, but normally last 5, I should of known). I continued on with the discomfort, but aware of a possible problem ahead. We climbed up gently sloping hills; green from the recent rain, admired valleys dotted with farms, all while under the watchful protection of Kirinyga ( or more commonly known as Mount Kenya). The sun seemed closer, an intimate friend tapping on our backs trying figure out where we were going. A gentle breeze whipped through and provided much needed relief. The sky was the most vivid blue, speckled with puffy white, endearing, clouds. We hiked on dirt roads that I assumed would lead us straight to the top. We stopped at a farm to confirm the route. My friend spoke in Kiembu but I could make out the family pointing into the bush, yes, technically I could see a path, but I could also see how one could not even walk standing up through this path because a canopy of thorny bushes was arched together. I decided we should try a less menacing route. We walked up the road until we found a more open path and continued upward. From this height I could see the town of Embu; protected by a circle of purple (Jacaranda trees are in full bloom this month). Behind the town the expansiveness of Mount Kenya was overwhelming. To the East I could see my school; which was just dot amongst the rolling green hills. At this point my feet were throbbing with pain, I check and confirmed that my toes were raw-- blisters popped. We continued upward but the path we followed just disappeared! We would scout path, after path only to find it leading straight into thorns. We tried several different paths finally deciding to descend, to avoid going further and further into the bush. On our way down we encountered the same problem trails leading to oblivion of thorns. I began evoking my “ Man Vs. Wild” skills which I soon realized were few ( its been too long since I’ve seen it!). To make things worse descending only made my toes beg for mercy, the pain was overwhelming I had to remove my shoes—because of this my feet were exposed to thorns and other things on the forest ground, but I preferred that to excruciating pain of wearing my shoes. We continued through the bush, pole pole
(slowly slowly) until we were surrounded by bush, but we could tell the road was close—we finally decided we would have to crawl through an archway of thorns to get out. Ginnie Vs Wild, I seriously looked like I got into a fight with a tree, twigs poking out of my hair, dirt on my face, and scratched on my arms and legs, but we were free! We reached the main road again and I walked barefoot through the village, my feet pounding on the red cracked dirt. Most people in my village cannot afford shoes and most walk around barefoot anyway, although seeing a “mzungu” without shoes was truly a shock! Losing the path had taken a lot of time, now the sun was setting I could see it transforming the area to a peaceful purple, yet the sun itself was a perfect ball of orange adjacent to the mountain. Finally we arrived to familiar land by nightfall, taking each step into complete darkness, I made it home.

I quickly examined my poor feet—luckily due to nearly a year of solely wearing open toed shoes the bottom of my feet are like steal, if only that could be said about my toes, I’ll spare you the details but it was gross! My neighbor’s children came to inform me that I should come over in one hour’s time for my “party”. I showered, and prepared myself and headed over. I could see a table with cake with pink frosting with the words “ happy birthday” written on top! I smiled with excitement and joined my neighbor’s family and a few staff members at the table. I was meant to cut the cake with my “best friend” I choose my neighbor’s small daughter. We cut the cake and was informed I was to be feed—this 9-year-old with fork in hand choose the biggest piece that I was eat in one bite! I did my best and then was informed she had to serve me a drink, this cup being pushed towards my face I feared I would choke, but ended up fine! I was sung happy birthday many times and given a nice card, and of coarse as with every Kenyan celebration we ate….goat.

My first African birthday was a success! I am truly grateful to be healthy once again, to have so many wonderful people who care about me, and of coarse indebted to my parents for raising me (I think we should celebrate “mothers day” on our birthdays whew 9 months of pregnancy)! Getting older for some people is difficult, and yes getting older brings a variety of emotions about life, but when I think of what a crazy, beautiful, hilarious adventure my life has been thus far, well I say bring it on!

Juma nne

“I long, as does every human being, to be at home wherever I find myself.”
Maya Angelou




(pictures of pencils that my friend sent from the states, which my children loved!)


This is the last term of the year, but it has been the most unusual term for me thus far due to series of illness. I'll spare you the details, but it included being the potential 1st volunteer ever to have swine flu; which then to come find out I don't have, but rather just the normal flu.

Being sick and far away from home is an interesting experience, and something that has happened often. In Ghana stuck in my dorm with malaria scare,in Bolvia with dysyntery, and now in Kenya with everything under the sun! Health care varies place to place, but I think the most telling thing about being sick is where you long to be instead of the hospital. I spent two days in Nairobi hospital; and every minute I wanted to be back at my school.

I've spend nearly one year here in Kenya and everyday I forget any other way of life. Bucket baths, purifing water, everything starting hours late; all seem normal to me! Being stuck in the hospital really made me appreciate how much I love my job and how I long to be back "home". This term I teach nearly double what I have before, and it has been a challenge. Most of my students cannot read, or write. I handed them a blank map of Africa and only one knew where Kenya was. I feel so disappointed in the system that had failed these children, but more then that I feel a great challenge in myself.

Somedays I want to cry for these students but I know by just expecting more from them they are growing. One of my students always comes from home with a frigthened look on her face. She seems very uncomfortable with human interaction-- but she lights up with excitment if you ever praise her, and to me moments like that make all the difference. I have seen real progress in a few of my classes-- my KSL class is now, number two for languages in the whole district. I have seen their confidence and curiousity expand and it makes me so proud! Now all I have to do is get healthy so I can return to teaching.

In the past month I had some friends visit from the U.K., I met them in Ghana when I studied there almost 3 years ago. I was very happy to see them after so long and surprised how I felt as if nothing changed. Ghana was an experience that really shaped my life, and it felt "full circle" to showing them around my home in Africa. We exchanged stories from the years gone by and it I showed them my glamous life style! They were blown away by my ability to sleep on a matatu. They said they were saying their prayers and I was dreaming! They tend to be over crowded and therefore stuffed and with all the potholes its like being rocked in a crib, alternatively people has described it as "near death", but I guess its all up to interpretation!

So far less interesting stories here in Nairobi! I have been eating very well and enjoying the company of other Peace Corps volunteers, and the awesome medical staff here, but I hope to be back home soon!

What is your Tribe?

A few weeks ago I was asked this question by an official Kenyan enumerator as part of the census which was occurring. I was taken by surprise because I have never been questioned on my “tribe”, I haphazardly replied “American?” and the census taker marked a number. I left feeling a bit overwhelmed, “what tribe was I?” I repeated in my head. I knew just “American” would never fly in the States, but I have never been sure the answer to this in the states either.

Tribe is a loaded word here in Kenya. After the post election violence where many people suddenly saw each others “tribe”, people who lived and as neighbors for years suddenly became enemies. Teachers attacked their students, the line of friendship and humanity was now blurred between my tribe or not.

Tribe is defined as “a social division in a traditional society consisting of families or communities linked by social, economic, religious, or blood ties, with a common culture and dialect, typically having a recognized leader” I am not sure I could say my community is very “traditional” but then again what does that mean, they keep traditions? From what I can see the Embu people have variety of economic, social, and religion within their tribe, and this is one of the least populous tribes in Kenya. What makes us belong and others not?

When I came to Kenya I expected to come across a lot of resentment amongst people from different tribes—but what I have encountered is almost the opposite. My neighbor commented that she did not want to reveal she was a Kikuyu on the census. Living in a Kikuyu dominated area, I ruled out the possibility that she feared discrimination from others. She simply said, “ I am a Kenyan, and I am teaching my children they are Kenyan”. This is a statement heard across the board from people in my area. This proclamation makes me hopeful about the future of Kenya, but also a bit rueful.

While in the Peace Corps office I stumbled upon a book “ Embu historical text”, it was accounts from village elders who described the oral history of the Embu people. The teachers at the school saw me reading the book and told me how I probably knew more about Embu then the Embu themselves. I tried to discuss the practices the book described and was told “ oh I think my grandfather told me about that, but we don’t do that anymore”. They seemed remorseful for not knowing more, but suggested that modernizing meant change. Is losing culture the price for a better, cohesive, society?

In the U.S I have come across so many bubble sheets questioning me on my “tribe”, I mean “race”. I have always felt uncomfortable answering these questions. I read each bubble looking for my place. My father is from the U.S would that make me white? The text next to White ( not of Hispanic origin), but that would be a lie. My mother is from Guatemala. I would fill both out and was reprimanded to “choose one”, but both felt like a betrayal to the other.

Coming to Kenya, has changed the way I think about “ races” and “tribes”. I can easily say to Kenyans “ I am American” without further questioning; which is impossible in the states. In a way its freeing to not explain “I am half this, half that”, and sometimes feel I am proving my “Americaness”. I also feel a pang of loss, I am part Guatemalan, a rich culture that I believe sometimes more closely resembles Kenya then the States. Is cultural ambiguity the answer, or is there a balancing act of holding on and letting go?

In my experience living amongst other cultures, I have also noticed despite the extreme variation in culture, there is a common thread of humanity that transcends all else. Sharing a belly laugh with Chinese friends in Shanghai, being moved by the kindness of a Bolivian postal worker, sharing a gaze and moment of understand with Ghanaian woman out the window of my tro tro, feeling unconditionally loved by my family in Guatemala, there has to be something said about our ability to see each other as one tribe-- of humanity.

Fast News

Pole sana for the lack of posting. I have been quite busy with training and various meetings and due to power rationing in the country have had a difficult time connecting. Here are some quick updates on my life.

1. I am very happy and proud to be a first time aunt to my beautiful new nephew! It's an interesting experience to be abroad during the time, and of coarse there is a hint of sadness to being so far, but it gives me a reason to go home in 2011.

2. I have restarted my shamba! Few friends and myself built a gate to keep animals out, the process involved climbing tree and cutting off branches to make the posts then buying chicken wire to close it up. This I hope will inspire me to keep it up during the school year). I also (in a fit of boredom) painted all the rocks outside my house bright green, I'll post pictures soon!

3.I have finished an amazing book The Invisible Cure: Africa, the West, and the Fight Against AIDS. I highly recomend this book to anyone working in Africa or anyone interested in HIV/AIDS in Africa.

4.I am very excited to have people visiting me within my service! I cannot wait to make plans and see loved ones and share what has become such a huge part of me.

Velocity

“Nature often holds up a mirror so we can see more clearly the ongoing processes of growth, renewal, and transformation in our lives.”

It’s been awhile. I think as time flys by—things that may have once felt new and exotic; become normal, which makes it difficult to write often, and I am not able to access the internet as often any more as well.

May things have occurred, for one the Deaf Beauty Pageant. The whole day was very fun, an exciting celebration of the Deaf. I met many Deaf people from all over the Kenya ,Tanzania, and Uganda. Thanks to some friends who visited, the whole day ran smoothly—but on Kenya time (very late).

School is closed for the month of August. I miss my students; the school without the students is lifeless! They completed their exams; I awaited their results anxiously. My class 5 KSL did excellent—they are able to do so much, one student even got 100 percent! Class 7 social studies, was not as successful. I know they have learned a lot but the many challenge is still reading, they may know the answer to the test when I sign it, but when it is on the paper they cannot read well enough to understand the question—I have a lot of work for next term. Next term I requested to teach more, so my classes will double—I am excited because I love being in the classroom. I watch them go home with a heavy heart, knowing they may have no one to talk to in their family, or maybe no one who believes in them. September will come soon!

Now that I have had some time off I have finally gone on Safari! I took a trip to the Rift Valley—where all of humanity began! Thousand of years ago from the volcanic valley, modern humans developed, struggled to survive and to my surprise, still do. The area was a contrast to the lush farm land or the central highlands—instead the rain failed, and it is impossibly dry. The area is still beautiful, the valley is deeps with rolling hills, soda lakes, millions of flamingos, and overflowing with animals. I visited Lake Nakuru National Park, which is known for flamingos,and rhinos. Rhinoceros are one of the most endangered species in the world, so I surprised to see so many around the park. I felt unfeasibly small compared to this massive animal, which resembled something from Jurassic park, rather then the world I live in. The park also had many water buffalo—which was also huge- with their large horns and massive weight I was told they actually rule the park. We approached two in our car and I guess we got a bit too close; the water buffalo looked me straight in the eye, and there was no question we knew what he meant; get away. In the park were many baboons, zebra, giraffe, and antelope. The beauty of nature, leaves no question the importance of conservation to ensure the survival of these species.

I also went on safari on Lake Navasha; which was quite different the Lake Nakuru. The place is called Hell’s Gate; it is the only animal park you can walk or bike through. It is one thing when you have comfort of a vehicle giving you (maybe false) security—but when you’re biking there is no question who rules the roost. The landscape was captivating; great valleys, cliffs, and towers of rock. Biking with zebras, giraffe and baboons, one of the humbling and unbeatable experiences thus far. At one point my friends and I approached a family of water buffalo very close to the road. We were standing upwind so, they were unaware of us; for the moment. Our guide spotted a baby—so we knew they would not want us hanging around. We were all advised to ride past as fast as we could, we prepared ourselves and began riding, pumping our pedals, slightly glancing at this massive animals; it was now aware of us and stared at us. It was up to them now whether they perceived us as a threat or not. I spotted a young calf at it side as I speed by; practically holding my breath! It continued to stare as we biked but decided to let us pass. We all breathed a sigh of relief, and giggled with anxious tension.

After biking for a few hours, we decided to hike in a gorge. The whole area is full of geothermal activity—which is constantly changing the landscape. We hiked into a narrow space and clung to the walls as we weaved our way through the small space. A boulder fell blocking the path and accumulating water, which we hiked through and over and revealed, hot springs. I washed off some of the dirt, I was covered in and continued. The gorge opened up to a huge valley. Our guide took us up Massai grazing trails and we saw manyata ( massai home made of wood and cow dung) and got amazing views or the whole gorge. I was with two great friends so, the whole day was unbeatable.

The rest of the month, I am taking it easy. I am trying to arrange a video on HIV/AIDS for the Deaf, and maybe start shooting. I have also begun working with a children's home for HIV positive children, and possibly assisting with income generating activities, and of coarse playing with cute kids! Time is going so fast at times I wish I could just slow it down, but I do my best to just live each moment to the fullest.