July July

This month has been flying! The first picture is from another volunteer's Deaf School, he organized a field day and this was the water balloon toss, I was the last team purple standing.I want to organize one of these for my students next term! The rest of these pictures are from my semi-regular bike adventure with the schools watchman. They normally start with a conversation telling me of a cool site 30 minutes away, that evolve into 6 hour epic journeys of pain! I always enjoy myself though! This latest one involved riding through the rolling green hills, Savannah grasslands, helpful watoto (children). The highlight was the view from the top of the exposed rocks. I could see my school, Mount Kenya, hundred of shambas( farms), the sky extending to the ends of the earth. The lowlight was wiping out! The road could only be described as red dust in which my tire dug into, and I flipped over. I have some cuts and scrapes but I kept on going. I have now earned some "cred" with my students for my scars, so its ok!

Teaching the students how to write is still my main focus, and I see progress polay polay ( slowly slowly). I've been also keeping myself busy with upcoming events with the Deaf community. The main one is next weekend is Mr. and Miss Deaf Beauty. The event will be held at the hotel in town. The main goal in all of this is to promote Deaf pride and culture. We want to expose this pride to the hearing community and encourage parent to send children to school. I am also working on a skit or presentation on HIV/AIDS in KSL and English ( for the hearing who will be there) I hope this will be a good opportunity to spread awareness and lessen the stigma surrounding HIV/AIDS.

One of the goals of the Peace Corps is to share American culture with Kenya and Kenyan culture with Americans. I am always talking with my friends here about America and dispelling rumors ( We eat snakes, we leave TV's on the street, everyone is rich) but I feel maybe I should give more detail to life here in Kenya. So here are the most common questions I get about my life in Kenya.

What do I eat? I eat a lot of vegetables. My situation is a bit different then most volunteers because I do not eat a lot of Kenyan food because the location of my school. I live in the middle of nowhere-- the nearest place to eat is about a 2 hour walk. I can take a matatu into town but its expensive and really not do-able unless I plan to spend some time in town. So I cook my own food. I don't have a refrigerator so I tend to buy food that won't go bad quickly so potatoes and onions! I do eat more then just that, but I do have to plan out my meals for the week based on when I will be able to go to town and when things will go bad. I've made some awesome meals, but I am basically a vegetarian again; no butcher around so I'd have to kill my own food, which takes too long. In fact I am slightly vegan no milk is sold around here so no dairy! Although when I go to Nairobi I eat cheese and bacon like there is no tomorrow so I don't know if that makes me Nairobitarian?

How do I get around? Matatu. Oh Matatus. Imagine a van with 14 seats, now imagine 24 people in this van, many chicken, even more babies, and possibly a goat-- tah dah...matatus! I've gotten used to them for the most part, but there is the occasional day where the chickens scare me or I am smooshed beyond belief, that I want to kick the chickens and jump off, but I don't.

What is the weather like? I live in what is considered the central highlands. It is technically mountain climate area but I am on the Savannah the lowest point on the mountain ( can you tell I am a social studies teacher?) Generally my weather is awesome! Imagine a spring-like weather in the morning and a sunny afternoon. We are now in winter, which means for a few hours in the morning I could technically wear a light sweater, but then it gets sunny again!

How is my farm? Farm is not so good. Lets just say the crops were not chicken proof. The only thing that is surviving is onions! I am not much of farmer, but I am going to build my own fence and try again next rainy season.

What do I do? Most of the time I am a teacher. I don't teach all day like other teachers so I have free time to work on HIV/AIDS projects. I try to spend a lot of time revising my lesson plans and evaluating each student on what worked and what didn't. After school is playtime, I normally color, dance, or read books with the younger children( I teach the older ones).I also read a lot, I actually need to slow down because I won't have much else to read. I can polish off a novel in an afternoon! *shameless plug if you would like to send me books my address is on the side*. I also spend a lot of time just maintaining my household; hand washing clothes, cooking meals, attempting to care for my shamba, scaring the evil chicken away, cleaning everything to keep the ants at bay.

The biggest difference is how simple life is. I'm not sure if it is a change within myself, or if it is Kenya, but life is beautifully simple. I have time to think and enjoy things like never before. I appreciate the smallest things like water,electricity, success in the classroom, or a letter from a friend. I hope this gave you a bit of glimpse into my life in Kenya. I welcome more questions too!

Satisfaction

Signed Conversation:
Me: Electricity finished?
Thomas: Electricity go to Embu, lunch time. (mimics getting into a matatu and eating lunch).

Teaching is strange and wonderful thing. What is it to teach? What is it to learn? I have spent the majority of my life in a classroom—but standing on the other side I imagined would be completely different although I find that its not. As a teacher I also want to be a constant student—always looking for new and different ways to learn. I feel comfortable in front of the classroom; and that is most likely because I know my students. From sweet and shy Silas when he answers a question correctly smiles into his shoulder, class know it all Dennis, to the hilarious Pauline, this is not a mass army staring and judging ( as I imagined it would be) but rather a group of students who want to learn. I am inspired by their curiosity and wit.

My most enjoyable times I’ve had teaching have been showing them a different world outside their own. I show them pictures and books from the far reaches of earth. I can see their eyes—discovering these whole new worlds from the comfort of the classroom. Every Sunday I try to have a “lab” day where we have class, but try to do something that the 35 minutes would not allow. I had a few back issues of National Geographic sent to me, but surprisingly most of the topics I was covering were inside the covers. I can sign about what the ocean is but to children who have never seen an ocean—its the equivalent to signing about dragons or mythical lands, but with these magazines I can show them a four page spread of oceans, icebergs, and deserts! More then anything I encourage their curiosity about the world around them, because it is curiosity that has taken me to 5 different continents and here to Kenya. It is this unexplainable feeling when you can see minds at work, a deep and resounding joy that radiates. When we are done my students all sign “thank you for teaching” and at that very moment everything seems to fit.

Another step I’ve taken as a teacher is devote time to instilling confidence. Many people in Kenya believe Deaf people are dumb, even a common name for the Deaf ‘bu bu’ means dumb in Kiswahili. I know the students internalize some of these cultural thoughts, and I have been trying to change that. I made posters that say “Yes I Can” and had students write their names and draw pictures of their desired future professions. The class normally stands and signs “Hello Teacher” when I enter the room but I have changed the greeting to “Yes I Can” before we start class—and remind them when they approach a difficult task. And it has been difficult! Many of my students cannot read and very few can write. I have spoken to teachers who have alluded to the fact that they have “sort of given up, teaching writing” focusing rather on reading comprehension. I tried to jump into writing short stories and then realized we needed to start from square one, what is a noun, verb, and object? I know I am asking them to try something new, and I realize how difficult it must be, somehow through all of this I have found a patience, I never knew I had. Perhaps it comes from memories of my own struggles in school, until one day something just clicked. I’ve spent the last two months encouraging and explaining, but I do see progress! I am lucky to have such a fulfilling job. Working with children, I am guaranteed a laugh, a hug, and satisfaction in a day of work. Do I need to mention the cuteness factor—look at those faces!


I have also been busy with the Deaf adult community. In the past month I have attended two Deaf leadership seminars and unbeknownst to me was also a speaker at the events! I gave impromptu speeches about being a leader, and peace. Both I sort of rattled off things about Obama (a sure crowd pleaser), the goals of the Peace Corps, and volunteerism. My speeches were very short, but I think enjoyed! The most rewarding part is meeting some very charming and clever people, that I am happy to call friends now.

I have been working closely with the prime organizer in these events. He is a Deaf man from Embu who received a scholarship to study at Gallaudet University, he is back for a few months working on research but also organizing events. It has been a pleasure to work with someone who is enthusiastic about change. Working with him as given me an instant “in” to the community where otherwise I would be pegged as an outsider. Some of the projects include an early assessment center in Embu, where young Deaf children can be evaluated, and a Deaf beauty pageant (the goal is really to instill Deaf pride and expose the Deaf to the hearing community). It is also nice to work with someone who understands American culture, and can sympathize with being far from home.

Being here is often a rollercoaster of emotions. Born from romantic ideas of distant lands and far off places. At times I am alive with curiosity, and wonder, other times alone with just my thoughts. I am realizing there is more too it then just living here. A place or home is not anything until you invest something into it, live it completely; the pain the pleasure, and all the questions. It is bigger then the romantic ideals, or stories, or blogs I can throw together. I am far from everything I have known—but not lost, or maybe just not wanting to be found. This is my home.

Adventures in Teaching

I wrote a long entry but left it at home, so I will post more later! For now enjoy some pictures!

Crossing the river by my house.

The kids working on my farm.

Rebecca(whom everyone calls my baby) and Eunice from nursery class.

Nursery and some of class one!

Rebecca and I.

That is the Chruch and Mount Kenya in the background.





Sunset outside my door.

Ashes To Ashes, Dust to Dust.

"In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread, till thou return unto the ground; for out of it wast thou taken: for dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return."
Genesis 3:19

Standing in the Embu mortuary, surrounded by teachers from my school my stomach fell to my feet.

We were all there for a former student; James who attended the school for 10 years and later went on to vocational school near by. Both of his parents had died when he was young and he was working in Embu as a mason to support his younger brothers. I only met him once, at the Deaf church in town, but I remember being moved by his kindness. He was struck by a van in town—despite the many speed bumps they move a dizzying pace. He was only 20-years-old. Although the remaining members of the family loved him, no one could afford to bury him.

At school my friend and fellow teacher Michael, instantly knew what he had to do. “ He is our boy” he would say again and again as he left the school to make arrangements. He worked at day and night visiting the police, insurance office, hospitals, and carpenters to “make it right” he said. All of this was done with out a second thought, or even a complaint. He hired a Deaf preacher from Nairobi to lead the service, paid for Deaf community members to travel, all in the hope to try to share James’ culture with his small village. He encouraged the teachers to chip in and pay for James’ coffin, and attended the funeral ourselves. This is a family.

At the mortuary, I shifted nervously back and forth, unsure of where to stand, what to do. We all viewed the body and I watched the preacher sign the sermon. I felt instantly calm, “ he is our boy” I said in my head, because it is the truth. The students at our school are ours, in most cases all they have for guidance, or role models. Even though James wasn’t my student in a way he was.

We all piled in the car and headed to Ishiria the home of James. We were driving into a place so unfamiliar to our lush farming town, despite only being 40 minutes away. The area was hot and dry, trees were jagged and fought one another other for life. The preacher joked that we took the wrong road and were in Mombassa. There was curious sad beauty to the landscape; deep red soil, patches of cactus, and babaou trees all placed against gently sloping hills—green. The sun was unforgiving, and challenged all those there to exist.

We finally arrived to James’ home. Many villagers watched as we entered, Michael told me that this was probably the first time seeing a mzungu (foreigner). The Deaf preacher gave his sermon and because most did not know English 2 interpreters were needed to change the sermon from KSL, to English, to Kimberre. Many people hide their Deaf children, ashamed of their Deafness and often times thinking witch craft is involved, many Deaf children are kept hidden their whole lives. Michael gave his eulogy in Kimberre and sign language and expressed the importance in accepting the Deaf, he made a point to introduce all the Deaf people and expound upon their successes.

After a quick introduction of village elders, remaining family members, and church leaders it was time to lay James to rest. Outside of his home, the red dirt, thorny plants sprawled over the land, as a sadness hung—which was all too familiar to this family. The sun was setting and changed the sky to a light purple, as the light highlighted varying parts of the hills, revealing gentle slopes. Burial songs were sung by the eldest villagers, all women. Their colorful head wraps swayed back in forth as red dirt was flew all around at rapid pace. When the burial was finished, three plants were planted on top of his gave and a cross-placed at the top. The sun had now moved beyond his grave illuminating the cross and the arresting land.

We said goodbye to our boy.

On the farm

“Don't judge each day by the harvest you reap, but by the seeds you plant.”
Robert Louis Stevenson

I have returned to life in my farming community. When I first arrived I nearly let the matatu driver keep driving because I did not recognize it! Gone are the fields of yellow, a product of rains that just refused to come; now green, lush farms cling to the hills. There is an ambiance of hope shared amongst people, and true appreciation of the rains that usher in new possibility. Everything is alive.

With this new sense of life, I have decided to give my shamba (farm) another shot. Last term I planted late and did little more then stick some seedlings in the ground, and to my dismay the many chicken that reside at my school promptly ate them. This time I have sought advise from my lovely neighbor who suggested some plants that (supposedly) chickens don’t eat. I am certain I provided entertainment for the school when I asked for a hoe and began working. The crowds gathered to watch the mzungu farm—luckily the students finished class and they all wanted to help me. They all took turns plowing the soil, dirt flew all over us all and as we picked through the weeds--tilling, ripping and scratching the earth soft. We finally unearthed a soft and quaint shamba! I never really pictured myself the farm type, but with dirt everywhere and a piece of straw hanging from my mouth, it certainly fit the bill. I have to say there is merit to a hard day of physical work, a pride that no one can diminish.

Well I guess I was on what you could call “farming high” because I decided to continue my manual labor. My area is known for snakes, so much so that the Sign for Embu is basically mimicking a snake biting your hand. The grass has grown to at least 4 feet—I am almost unable to see the school! This provides perfect cover for my snake friends. Luckily medical has provided me with a venom sucker that will basically suck the venom from the wound if I am bitten, but like that saying, “ an ounce of prevention is worth a pound in treatment” I decided to take away their cover (at least close to my house). Cutting the grass has a taken on a whole new meaning, as I literally had to cut each blade with a machete. Gone are the days when I have to hear “ back in the day I used a push mower, now that was work” standing bent over thrashing at grass for hours—that is work! My watchman friend helped me after awhile and we got a good portion my “yard” to a reasonable size—lets just hope the snakes get the hint. After detoxing from my farming high came the pain! My hands swollen with blisters, my back rigid, arms shaking uncontrollably, still I was triumphant.


On a completely different note:
I would also like to offer my sincere and deep appreciation to my family and friends Francine and Carly for sending me packages. Already the materials I've received have helped tremendously in teaching, and the students are so appreciative and excited to have colorful and different teaching aides. More then just the items to know the thought and time placed in sending them makes me realize how fortunate I am to have people who love and care about me; which really makes a difference out here. With that said another thanks to everyone who has written; I am one very lucky, ridiculously happy Volunteer.

The Coast and such

Scuba Diving close to Kilifi
Thanks to Matt's underwater camera!

One Love Island Sunrise

Mombasa

Fort Jesus by night

Indian Ocean and Fort Jesus

Walk to the Elephant Orphanage, Nairobi

Orphan Elephant

Fast as you can

"Always remember that the future comes one day at a time. "
Dean Achenson

My school is out for the month of April, and I have to say I miss my children dearly! I did travel with a few of them for the Deaf Games in Machakos-- where I am proud to say both my girls and boys won..... the power walking competition. We never practiced this and I thought it was a joke when I first heard of the race, but its actually difficult to not just run!Either way I was very proud of my students and I know just the experience of being outside our school was great for them! On the way there we passed an airport and they all questioned me again about the hippo status and if I knew the people on the planes.

After the games I had a few old friends join me at my site you can check out http://superkeen.com/peacecorpsweblog/?p=317 his thoughts on my site. Then I was off for more training in Nairobi.Being in Nairobi-- is something you must truly experience and is hard to explain. I feel as if I spend a lot of time in the states dispelling rumors about Africa, but Nairobi has them all. For example driving down one road where I was in a cab surrounded by BMWs and fast food restaurants, I saw a family of baboons jumping over a fence, and then literally minutes later Kibera ( the largest slum in the world). Africa and it juxtapositions...I could go on for days.


Training is an interesting experience, a mixture of Peace Corps policy, medical training, and sector specific training. I have to say what I am most excited about is starting my behavior change communication work. I was told I was selected mostly on the basis of making Deaf friendly materials to stop the prevention of HIV/AIDS. This involves making movies or posters to distribute through out Kenya hospitals and testing centers. With my past experience in the broadcast field, I am very excited to start working. While I was at the Peace Corps office I picked up a few posters with a few signs, the alphabet, and numbers. These were created by former volunteers. I took a lot because I want to make sure places in my town have them for example the hospital, the police station and the HIV/AIDS testing center ( VCT). I was able to talk to a hostel owner in Nairobi who I normally stay with when she told me she just hired a Deaf man, the brother of an employee. I offered her a poster and she showed all the workers. She later expressed to me how happy the brother was to actually communicate with his brother for the first time in 20 years. Moments like that give me the chills! I am beyond excited to start working on my own ideas.

Right now I am enjoying a much needed vacation. I am in Mombasa a sand swept island city- where I spent my first week in Kenya! Coming back nearly six months later really makes everything surreal. Six months ago, everything felt so far, now everything feels my own. Although more familiar I can still gawk at the beauty this country has, and feel so small within its ancient landscape, or humbled by small acts of kindness. The changes do not stop at the way I feel about the country but also myself. I hope to always be able to feel so large and small all at the same time.