A Hard Day's Night...

So, I was going to write all about my stay in Kisii, but it was actually not very exciting and the past few days have allowed me to become much more introspective and I hope, more interesting for you to read about.

In short, here is a synopsis of Kisii. Hopefully the pictures will suffice :)

Last Monday morning, my host father and I went to the city center so I could get a matatu to Kisii. I am a really big fan of my host father and wish he was around more often. He sat with me and even bought me a Fanta while we waited. Kisii is located in Nyanza province in the western area of the country. At first, I was pretty nervous about traveling to an unfamiliar place alone; however, after ten minutes into the journey, I became really happy and almost giddy-like. To reach Kisii, we passed through the Rift Valley, which was a really breathtaking experience. Since Nairobi is situated on the top of a mountain, to enter the Rift Valley, one must descend. At the crescent, I felt as if I were looking down on Illinois from above. Traveling through the Rift Valley is an experience within itself because the road is so poorly maintained. On the way there, I did not know if my organs would make it through the four hours of continuous jolting I was subjecting it to in the backseat of the matatu. The ride often resembled a really old, rickety rollercoaster. When I returned from Kisii three days later, I sat in the very front of the matatu and felt like I was in Mario-Kart: Real Life. I think it was one of the most terrifying experiences I’ve ever been through. However, I made it through the Rift Valley twice with little trouble.

Kisii is the most green and beautiful place I’ve ever been to (I know, this is a reccouring theme). The hills are rolling and covered with farms. My family lives on a hilltop farm and owns over one hundred acres of land. At first, I was really taken aback by the enormous wealth of my rural family. Their house is cement, has five bedrooms, indoor plumbing, electricity, two kitchens and a live-in house-help. Naturally, this wealth caught me off guard at first because I was expecting the rural area to be much more desolate. The experience actually turned out to be really good, though, because I am going to look at the rural rich and the remittance economy now for my ISP and I am pretty excited!

Now, on to the past week…

We visited numerous organizations throughout Nairobi. Below, I have included descriptions of each as well as thoughts and emotions that I had afterwards. I am sorry that my entries are kindof basic and not as timely as they could be, but it takes me a pretty long time to process everything that is happening.

Women Fighting AIDS in Kenya (WOFAK):

WOFAK is an NGO that began as a support group for women affected by HIV. Now, it provides numerous services to both men and women, including counseling, an orphan feeding program, home visit care, outreach, and advocacy. We visited one of the three Nairobi extensions and a small group of us went to a school to participate in an outreach session. At the school, we spoke to a group of teachers abut WOFAK and HIV/AIDS. Outreach in Kenya is very different than the idea of outreach in the United States in that the outreach here is much more subtle and does not solicit anything from those being presented to. The outreach coordinator narrated her life and how she found out she was HIV positive. Then she spoke about the positive role WOFAK played in providing her with a positive outlook on life. Not once in the presentation did she mention anything about why she was presenting to these teachers, what role they might have in WOFAK or vice versa, or the different services WOFAK offers. In the eyes of an American, this would have been a failed outreach attempt that accomplished little because no facts about the organization were learned. However, I realized that this is the outreach style in Kenya, and I am sure the teachers we presented to gained something. Personally, I feel as if they could have gained more if a more direct and efficient presentation was made. It dawned on me throughout the program that things are so slow to move here, particularly in the form of activism, because the culture is so non-confrontational. They are a lot more subtle in getting their point across, but it honestly did not seem very effective in trying to prevent HIV/AIDS. Though these are my personal sentiments, I do not think a more direct approach would actually work here because it would be a totally foreign concept and they would probably not understand what was going on. In terms of this, I can understand more clearly how NGOs that come in excited, ready, and full of enthusiasm can fail because they do not take into account the slow-ness of the culture and people they are trying to communicate with.

Just as a side note: Something that often catches me off guard is the lack of separation of religion and state. Here, people thank God in public places and openly preach, and no one bats an eye. Throughout the session, the outreach coordinator spoke about how she was Born Again and took Jesus into her life as a best friend after her husband succumbed to AIDS. I just think it is interesting.

A second side note: At the school, they employ forty teachers for over two thousand students. That is a ratio of at least 50 students: 1 teacher. The headmaster spoke to us for a long time and wanted to know all about how the American school system worked. He was particularly interested in punishment. After attempting to explain social workers and behavior management, we realized that the schools here have little to no support systems and that the burden of everything pertaining to the students falls on the teachers. The caning of children still does not make complete sense to me, but time is something teachers here do not have, and therefore, they cannot sit down and try to figure out the root of each child’s problems: they just need the kids to pass the exams.

UNHABITAT

Kenya is host to the only UN duty station in all G77 countries, making it unique and extremely important (ooh la la). The Nairobi-based compound holds duty stations for over sixty-five organizations as well as world headquarters for UNEP and UNHABITAT (therefore it is gigantic). Before attending the session, I had absolutely no idea what UNHABITAT did. The lecturer was a former SIT: Kenya student and served as an Academic Director for the program before our current ADs. I was really impressed with his presentation and feel as if my critical view of the UN has been somewhat altered. The presenter was so knowledgeable and well spoken, not just in diplomatic jargon, but he also spoke to us philosophically about his views. He prefaced at one point that he cannot talk to politicians this way and how refreshing it is to talk with students. In some ways, I was saddened by that comment because a lot of what he had to say philosophically, in terms of ideas for change and poverty alleviation through urban planning and housing, were things I think politicians and policy makers need to hear the most. Despite this, I still think there is something about the UN that is so attractive and cool. I don’t necessarily think it is a power thing, but perhaps it is the business suits :) Since he was a former SIT student, he provided some of us with the hope that we too could speak so eloquently and be so knowledgeable about something some day.

Mathare Youth Sports Association (MYSA):

This is the absolute most awesome organization I’ve ever seen in my entire life! Everyone should check it out at www.mysakenya.org . Basically, this NGO uses soccer as a way to empower and lift kids who live in the Mathare slum. Over 17,000 kids participate in the program and it has been nominated for a Nobel peace prize twice. As part of the program, kids have to participate in clean-ups and community service within the slum and they also have acrobatics, drama, and dancing. As we learned about the programs, I was frantically writing down everything and brainstorming ways to implement a similar program in Rochester (or other poor cities). They also have a library for anyone in the community to use. None of the books in the library are related to school because they want to create a reading culture for the kids in the slum. Four hundred scholarships are given out to pay for school fees and kids get points for reading, participating in clean-ups, as well as playing soccer games. After the presentation, we walked through the slum. Over 800,000 people live in Mathare and at least half are infected with HIV. Public toilets cost money to use, so most people either go right in the passages or use “flying toilets”—where people go to the bathroom on a piece of paper or plastic bag and then throw it from their house. The stench is overwhelming, such that a few people in our group threw up. Rivers of sewage flowed through the places we walked and there were massive amounts of trash. Most of the homes were no bigger than a dorm room and housed anywhere from four to eight people. Children ran rampantly around us and screamed the only English they knew: how are you?

We participated in one of the clean-ups MYSA sponsored and it was a very weird experience. I definitely saw the value in having the kids attempt to clean up the areas where they live because it promotes citizenship and teaches them about taking care of their environment. At the same time, though, it was a public health disaster. Rakes and shovels were provided for a few children, but gloves were MIA. The trash they were attempting to clean up consisted mostly of plastic bags covered in fecal material. No concern for the health of the kids was given, and when we asked, we received the response that most of the kids have the parasites and/or worms already. The kids ran through the rivers of sewage with no shoes on, touched everything, then touched their eyes and mouths. In some ways, I feel like more could have been accomplished if they kids performed one task in one particular area instead of just running around with the wheel barrows. Or, since public bathrooms are such a scarcity, if they could use the kids to build more of them so people don’t have to pay to use them, it could be another way to improve the quality of living. In the two hours we worked, we made no visible difference in the community, and those in charge acknowledged that tomorrow, the trash would all be back.

Before the clean-up, we watched a performance of the drummers and dancers, as well as the acrobats, and it was incredible. The talent of the kids was like nothing I’ve ever seen before. The MYSA Staff that led us around were awesome people and we could definitely see the leadership skills and empowerment MYSA provided for them.

All in all, the past few days have been trying on my thoughts and emotions. At times, I think a bus full of white people entering such crazy places seems voyeuristic, and I think for some people on my trip it is. Yet, if your mind is in the right place and you internalize what you see and really learn something from it, then maybe it is the best thing one can do. People are everywhere and most are trying to improve their lives. On Friday, I am traveling to Tanzania for ten days, so I may have limited internet access. I hope you are all doing well and thanks for reading!

Thoughts and Stuff:

- Last night I made a summer barbeque for my family, complete with cheese burgers, potato salad, sweet corn, jello, and coke floats. My siblings were hilarious because they had never had pickles, jello, or mayonnaise. They ate the mayo right out of the jar and thought it was the best thing ever. After dinner, I caught my siblings in the fridge touching the jello, in disbelief that it could jiggle.

- In Maasai land, everyone used cell phones. Naturally, I was baffled at how people could charge their phones because there was no electricity. I found out that many houses are equipped with solar power for the sole reason of cell phone charging. How cool is that? Even the Maasai use solar power. :)

- We went to the first home soccer game for the Kenya Harambee Stars since the FIFA ban was lifted. It was fantastic and so exciting. Tickets cost 100/-- (about $1.50) and the fans were insane. I think it is neat that the big team here is a national team. In the US, we have allegiances to city teams. It must be really good for nationalism to have everyone in the entire country rooting for the same team.

- During the visit to MYSA, I realized how high my expectations for government are and how low most people’s are here. There are practically zero public services, such as waste disposal, water, child services, welfare, social security, or the like. Despite some American’s dislike of many social programs in the US, there is an expectation that the government has a duty to its people or the people will reject the government (or perhaps that is just the Kennedy phenomenon). Here, people expect corruption and it shows. Sure, America has corruption, but the access to information is so great that it makes people greatly transparent. I was thinking about the services provided and how although we have a lot, we have also had much more time to get our act together. Kenya has been independent for less than fifty years, and there has yet to be one generation of fully educated people. So, although things are bad they have awesome potential to improve. At one point, the government attempted social programs such as FDR’s CCC to stimulate the job market, but the programs failed. Changes need to happen from the inside and critical thinking cannot happen until the majority of the population is literate and educated. I apologize for this little rant. It is just something I’ve been thinking about.

- There is no plastic recycling program in Kenya. I feel like if people could make money by collecting and recycling plastic bags, the amount of trash in the streets would halve, at least.

- On my ride home from Kisii, we went through eleven police check-points. Eleven. Also, as I mentioned before, the roads to and from Kisii are extremely bumpy. Yet, those that built the roads felt it necessary to place speed bumps all over as well. The small towns we passed in the Rift Valley reminded me of what I imagine the Old West to look like—general stores, one strip of stores, people selling things on the road.

- Signs I’ve seen around Nairobi: “Welcome to Nairobi, Home of the Hotdog,” “Ford: 100 years in Kenya,” and “Sprite: It’s not because of your personality.”

- Traffic circles are the road type of choice and they are a death sentence.

- Songs I heard on the matatu ride: faith hill- from this moment; Beyonce- to the left; celine dion- it’s all coming back to me

On the road again...

Everywhere I go and every place I see, I continue to be amazed by the diverse landscapes and vast amounts of people in Kenya. This weekend, I spent three days in Maasai land and then three days doing preparation work for my ISP in rural Kisii. Through both of these experiences, it dawned on me how much of the country I will not get to see and also how crazy it is that Kenya, which is slightly smaller than Texas, can have such disparate environments while you can travel across the majority of the Midwest and not get much of a change of scenery. This entry will be about my experiences with the Maasai and I will write about Kisii later on this week.

This past weekend, a group of friends and I hailed a matatu and stayed with a Maasai family in Ngong Hills, about two hours outside of Nairobi . The Maasai are pastoralists that wander across Kenya and Tanzania grazing their cattle. They are the most famous Kenyan tribe in popular culture, and are known for their beadwork, extended earlobes, bright red colors, and for drinking the blood of their cows. Our matatu (a small fourteen-passenger minibus) dropped us up in Ngong Town, which was bustling with people. We met Simon, our host and he took us to the pickup truck that would take us on the rest of our journey. This pickup truck had a six foot bed and we managed to fit five mzungus (white people) and thirteen Maasais, plus all of the things we brought and bought in town, into the back. Although the ride was a bit uncomfortable, it was the most exhilarating mode of travel I have used in Kenya thus far. Basically, we traveled down the side of a mountain into a gorgeous valley in the back of a pickup truck.

The compound we stayed in consisted of a husband, wife, their two children ages one and three, the husband's mother, as well as two of the husband's youngest sisters, ages eight and thirteen. Although we arrived fairly late on Friday night, two of the husband's brothers come over and talked with us for a long time about politics and America and our thoughts on their policies. All of the adults, with the exception of the grandmother spoke extremely good English, eliminating the language barrier that often deters more in depth conversations. In some ways, being in Kenya is really refreshing because even in the middle of Maasai land, where one's nearest neighbors are two kilometers away and there is no electricity, people are informed about the world and are invested in learning more and discussing issues. I guess I always learned about the ignorance and uninformed nature of many Americans, but it still makes me sad when I think about how available information is in the US and how few people take advantage of it or believe it is important to be informed.

The next day, we woke around seven and the sun was just peeking over the mountain. Fog covered the peak and it looked magical. Since the Maasai rely mostly on cows, they drink a lot of milk. The first thing we did in the morning was attempt to milk cows. It is a lot more difficult than one would think. We went into the kitchen and helped make tea (cup number one). Then, we were summoned to the grandmother's house and served a second cup of chai. When we finished, we went back to the main house and received a third class of chai. After we were sufficiently hydrated, we walked near a neighboring compound. On our way, we saw wild giraffes. Yes, giraffes just waking around, eating, and staring back at us. We went really close to them and it was spectacular. Afterwards, we went back to the compound, drank more chai (cup four), and walked to a pre-wedding ceremony. Nothing exciting occurred at the ceremony besides fifth cup of chai and a synthesizer that played the same three chord progression for an hour, so we left early. On our way back, we walked to a rock cliff overlooking a man-made lake. The lake was made by the Swedish government and instigated by an American man who loved the scenery. He also created placards around the lake that explain the history of the Maasai. We sat on the top of the ledge for more than a half an hour, just thinking and looking—it was so peaceful. Afterwards, we walked home and sat underneath a tree and read. I think I needed to get out of the city and sit and read and relax. The smaller children sat with us and drew all over my hands. When we went back inside the compound, we were given more chai (cup six) and helped with dinner. After dinner, we retired early because we were really tired. (note: the chai was made with fresh, whole cow's milk, so it was like drinking liquid whipped cream!)

The next morning we sat with the grandmother and she showed us how to do beadwork. Then, she showed us all the things she made and we bought some stuff. Afterwards, we went to church, and it was one of the best experiences I've had so far in Kenya (I feel like I say that a lot). A minister was being ordained, so it was a huge celebration. Although the service was over five hours, I was not bored at any second. Groups danced for much of the service and it was fantastic. The same man played the synthesizer, but the dancing by far made up for the repetitious chords. Unlike the dance I'd seen in East Africa so far, this dancing was energized and the people actually moved around. Many of the patterns were really similar to the movements I learned in my West African dance classes, particularly ones from the war dance, making we wonder how authentic the movements were. But, honestly, I didn't care that much, I was so excited! After church, we ate and caught a ride back to Ngong Town with the god fearing folk who came for the ordainment. Overall, my weekend was relaxing, fun, and enlightening. I am excited that I will be furthering my understanding of the Maasai culture in two weeks when I visit Tanzania.

Bits and pieces…

-Cows bring flies and flies are gross. I saw more flies this weekend than I've ever seen in my life. At any given time, we each had over fifty flies covering our bodies, with more lining the tables. Kids walked around with flies as permanent fixtures around their lips and eyes.

-The Maasai are long and slender people. They also have perfectly shaped heads. Traditionally, they extended their earlobes as a symbol of beauty. However, with the onset of schooling, this practice ceased. Therefore, one can easily tell which people went to school and which did not by their ear sizes.

-In the family we stayed with, the husband was one of sixteen children and the wife was one of twenty-two. Grapple with that.

Thoughts on Nairobi...

Returning to Nairobi has been both encouraging and unsatisfying. I am having a hard time reconciling my role as a student, resident, and foreigner in Nairobi. On a normal day, I spend about eight hours in class. Although the Swahili classes and lectures are usually intriguing and fairly pertinent for understanding the issues in Kenya, I become acutely aware of how I am sitting in a furnished room listening to a man in a suit lecture about the poverty, instead of actually being involved in the issues and experiencing them first hand. I guess I just feel like I am not doing anything. Kibera is one of the world’s largest slums, with over one million people and one-third of Nairobi’s population residing in it and it is literally in my backyard. Instead of venturing into Kibera and seeing the squalor first-hand, however, every morning I head in the opposite direction towards Elite Court, where my classes are held. We learn that 57% of Kenyans live under the international poverty line, which is $1/day, but I have yet to see most of this. I guess I just wonder how much I am still being shielded from despite the fact that I am living and studying in Nairobi. Our classes end this week, so hopefully I will be able to have more tangible experiences during the ISP period.

One of the aspects of my program is a month-long Independent Study Project (ISP) on a topic of my choice. There are so many topics that I find interesting, it is hard to narrow it down to one area. Between my two home stay experiences, I have noticed a lot of morphed cultural similarities in both the rural and urban area. (Does that make any sense?) For example, I noticed that my siblings in Bodo came and went as they wished into the house. Even my one-year-old sister had a freedom to roam unlike anything I would feel comfortable giving a one-year-old in the United States. In Nairobi, I noticed a similar freedom in my siblings (ages 13, 11, and 9), with my mother leaving them home unsupervised for stretches of up to twelve hours at a time. For my ISP, I think I am going to look at how different aspects of culture change when groups move from the rural to urban areas. I am planning on living with my family in Nairobi and also their family in rural Kisii (Nyanza Province) to compare the child-rearing practices of both areas. Hopefully, my Nairobi siblings will visit the rural area and I will be able to see how their behavior changes in the different environments. My idea is not entirely thought out yet, but those are my thoughts at this time. Other people on my program have really interesting topics as well. Some include the viability of micro financing in Kenya, why a Luo cannot become President in Kenya (and what implications this has for Obama, whose father was a Luo), informal pharmacies and how they contribute to drug resistance, and conflict resolution education in refugee camps. After writing these, my topic seems a bit dull :).

I am excited that I will be remaining with my Nairobi family for a portion of the ISP because I really like them. Last night, my mom brought down this huge radio from her bedroom and turned on the Kisii station. We definitely had a full-out dance party in the living room before dinner. My sister could not contain her laughter at the sight of us dancing and giggled for at least twenty minutes afterwards. My siblings began to mock Kisii dances and my mom mentioned that Kisii people dance so badly that I won’t believe it when I see it. I began to wonder whose standards my mom was using to evaluate the “badness” of traditional Kisii dancing: an urban or more “western” perspective or one of a Kisii woman. I suppose it is the perspective of both, but I never expected a traditional dance to be described as “bad” dancing.

On my walk to school everyday, I pass a plethora of street vendors that sell every type of product you can think of. They display their merchandise on short wooden platforms and line the streets. These vendors are part of the informal sector of the economy, but are found everywhere and constitute a huge part of the culture. While I was running the other morning, huge government men with huge axes were tearing down the wooden stalls. Later that morning, as I walked to school, the area was decimated. Seeing the destruction of some people’s only source of livelihood was one of the saddest things I’ve ever witnessed. These people literally had no other choice but to rebuild their stands. Over the next few days, the stalls were slowly rebuilt. Then, this morning, everything was in shambles again. I understand that the government wishes to close down the informal sector, but the people who work at these stands are given no other options—they are just told they cannot work in this specific place any more. It just seems like an unjust system with no rationalization by the government.

One girl on my program’s host mother is friends with a woman who lives in Kibera. She is HIV positive and was a school teacher but was let go when she came out that she had the virus. She was married to an abusive husband who has since died of HIV and now lives in the slum because she has no other option. Five of her children are also HIV positive but she took ARVs when she was pregnant with the youngest and that daughter is negative. This woman, along with six other HIV positive mothers who live in Kibera, began a woman’s support group and make jewelry to support themselves and their children. I posted a picture of one of the necklaces they make, and if anyone would like to buy anything to support these women, I can get them for you and bring them back. Necklaces sell for 300ksh ($5) and earrings for 200ksh ($3.50). The stuff is really beautiful and they can make any colors and designs you want. Pendants can be smaller and different shapes as well. Please don’t feel obligated to buy anything. I just wanted to put it out there in case anyone was interested.

Now that I have totally depressed you, I have some happy stories, too. Every day when I walk home from school I get really excited and happy that I am having this experience. I remind myself that when things become normalized and “everyday”, I will stop looking for the new things. I notice new things every day and hope I can retain that excitement and energy throughout my whole stay. I always think (in a slightly Hallmark way): “I am in Kenya….how crazy is that?...soak up everything and don’t let it become mundane.” I have made some great friends so far and laugh at least ten times a day. The weather is perfect in every way: sunny, slight breeze, low 80s during the day and mid 50s at night

Randomness:

- It must be mating-time for the animals around my house because there are so many little chicks and puppies running through the streets. It makes me happy!

- Margaret Mead once said that she wished she had a 360 degree video, audio recorder because there was no way she could capture everything she wanted to in words or in her brain alone. I tend to agree.

- One of the guys on my program is a Truman Scholar finalist and had to fly home to the United States this weekend for a twenty-minute interview. Although I am amazed, I think going to the US and then returning to Kenya after two days would really mess with my head. I don’t know if I would be able to process everything that was going on.

- I don’t flinch when chickens and goats walk down my street and into my driveway.

- The games the kids play here are way more fun than the games we play as children. One game is similar to “London Bridge is falling down.” When the two people on the sides capture someone that person has a choice of foods. Then, they go and stand behind the person who represents that food. When the last person is picked, there are two long lines of people and they play tug-of-war. It’s pretty awesome :)

Mombassa

Now, I’ll tell you a bit about Mombassa. I apologize for the writing quality of these entries, but my language skills are steadily decreasing as the time goes on. Mombassa is an absolutely stunning city located on the coast of Kenya. Basically, it is a huge island with old architecture and a huge Arab influence. Immediately upon entering the city, you can tell it is old and has a lot more history than Nairobi. We stayed in hostels near the SIT Office, which is located in the Old Town area. It was pretty touristy, but gorgeous and beautiful, overlooking the water and Fort Jesus (built by the Portuguese).

We were given a lot of free time to explore while in Mombassa, which was nice, because they have pretty cool shopping areas. There was one street that had little tiny shops and tailors on the street and we spent a lot of time there (think something along the lines of China Town or Devon Ave. with more stores, a narrower unpaved street, and fifty times more people). I realized that I have a fabric problem because I wanted to buy everything. However, I restrained myself and never bought anything that I couldn’t haggle down to less than 250 shillings (about $4). A nice thing about Mombassa was that we could walk around at night, something we are highly discouraged from doing in Nairobi. On Wednesday night, a group of us went to Salambo Discotheque and danced all night long. At first, they only played American techno music, but then we requested Kenyan music and it got much better.

While in Mombassa, we visited many places and attended many interesting lectures. One place we went to was KEMRI, the Kenyan Medical Research Institute. When we entered the compound, I instantly felt transported to the United States. The landscaping was beautiful, they had air conditioning, and the conference room we went into had furniture that looked like it came from Target. The labs even smelled like the USA. KEMRI was formed through an act of Parliament however most of their funding comes from foreign investors. In the facility we visited, they mostly conducted clinical studies involving Malaria, HIV, and respiratory tract infections and were attached to the local hospital. We toured both the KEMRI labs and the pediatric wing of the hospital and the difference between the facilities were painstakingly obvious. The KEMRI labs had air conditioning, state-of-the-art machines, clean water, florescent lighting, and an endless supply of gloves. It was nicer than some of the labs I’ve seen at Strong Hospital. Literally, it was the most “modern” place I’ve seen in Kenya so far. The hospital, located no less than one hundred yards away, had no windows in some of the areas and would not have passed any health codes in the United States. In the pediatric wing, the rooms had ten to fifteen beds each with virtually no separation between patients. Mothers were everywhere—eating, washing clothing in buckets, and just holding their children. I did not see one heart rate monitor or drip feed in the entire unit. One of the wings was designated specifically for malnourished children, and the doctors brought us up to different patients and pointed out the distended stomachs and listed off their various ailments (HIPPA is obviously nonexistent). All of the beds contained clipboards, but not one of them had anything written on them. Then, they took us to the intensive care unit, where patients for KEMRI received care. This unit was much more up to date with IVs, bedding, and heart-rate monitors, but still not up to any standards we would recognize. There were nine beds in the ICU and they had fourteen patients when we visited--newborns being placed two to a bed. I had a hard time grappling with the difference between the KEMRI lab facilities and the hospital. My first thoughts were, “Why aren’t the patients in the gorgeous, clean facility and the researchers in the non-air conditioned (I know, I’m stuck on the air conditioning, but it was HOT), mediocre facility?” Then, I began to think about it and the donor’s priorities are research, not the actual patients. I definitely see the benefits of research, because we need to find out more about diseases and it helps people immensely, and what KEMRI does is really cool (they let us look at live malaria under a microscope). The difference between the facilities was so large, though, that I had a hard time understanding how the people doing research could continue sitting in their sterile labs while people were dying because of unclean facilities only a few steps away (I guess, I understand, but it makes me sad…) I guess the allocation of resources seemed a little skewed to me. Also, compared to Kenyatta Hospital in Nairobi (where I did the dropoff), the hospital near KEMRI was at least fifty times nicer. I cannot even imagine what the hospital would be like if the research facility was not there. In all, it was a cool experience but one that I am still a bit frustrated with.

I will write more about some of the other interesting lectures we had at a later time, so I don’t bore you with all my thoughts at one time!

Other things from Bodo:

-The sky was incredibly clear and you could see the Milky Way every night. I have never seen so many stars in my life and wished Malaria wasn’t so prevalent so I could sleep outside every night.

-One day, my one one-year old sister took out a white baby doll to play with. At first, I was surprised that a white plastic doll would find its way to a rural Kenyan village. When I went to get gifts for my family, I looked for an African doll both on the street and at Nakumatt (the Walmart of Kenya) and could not find one. How crazy is it that in Africa, finding a doll that resembles the majority of the population is virtually impossible?

-On my first day, I was sitting on a mat outside and a monkey climbed out of a tree and walked into my house. My mom chased it out, but monkeys are like squirrels, found in many of the trees.

-In Bodo, there was no electricity or running water (which was wonderful!) but there was full cell phone reception and one small store that sold Fantas. I think it is interesting to see which parts of “Westernization” make their way into different communities and in what order.

Bodo, land of the sea...

For the past ten days, I have taken a most welcome journey to the coast of Kenya, away from the hustle and bustle of Nairobi. We took a twelve hour train to Mombassa and immediately traveled to Bodo, a rural community about two hours south of Mombassa. (note: it took the same amount of time to fly from New York to Dubai as it did to take the train from Nairobi to Mombassa.) My home in Bodo was wonderful and extremely different from urban life. To paint a picture, the town had no electricity or running water and the majority of the houses were made of mud and coral stones. The landscape consisted of coconut trees and sand, appearing somewhat like California and the weather was HOT (joto sana)! Basically, I sweated all day, throughout my sleep, and even while I poured cold water over myself as a makeshift shower. The town was Muslim, as most Swahili people on the coast are, and therefore, I was covered from head to toe in at least two to three layers of clothing every day (making the heat even more pronounced). Each morning, my mother draped kangas (traditional printed cloth) over the clothes I was already wearing. Although it was hot, I really enjoyed the clothing—the bright colors made everything seem happy and the conservative skirts tied at our waists was slightly refreshing and I secretly wish I could always wear clothes that way without being made fun of. My family spoke virtually no English, proving to be slightly frustrating but improved my Swahili skills immensely. My house was more state-of-the-art than others because our kitchen was inside of the house, as opposed to the usual four foot structure made of sticks found outside most homes. This also meant thick smoke filled our house most of the time as well. To be clear, by kitchen I mean three large stones on the floor with a burning wood fire between them, not a gas stove and cabinets filled with an endless supply of dishware. Jon, another person on the trip, wondered what his Bodo mother would say if she walked into his kitchen in Boston. This question is one I have been struggling with as well, not just in terms of the kitchen, but all of my “wealth” in general. My experience in Bodo allowed me to question my definitions of poverty. Upon first look, my family would have been classified as extremely impoverished—no clean water, no electricity, and a mere three beds for the seven children and two parents living within the house. Yet, they always had enough food and clothing and all of the children of age attended primary school. Although my mom worked extremely hard, basically taking all day to prepare meals and wash clothing, there was an abundance of smiles and laughter throughout my whole stay. I guess I have not processed this fully yet, but it is something that is on my mind.

The first day we were in Bodo I learned how to cook ugali and maharagwe. Ugali is made of corn flour and reminds me of solid grits. I observed a lot on the first day because I understood minimal amounts of the conversations and didn’t really know what was going on. The food in general was fantastic and I have a newfound appreciation for coconuts. Not only can they be used for food, they also provide soap, roofing, rope, plates, and over fifty other uses that I will refrain from mentioning here. They are basically a miracle plant. Most of the food, including the tea, involved the spices cardamom and cinnamon, making everything basically delicious. Most of the food is fried because there are no ovens, and sugar is a staple in almost everything as well. So, essentially all the food tasted incredible even though the health benefits were negligible if not negative.

I shared a room with my sister Mwanasha, which was weird because whenever I left the house, my mom padlocked my door and tied the key to my kanga. I felt slightly awkward that I shared a bed with only Mwanasha because that left the other seven people to share only two beds. However, I could not express this to my family because it took me ten minutes to explain to my mother what time I needed to be at school in the morning, leaving “I feel uncomfortable taking up a bed” out of my range of Kiswahili knowledge. Every morning, we attended Swahili lessons and then had most of the afternoons free. We went swimming on this beautiful beach near Funzi Island on the second day, which was fun. Despite intense sunscreen application, most people obtained pretty severe sunburns. A few of the afternoons, we played soccer and volleyball, which was really awesome. Against the primary school’s team, we lost embarrassingly, but when we played against the village team, we only lost by one. Another day we went to the Shimoni slave caves and then out snorkeling in the Indian Ocean. The caves were slightly eerie to see because you see firsthand the history we are always learning about. Although snorkeling felt a little bit touristy, it was still a cool experience, and how often can you say, “I’ve been snorkeling in the Indian Ocean”? Honestly. I used to wonder how people could still be discovering new species of things, but after seeing fish colors that I’ve never seen before, I can no longer ask such questions. One morning, we woke up at 4am to go to Funzi to see the sea turtles. Traveling through the water in the dark was breathtaking because there were tiny phosphorescent particles in the water that glowed when we moved. Once on Funzi, we hiked for a good forty minutes in the dark, through the forest, to the turtle sanctuaries. Unfortunately, none of the groups saw any turtles, however, the scenery was gorgeous. (I promise, pictures are on the way). The village hosted a huge bonfire on the beach two evenings before we left, meaning we got to sing and dance in a huge circle. We taught the kids a pretty unsuccessful version of the hokey-pokey, and some of the guys taught songs such as “Take me out to the ball game” and “We will rock you.” Afterwards, they brought out the drums and the women danced. It was pretty fun but not as exciting as I had imagined for my first “real” African dances. Mostly, we walked in a circle and went down to the ground every once in a while. On my last day in Bodo, my mother and aunt hennaed my feet and hands. My feet now have orange waves on them and my hands carry the words “Karibu Mollie” on the right and “I love my heart” on the left. I don’t really know what they meant by “I love my heart” but I went with it. During our Bodo stay, we had pre-assigned group research projects to work on as well. My group worked on the education system, so I spent many afternoons interviewing teachers and children, as well as going on tours of the primary and secondary schools. I was most impressed by the secondary school, in terms of programs and extracurricular activities. I will elaborate on this more later, so I don’t overwhelm you all with too much information at once.

Overall, my experiences in Bodo were humbling and reflective. I could definitely write five more pages about Bodo, so know that this is a very rough summary of what I did. Feel free to ask me any questions you have about anything that I write and thanks to all who have written. I enjoy hearing what everyone is up to. I miss you all and I hope you are having a happy March.