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 :)