Kenyan Conversation

Friday, May 28, 2010

I have been going over and over in my head to find a good way to explain the Kenyan manner of speaking, and I am struggling to pinpoint it exactly. The best I can say is that it is incredibly vague, and everything exists in superlative. For example, I came downstairs today and Mama Vicky handed me an avocado from her tree that she has been saving for me for days and told me that tomorrow I must eat is (again, MUST eat it). I said I was very excited, and she whips around and says, “You are excited? Avocados are your favorite?” I have learned by now that favorite is not an exclusive term, and can be applied to anything you like at all. If it is not your favorite, you will probably never see it again, so I just say that everything is my favorite. About 3 minutes later, Mama Vicky is setting the food on the table, which includes chapati, a fried bread/pancake that I hadn’t had yet. I hear her call from the dining room with an unusually nervous tone, “Alex, suppose that chapati isn’t your favorite???”, I laugh, and respond, “Mama Vicky, suppose it isn’t? Will you kick me out of the house?” She storms back into the kitchen and takes me strongly by the shoulder, “Alex, No! I will make you ugali instead. I know you love ugali!” End of conversation. She transitions swiftly into Kiswahili with Paul’s mother, who is staying with us because she has a swollen foot. For the record, I don’t LOVE ugali, I think it’s just fine, so I am compelled to say that I LOVE it. In Kenya, you either love something or you hate it. There is no middle ground.

Everything is also completely vague. When you ask how far away someplace is, it is either very very near, or very very far. And these things are compared to a sliding reference point for distance. Asking for more detail never helps., for example:

Me: “Is it very far like Kisumu, or very near like Naka?” (translation: is it an 8 hour drive, or a 15 minute drive away?).

Kenyan: “OK, OK, it is kind of far like Isiolo.”

Me: “Where is Isiolo?”

Kenyan: “OK, sawa, I will take you some fine weekend.”

Me: “I would like that.” (I have no idea where I just agreed to go.)

My student Antony and I usually bicker most of the day about little things in life. We get into a discussion about femininity and masculinity because I am a girl, and I randomly use a piece of pink scrap paper to sketch something and Antony turns it into a full-scale debate about gender roles based on pink being a girl’s color, and blue being a boy’s color. I say that I like pink, so Antony exclaims, “so you LOVE pink!” I say I don’t know if I would say I LOVE pink, but I like it Antony responds, “so you HATE pink!” I say I think pink is good, but I also like blue. Antony gets angry, “so you LOVE blue?!?!” I am now just annoyed by the total lack of use of descriptive words other than LOVE and HATE. I retort that I don’t think I have the capacity to truly LOVE or HATE a color anyway. Vienna and Amos burst out laughing and Antony changes the subject. I am not sure who won this debate, but I feel good about it.

My First Day with Milka

Friday, May 28, 2010

Today felt like my first real day in Kenya. It started as usual, leaving the house with Cliff at 6:15 and going to the gym. I met Milka, the Chair of the Nina Women’s Initiative at the Baobab office at 9. We took a matatu to her home, which is just about 20 minutes outside Nakuru in the small farming community where most of the Nina women live. We had to wait in the matatu in Nakuru for about 45 minutes to an hour for it to fill up with people going our direction, as the matatu will not depart until it is full. This gave Milka and I lots of time to get acquainted and go over some of the nuts and bolts of where Nina stands now, what resources are available and what the primary goals are. I also learned a lot about Milka. She is also 26 years old, and has two daughters, Vince, who is 6, and Vivian, who is 3. She is married and she and her husband have a small house on his mother’s property. Her husband works at a hotel in Nakuru and sounds like a good man, which is uncommon here.

I saw a matatu that had “DADDY JEFF” written in huge letters across the front windshield tint. I was kicking myself for not having a camera. (For those of you who might not know, my dad’s name is Jeff, so this is awesome to me.)

Along the way we passed all the military facilities for Nakuru, including the barracks, the academy, and the combat training facility. When we alighted at her stop, I saw the Kenya I imagined even when I was still back in the US.

Milka and I walked up a small road (more like a footpath) towards her home. As we walked along the lush green path, we passed cows, goats, sheet and many beautiful flowers and lots of crops. Milka seemed to know the answer to any question I could possibly have, and I felt very young and inexperienced next to her, now knowing that we are the same age, and she not only cares for her own family, but works incredibly hard to improve the lives of the women in her community.

We stopped at her daughters’ primary school, where my approach was alerted to all the students as soon as I was in eyesight with cries of “Muzungu! Muzungu!”. (Muzungu means white person) I was well received with tons of high-fives and “how are you?”s. I met Milkas daughters, who are adoreable, and then we went on our way.

We arrived at Milka’s family’s shamba (farm), which was stunning. Not only do they grow a ton of food, but she has the most beautiful assortment of decorative plants I have ever seen. Her house is cozy and colorful and the chickens walk around unimpeded. She also had a dog who I was warned not to touch. We then walked over to her mother-in-law’s house, which is only a few meters away. I didn’t go inside, but it was amazing to see the shamba. They grow spinach, kale, corn, blackjacks (I am not entirely sure what this is), banana trees and HUGE avocado trees. I told Milka that I would show her pictures of my trees and that she would laugh very hard. We picked an unidentifiable fruit and ate it from the tree. I also ate an ant by accident. We walked about 2km over to the Morokoshi School, which is another SpanAfrica partner, and is where the Nina Initative was born. For reasons I don’t totally understand, they have separated due to some sort of falling out. One of the teachers at Morokoshi is also a member of Nina, and upon meeting me, she immediately said, “I would like to cook for you!” I assumed that this meant at some later date, as it was about 11:30 am and we had just interrupted her class. Of course, I had forgotten about the tradition of Kenyan hospitality, and minutes later found myself being served tea and mazati in the director’s house.

We saw the old greenhouse, which was too small, and a new one that a neighbor has, that we would like to emulate. We saw the original shamba (known warmly as the “Grace project shamba”) and the shamba the group used last year, but lost due to the drought. I learned a lot about the history of Nina, and the enduring effort that Milka and the other woman have had to keep it going despite numerous setbacks.

On our way home, we stopped to meet other members of the Nina Initiative who was a recipient of some rabbits from Milka. The volunteer before me, Sarah, fundraised for a huge rabbit hutch, and 3 rabbits to start Milka’s brood. She has since been breeding the rabbits and gives them 3 at a time to each member of the Nina group. The women were very proud of them, and it was fascinating to see their homes and efforts at self-sufficiency. Milka told me that most of the woman had husbands who were drunkards and didn’t work or otherwise contribute to the family. All the responsibility for raising, feeding and supporting the family is theirs.

Walking through the country in the Rift Valley is probably the most peaceful thing in the world, and talking with Milka is strangely soothing, even when we are talking about difficult or odd subjects. Milka asked what church I belong to at home, and when I responded that I don’t attend church, she was shocked. “Well, at least you know that there is God”, she says succinctly, but with a cautious tone. I just smiled and nodded. In that moment and in that place, I suppose anything is possible. Later she asked me about autumn. She had heard that in America, there is a time in the year when the leaves turn purple. I told her all about the leaves in autumn, the naked trees in winter and blooms in spring. We discuss how this impacts the planting seasons, and I tell her that in Pennsylvania, we have a saying that corn is “knee high by the fourth of July”. She laughs that it’s different in Kenya. We are walking by two cornfields at two completely different points in the growing cycle, and it is certainly different. We talk a lot as we walk through the countryside. Our conversation flows smoothly, unlike the morning when the language barrier felt like constant speedbumps in our communication. Now we just feel like old friends, talking about the world and our places in it.

When we returned to Milka’s house, her father-in-law, sisters-in-law and many children were also home. The father-in-law was very warm, and spoke more English than the rest of the family (who spoke none at all… nor did most of the people who I met today). He kept insisting that I marry a Kenyan and never leave. As I sat on a small stool in Ruth’s kitchen (the mother-in-law), I thought that there could be worse things. The kitchen was dark and hot, with a stoked fire boiling away at the tea, somehow devoid of smoke. Melka led me back to her house while we waited for the tea to cook, and while we sat together on the couch, she showed me some of her other leather bags and necklaces, which were beautiful. We began looking at photos, which got Milka’s daughers and their twin cousins in a whirl around us. The girls soon began playing with my hair, which ended up in a lopsided set of plaits that hung in various sizes around my head. Milka and I laughed as Vivi changed into a party dress and told us that we all looked “very smart”. Milka and I sat talking as the girls went out to play. Even with the significant language barrier, I felt a great warmth from the whole family. The scenic setting and clarity of purpose made me want to curl up on Milka’s couch and never leave. Even the outhouse was charming in it’s own way.

On the way home, the matatu got a flat tire on Highway 104A towards Nakuru. We all got out, and it was fixed promptly. Still, as we stood in the grass in the median, a sharp looking man in an ill-fitting but well matched suit outfit wandered to a nearby tree to take a pee. Only one man abandoned ship and hailed another passing matatu. I realized that I don’t think I have ever seen a tire changed before… it doesn’t look as difficult as I would have imagined.

“I don’t mind if I make a lot of mistakes. It may be that in one of the blind alleys I may find something to my purpose.” – W.S. Maugham

May 27 Backpost

I am writing this at night with the intention of sending it in the morning, so I hope that my dates and times make sense. I keep building on the same post each time I don’t get a chance to post it, so it gets kind of confusing. I don’t really have any truly exciting news, but there are many nuances of life here that some of you have asked about, so this email will be mostly descriptive of the typical things that happen here. One thing I learned from my Paul (Kenyan Dad) tonight is that the porch next to my bedroom is supposedly “The porch where people go to find themselves”. I will be spending some of time out there, and will let you know if I find anything interesting.

Last night I had a tasty dinner of ugali with tilapia stew and steamed kale, and pineapple for dessert. Ugali is a starch that I believe is made of potatoes and cornmeal packed together into a cake. It is served as a circle on a platter and even cut like a cake. It is served with lots of different things like fish or meat stew, a vegetable concoction (usually kale, onions, tomatoes and a lot of spices). Ugali is a staple Kenyan food, comparable to fufu in Ghana, but not at all gooey. I would compare the texture to mashed potatoes that have been in the fridge a few days, but it falls apart more easily. No utensils are required for eating it or it’s accompaniments. The Kenyans ball it up together and kind of make a thumb-sized dish out of it and then eat whatever it is served with using that ugali-spoon. I am terrible at this, and tend to end up just dipping chunks or ugali in the stew like a gross mess. My houseparents, Mama Vicky and Paul (when he is here) sit in the two big chairs like the heads of household in the living room, and my Kenyan sister, Vicky, and I typically sit on the couch opposite them. The boys, Nick and Cliff, sometimes sit at the table in the dining room behind us, but rarely sit with us. Last night it was just me, Mama Vicky and Vicky. We talked about linguistics and weddings. The Gambas have a close family friend getting married in early August, and have invited me to come to the wedding in Nairobi with them. It should be an incredible experience.

I should back up to discuss one other thing I love about Mama Vicky. She loves anything novel, and is totally obsessed with Obama (she is related to his grandma). She regularly walks around the house wearing a woven Obama blanket as a shawl. She is also absolutely crazy about children’s plates that are sectioned for various food items. She has a plastic set of sectioned Lion King plates that she sees as very high-class. I am always served on a Lion King plate. It is perfect for ugali, as you can put the fish stew in one section, the ugali in another, and the vegetable in yet another and they will not all mix together.

So we all sit down with our plates and as Mama Vicky sits in her large chair in the very fancy living room she expertly eats the ugali easily without any mess. I look like a sloppy child compared to her – it would be appropriate for me to wear a bib and I am constantly licking drips off my hands and sometimes even my wrists, as napkins are never distributed. Mama Vicky has an ease about everything that she does. The tilapia is cooked whole with the heads and all the bones, so you have to eat it carefully. As Mama Vicky finishes each section, she casually throws the bones onto a small sidetable that she has pulled up to her chair. Only once she has finished her food does she put the bones back on her plate. I, of course, am totally neurotic in other peoples’ homes, and carefully section off a small part of my plate for bones and the skin, which I don’t like.

Mama Vicky laughed heartily as she served me the tail-ends of the fish saying that I am probably not ready to eat the heads. She was very impressed when I told her that I have eaten many a fish eyeball. She even tested my knowledge of the consistency and liked that I knew that they were hard and not good tasting. Vicky told me that when she was little, the kids were told that eating the eyeballs made you clever, so the kids would fight over them until they realized it was a trick. Mama Vicky responded that it was in fact not a trick, and as proof she stated that Obama’s family is from the rural area near Lake Victoria, so he is probably clever because he comes from generations of fish-eyeball eaters. She then calls to Agatha, the housegirl, that she would like some pineapple, indicating to Vicky and I that the argument is over, and that it is time for us to clear the plates.

I then proceeded to take my 2^nd successful bucket shower. As the Gambas were eager to move into this house, they didn’t exactly get around to installing proper plumbing. I am never certain that water will come out of any given tap. In the morning to wash my face I find myself having to run down and cut through Nick’s bedroom to use the downstairs sink, as the upstairs one rarely has water in the morning. Nick is 21 and on leave from college, so he is gracious to accept my early morning disturbances. Yesterday I went in to attempt my first bucket shower, which took place in Nick’s bathroom, which has a sort of shower, but no water attached. I found it helped to wash my hair in the cold water from the sink, and as I stood with my shampoo-filled hair in the bathroom, Vicky and Nick walked in, not knowing I was already there to fill up the hot water bucket… I guess it is safe to say we have become close quite quickly!

Mama Vicky is determined to teach me how to cook Kenyan food. She doesn’t measure anything, and everything always comes out perfectly. She isn’t really good at giving directions, and often tells me to “just do that”, and I have no idea what “that” is supposed to be. I just kind of do stuff, and if I mess up or do something weird she laughs really hard and just moves on somehow around it.

Gloria, Agatha’s 2-year-old daughter, is becoming less frightened of me finally. At first the sight of me alone caused her to burst into tears and hide, she now will look at me, and even wave and say a word or two. I have been bribing her with sweets, and even got her to take a lollipop from my far-extended hand yesterday. Vicky tried to pick her up and walk close to me, which caused shrieking tears, so we still have progress to make.

Nick took me over to meet the guard dogs on Monday. Their names are Rex and Chester, and they are big and very cute, and really not frightening. Mama Vicky still claims that they are huge and will eat me up. I am hoping to get Cliff to take me out one evening when he goes to feed them. I feel bad that they are locked up all day, but they don’t seem to mind. They roam free in the yard at night and howl at the moon along with other neighborhood dogs. I wish I could take a recording, as it is very cool sounding.

I am moving quickly through Amos’ objectives for Baobab, and we already have a budget started, as well as a game plan to meet with the counselors of local schools to help Baobab grow. I created a nice presentation that Amos really liked. I designed a system for the library on Monday, which we finished implementing, working with two of my favorite students, Antony and Vienna. The trick with Baobab, is that it has the potential to take off, but doesn’t have the capacity just yet. Strategic growth is going to be incredibly important, but capital here is hard to come by, so I am working on a sensible plan to grow slowly.

While at first I think Amos was hesitant to share me with the Nina Women’s Initiative, he is now becoming eager to get me out the door as we are already barreling through his checklist in week one. Milka, the head of Nina, came to Nakuru to talk about some objectives today. We only had a few minutes to talk, but we are meeting on Friday to go out to the rural area so that I can get a sense of what is going on and what needs to be done. I will be spending at least every Monday on-site at Nina, which is when the women meet to discuss their goals and make their bags. I put some pictures of them on facebook, if you got a chance to look. There are many styles, and they’re very cool. Meredith took a supply back to the states when she left last week.

I got up at 6am to take a matatu (van-like transport vehicle that is a story all it’s own) into town to go to the gym that I just joined. Grace recommended it, and Vicky and I stopped by yesterday and I signed up for a one-month membership. It was really expensive, but running has proved impossible because of unpredictable rain and the fact that while Mama Vicky hasn’t wanted to say it, she clearly isn’t happy about the idea. Cliff, who is 16, leaves for town at 6:15 to head to school, so I got up to go into town with him, as I am still getting used to the route. It is 20ksh to ride the matatu to town, although it is 30ksh to get back. There are about 75ksh to a dollar, so it’s pretty cheap.

Matatus are actually converted transport vans that have been outfitted with seats and windows, and matatu drivers regularly decorate them very elaborately. In Nairobi they are even more elaborate, with blacklights, racy music videos on flatscreen TVs, loudspeakers and stickers praising God stuck all over. In Nakuru they are a little tamer, and it is rare to see a TV in a matatu, but this morning we had the good fortune of taking a matatu with a TV. On it was playing a very catchy set of music videos by a Kenyan (I think) choir group called Amekeni Fukeni Choir (that is what I copied down, the spelling might be a little off). I would highly recommend googling them and seeing if you can find it on youtube. The choir is dressed in Kenyan clothing, and dances sort of awkwardly through the videos (I caught about 3 on our way to town). The best part is when the dancing singers are awkwardly pasted Tim & Eric style against really random planar backdrops of famous places, like Mount Rushmore and the Sydney Opera House. Meanwhile, the matatu is completely overfilled with people and children, some unable even to sit as the seats are already beyond maximum capacity with one person per seat being relatively unheard of. The driver is driving backwards and forwards up and down uneven dirt roads just laying on the horn trying to attract as many passengers as possible. Cliff looks at me and repeats the refrain to my time here so far, “Karibu! This is Kenya!”

A few personal notes:

Mrs. Cobb: Mama Vicky is totally obsessed with the pen you gave me. She is in the middle of exams for some accounting continuing education classes, and she said to me, “If I could take my exams with that pen, I would pass all no problem!” I offered to let her use it, but I think she thought it was too precious.

The Ghana Crew: I have been in touch regularly with the flight attendant Richard from our trip. He invited me to a soccer game (err, football game) tonight, but Nairobi is too far for a weekday overnight. He is flying this weekend, but will probably come visit in Nakuru next week.

Eric: No one here believes from photos that we are related. They all LOVE the picture from my last night in the US where I am sticking out my tongue at you and you are looking at me disapprovingly.

Hayley: I had to explain the difference between ice skating and skiing to a few of my students the other day. When I described skiing, they all thought it sounded like the craziest thing and couldn’t really imagine why anyone would do such a thing. I told them that you are a racer, and they were all astonished and impressed!

May 24 Backpost

We are having technical issues in the office this morning, so I have a few minutes to run to the cybercafe to write. My current phone number is now +254734161967 (thanks, Carley). There is a slight chance I can reconnect my old number (the service is much less expensive), but I need one of my new "brothers" to mess around with my phone to unlock it for me.

I just moved in to my permanent homestay yesterday. Paul is really smart and interesting, and Jeniffer, who is called "Mama Vicky" (she is Vicky's mama) is very warm and wants to do everything in Kenya with me. The family primarily speaks Kiswahili at home. I am starting to learn, but it has been a slow process so far. They are of the Luo tribe, so they mix the Lou language with Kiswahili and English so much it can be very confusing! Mama Vicky is teaching me already, and also teaching me how to cook Kenyan food. We started this morning by cooking pancakes - there is no bisquick or syrup here so they put marmalade on them. I haven't had the heart to tell them that I don't like pancakes. On a side note, when we were discussing syrup, Paul noted jokingly that he thinks Canadians are not creative because all they did to make their flag was copy a maple leaf - take that Radhika!! Haha! He has travelled all over the US and Canada doing economic research. He has lived in Maryland and even been to NJ. We get along very well. Tomorrow we will cook a fried bread thing that I can't remember how to say. I made it once with Ruth, but she made the dough and I just fried it on the outdoor range.

In the house now are Paul, Mama Vicky and their daughter Vicky, who is studying medicine (which is an undergrad program in Kenya) at Nairobi University. Vicky is 23 and primarily lives in their Nairobi house, but Nairobi University is on strike, so she is home for a bit. There are also two cousins living in the house: Cliff, who is 16 and Nick, who is 21. They are all fun, laugh a lot and are very welcoming. Nick and I had a very fun time of trying to hang the mosquito net over my bed last night, making a lot of noise and falling a lot while trying to hammer a nail above the curtains. I have my own room and a big double bed with a ballerina barbie comforter. It's really awesome. Everyone loves to laugh and joke around, and they are indeed "a jolly family", as Amos described them to me.

The house is really big and nice, but not finished. They have running water, but there is no shower, so we bathe in the place where a shower will eventually be with buckets. I haven't tried it yet, but it doesn't seem to difficult. I am mostly worried about how to wash my hair, as I have a different challenge there than the rest of the family. There are big gardens in the back and front yards. The back yard has a type of spinach, sugar cane, an orange tree and two avocado trees that totally put mine to shame. They have lots of avocados! There are also a few chickens who just run around and we have fresh eggs. Everyone is excited to eat the grown chickens in December. There are a few babies too. There are also two dogs who live outside. They are guard dogs, and I haven't seen them yet. Mama Vicky assured me that they are very big, and since they don't know me, the will eat me up! Cliff primarily manages caring for the dogs. I have only heard them barking outside.

Mama Vicky is also related to Obama's Grandma!! They come from the same place, where Mama Vicky and Paul still keep a rural home. When we go to the rural home later this summer, we will go to meet Obama's Grandma, who goes by "Mama Sara". I have seen pictures of their previous visits and the place looks beautiful and she looks like a funny woman.

Another funny thing is that apparently "Alex" is really only a man's name here, which everyone feels compelled to tell me anytime I introduce myself. It generates a lot of funny looks, and people are always trying to find other names to call me, such as Alexis. I sometimes just introduce myself as Alexandria (even Alexandra is misinterpreted) to avoid confusion. It's always interesting to me to see that people have such strong feelings about things that barely matter to me!

I am running off to work soon (we had an unexpected mid-morning break due to a computer error), but I will write again soon! Mama Vicky also told me today of a place in Nakuru where I may be able to get on a wireless connection with my laptop. I am not sure if it will be fast enough to upload photos, but I will definitely try! They use an aircard type thing to plug into their laptop for internet at home, but they are quite expensive, so I am trying to hold off for as long as I can.

Some of you have asked for my address. I believe incoming mail is somewhat reliable as long as there isn't anything valuable in it. I am not sure about outgoing mail. If you send things, photos would be a great inclusion!

Paul and Jeniffer Gamba
P.O Box 244- 20100
Nakuru.
Olive Inn Estate
Kenya

I hope all is well in the States. I love getting emails about what is going on, and I do read them although it saves a lot of time to respond as one email. I hope to have some pictures up soon!

May 22 backpost

I have so much to write... and very little time as the sun is setting
and I need to get home. I am sorry for not responding to messages
individually, but the internet is awful today. I am still staying with
Amos and Ruth, but I am going to my permanent homestay with Paul and
Jeniffer in the next few days.

I spent Thursday and Thursday night in Nairobi in the El Greco Hotel.
It was beautifully hilarious. There were cockroaches actually IN my
bed, so at least I had some friends to snuggle with! I sent Friday in
the slums outside Nakuru and then spent today in the rural area, which
isn't slums, but has no electricity and some of the most interesting
people I have ever met. As I walked with Felix, my new Kenyan friend,
kids run alongside yelling "munzugu", which means "white person". They
all want to wave and say "how are you?" over and over. I am not sure
that they know what it means, but it is very cute. I have a million
pictures and wish I had better internet to send some, but it is very
bad, especially today.

I have two new Kenyan friends, Felix and Hillary (both are men). They
are part of my upcoming business development class, and have protected
me from drunkards in the slums and are very fun. Here Alex is solely a
"gent's name" as I am told every single time I say my name. We joke
that I have a boy's name and Hillary has a girl's name, although he
assures me that with 2 "l"s it is a man's name. They are both really
active and we are planning a hike up to the biggest crater in Kenya
for sometime next week. Hillary is a big rugby player, and is
anxiously awaiting the start of the 7 season. He had a scholarship to
university in Texas until he was in a bad matatu (van/bus-thing)
accident and was seriously injured. Felix took Patrick and I up to the
rural area today and was a great guide. They seem to know a lot of
people around Nakuru.

I went to tea with Ruth's mother and Meredith on Wednesday, and she
was fascinating. She will take me to the Western Province in June to
collect her granddaughter from boarding school. She asked if Meredith
and I were twin sisters (we are both small and blonde, but don't
really look alike). When we said no, she responded simply, "you all
look the same to me", which was pretty funny.

I finally have a blog, but the internet wont' let me on it today, so I
will send out the info once I get it sorted out (the address is
http://blogs.spanafrica.org/alexandracmack/ but it's not set up yet).
I DO have a new cell phone, which can accept international calls. The number is (+254) 734161967. I have had a lot of fun texting with Sydney and Cynthia, which is
surprisingly inexpensive.

I miss you all tons, and will write again soon! Please let me know any
news from home. On a funny note, I did see in the Kenyan paper (which
normally only covers Kenya and maybe a bit on Africa) about a
Philadelphia woman who hid in a coffin to avoid prison. Way to make
the international news scene, Philly!

May 18 backpost

I finally visited Baobab Branch yesterday afternoon, which is a tiny room on the 3rd floor of an office building in Nakuru. It is about the size of... (trying to accommodate as many perspectives as possible)
1. Dad & Cynthia's bathroom
2. the 3rd floor office at Mom's
3. Greg and Mary's underground bathroom at their old apartment
Still, it is a great program, and I am working with Amos to help create a business development curriculum for university students. The education here is so focused on state testing, that there is little teaching of practical skills or business planning.

Today I also have my first meeting with a woman who is the elected head of the Nina Agricultural Initiative. We al had a long discussion about the various alternatives for Nina last night at dinner (Amos cooked rice and minced meat with peas and tomatoes and lots of spices). I still haven't even seen the bags, so I am not sure what I am dealing with.

Amos would also like me to travel a lot with Cameron when he arrives at the end of the month, doing work for SpanAfrica. That should take me all over Kenya and some of the surrounding countries (I am definitely fitting in a visit to Daphne in Ngorogoro!). I think it will be very interesting.

I don't have much more interesting news now. We didn't make it down to the lake last night because it poured and then I fell asleep before dinner. I am feeling much better today and my voice has almost fully returned! I will put a list of mundane stuff below for those who have asked.


Some mundane stuff:
Some of you might appreciate the fact that we use a small machete for chopping veggies for cooking. Last night I slept on the top bunk, with Patrick below and Meredith on another bed. We had a funny time trying to kill all the mosquitoes in the room before bed, and subsquently trying to clean off the ceiling of their guts. No bites yet! Amos has a nice shower with hot water. Most people here shower at least once a day, if not twice because it can get so dusty. Because of all the rain, it has been very muddy. It's about 10am and it's sunny, which means it probably won't rain until later.

The phone is having issues with the earpiece, which means I can barely hear people on the other end. However, text messages are working great, at least from within Kenya. If you have tried to text me, please let me know. Don't forget to include the country code. I am going to adopt Meredith's phone when she leaves, and I will send the new number when that happens.

Patrick left this morning for a solar conference in Nairobi, but may come back later this week. I may go with him out into the country to talk to people about his light. For those of you who know him, he is EXACTLY like John Curtin, with a beard. They look alike, they have the same voice, and have the same mannerisms. It's pretty funny.

I think I am going to stay with Amos for the rest of the week and then go to Paul and Jeniffer's. I am starting to learn my way around, am am much more comfortable walking around Nakuru already. I am hoping to get u p to Morokoshi this week, but am excited to meet the head of Nina today and start figuring out what to do. I want to do so much!!! Internet time is up - more another time.