Saturday, December 17, 2011

Movin Right Along...

Recently returned from two weeks of in-service training but more about that shortly.

First, let me tell you about celebrating Thanksgiving in Kenya.  Officially we aren't allowed days off for US holidays but most of our bosses know this one is a big deal for us and gave us the day off.  Samantha, Martin, Katie (other volunteers) and myself celebrated at my house.  Wish I had pics but they are on Katie's camera, oh well. Just will have to tell you about it.  No turkey in my neck of the woods so I had my boss bring me a frozen capon (castrated rooster--ouch) from Nakumatt that I defrosted in Father Jorge's kitchen and also cooked it in his gas oven.  Twas yummy!  Our table looked pretty much like yours, laden with mashed sweet potatoes, green beans (not the casserole pleez), regular mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce  (thanks to a care package from Samantha's Mom), apple pie and sweet potato pie.

After getting fully sated, we settled in to watch "The Help" that Martin had pirated on his computer.  Five minutes into the movie it got hung up.  We tried forever to get it to play and even to re-download to no avail.  So much for stolen pics!  Then the power went out so we settled into a loooooong conversation about religion--specifically, how do we reeeeally know there is a God and if you don't believe in God are you reeeeeally going to Hell?  And what about the Jewish, Muslim, Agnostics, Atheists etc.?  Of course we didn't come to a unified front but all hoped we would see each other in the hereafter.

Two days later it was time to hit the road to our two week training session.  Samantha got us all tickets on the 7am matatu, I moved into Katie's house since Father needed my house for his holiday guests, and Katie and I fixed dinner for the evening.  Shortly around 7pm we got a call that there was only one matatu leaving Maralal Saturday and it was at 1am.  We had no choice but to agree to hop on.  It's the end of the "short rains" here and the roads were so bad that only one matatu had made it back to Maralal and no others would be coming.  The roads were all washed out, flooded or mud swamps.

We waited outside in the rain for the matatu driver to pick us up and he called to say he couldn't make it up the hill.  We slogged our suitcases, backpacks and stuff down the hill and jumped in.  We headed back to town to see if he could fill up his ride.  The drivers fill every seat before they leave so you can sit for hours.  Which is exactly what we did!  Not only that but he refused to take on any more female passengers, only male, since the road was soooo bad and he needed men to push if we got stuck.  After an hour wait the price suddenly went up 100 shillings because of the weather.  He finally filled up all the seats at 4am and we were off.  I can't even begin to tell you how scary it is to slip and slide in the dark in a mud pit.  I had shotgun because I bought an extra seat for my suitcase so I had an amazing view.  We weren't 20 minutes along before we got stuck.  Why is it that men drivers want to act so macho?  Really.  If he had just given the gas a steady pace instead of trying to gun it thru the puddle we would never have ended up in that ditch.  We all got out, unhitched the rope that was wrapped around the bumper for such an emergency, and literally pulled the vehicle out of the ditch amid spinning tires, mud and pouring rain.  And we were off again.  Luckily I had worn my rain boots so only they were covered in slop--this time.

At daybreak we slid off the road again into the ditch.  We all unloaded and went for rocks, branches, tree limbs to put under the tires for some traction.  No luck.  We weren't getting out of this one by ourselves.  We were now at the mercy of another driver.

See our "tow rope" wrapped around the wipers and tied to the bumper!

After waiting about a half hour a lorry came along with a chain and hooked up to pull us out.  Guess what?  The chain broke!  So we settled in to wait again.  After an hour a loaded bus came along and managed to unglue us from our muck.  And we're off.  Our so-so fortune lasted about an hour when we came to a road section that had become a lake.  There were four lorries, three matatus, five cars all stuck either in or around the flood and nothing is moving anywhere and the skies were wide open with torrents of rain.  Boy was I wishing I could call AAA.  For five hours we tried every conceivable option to get out of there.  We just managed to get ourselves stuck in another new spot deep in the mud and the macho driver spinning us deeper and deeper into muck.  I tried to take some pics but it was raining soooooooooo heavy that they all came out blurred.  So I settled into my front seat for a nap.  I had just entered lala land when the driver poked me on the arm and said "you drive."  Thank God.  I knew I could get us out of there and I DID! Slow and steady on the gas and we were free.  All the pullers and pushers cheered, hopped aboard as we waved to everyone else still stuck there.  Everyone of us was covered in mud from head to toe, soaking wet and chilled but we were smiling.  What normally would have been a 7 hour trip became 17 by the time we arrived at Nyahururu to spend the night.

We got our rooms, stripped off our muddy garb and dumped it in the sink to soak while we grabbed some food at the downstairs restaurant.  After dinner it was time to wash that crap, our bodies and dig the mud from our boots and shoes.  We boarded another matatu in the morning for the last leg of our trip to Limuru arriving just before lunch.

Limuru is a lovely little village in a valley that reminded me of Shenandoah.  Somehow I missed the memo about the weather--coooooooooold and rainy every day.  Who cares if it is green, full of flowers and a decent hotel if you are freezing your ass off.  No, they don't have any heat there.  Yea, the staff knows it's cold so they do the best they can.  Here is what you get at bedtime
I haven't seen one of these since my grandma gave me one when I had a tummy ache!  Every night at 8:30 pm there was a mad dash to reception to claim yours since they always were short a few.  It did help to take the chill off the cold sheets and keep your tootsies warm.

It was wonderful to spend two weeks with my 50 other classmates that I had not seen since initial training.  Boy have we all changed!  A few mice now roar, and several wallflowers are blooming brightly.  Quite a few found some local love and shed mucho pounds with new found happiness.  Personally, I am enjoying my new level of patience and lack of stress.

This training made much more sense now that we have lived the life for three months.  We have a greater understanding of the local problems and how we may be of assistance rather than trying to solve all of them.

I was also notified during the week that I was being relocated-- a site change.  Since my work is in "the bush" and there is the problem of bandits there, Peace Corps has deemed it unsafe for travel.  So I will be moving after the new year to Kabarnet.  It is a bigger town than Maralal and I will be working with a local SACCO (credit union) doing marketing and PR.  I am excited about the change but will surely miss Maralal, especially Mama dog and Father Jorge and the other PCVs here.  I understand that I have a decent house there but a community toilet and shower without hot water.  Not crazy about the thought of a night run outside for a pee or even dashing in my towel after a bucket bath.  I think I will be doing something about that.

Soooooo, I'm movin right along.  In the meantime, I'm off to Nairobi in the am to meet my baby girl for a fabulous three week holiday vacation.  A very Merry Christmas to all and only good things for you in the new year.  Thank God for your many blessings--I do--and live in the moment cause the next second is not promised.

Saturday, November 12, 2011

Sukari takes a bow

Here she is--what a cutie!  She looks just like Mama dog with her white paws and splash of white on her tail.  Not totally mine yet as she still needs Mama but at least I get to play with her every day.  She is bashful but thankfully doesn't wheedle when I touch her.  I have her rabies and distemper vaccine in my fridge all waiting.  Here you go to a chemist (like a pharmacy) to buy your drugs, for humans too.  I got enough for Mama and all the pups and already gave Mama hers.  Did have to close my eyes with the needle stick cause I don't like shots either.  Such a wuss!

Mama has become my new best friend--I think the doggie treats help.  Good thing since I will be taking one of her babies.  She is now my askari (policeman) and lays outside my door day and night.  She has figured out how to scooch between the metal bars and come inside to get a neck scratch.  This is posing a problem for her though as she is supposed to be a watchdog.  She's watching all right.  Only me.  The night watchman is getting perturbed with her because she is neglecting her work.  Only when I turn off all my lights at night does she leave my door and proceed on her night rounds looking for potential intruders.  Once she deems it all clear she is back on my door stoop.

So I recently returned from my second trip to the bush where I had really hoped to milk a camel.  Didn't happen.  It ended up being a rescue mission of sorts as we were tasked to test the roads to determine if they were passable by lorries (big trucks) after the current rains.  The lorries were hauling 10,000 bales of hay for livestock that were near death from the recent drought.

The trip up began relatively uneventfully, no flat tires this time, until we passed thru a small town on market day.  Once through we were hailed down by a piki-piki (motorcycle) driver.  He said there were bandits on the road and he had just been robbed.  This actually happens a lot here especially on market days when they know people have money in their pockets for buying or having sold items.  As any type of vehicle traffic is slim, it is easy to lay in wait to accost someone.   He said the bandits were "warriors" (young men in local attire scheduled to celebrate their circumcision in December) with rifles.  So what do we do?  We turned around and went back into town to find the askari.  Couldn't be found.  So we waited around a bit until a local councilman showed up to ride with us to the next town.  He hopped in and we proceeded without any encounters.

We arrived at Loogoloogo around noon and proceeded to the old airstrip that is owned by the African Inland Church.  The plane hangar there is where the hay was to have been dropped by the lorries from Nairobi and then we would arrange local lorries to deliver to areas in need.

This is the first drop of hay in the hangar.  It was being guarded by a local who slept on a paper sheet in the right foreground.  As there is no communication in the bush, we called on the satellite phone to find out when the rest of the hay would be coming.  We were told "soon" and that means whenever.  We unpacked our sandwiches, ate our lunch and waited. Our phone message had stated we deemed the roads passable with only a couple of iffy areas.  Four hours later nothing and we needed to hit the road to get to our bush house before dark.  Another text message sent and the response was they would be there in 30 minutes.  We decided to head out and meet them along the road.  About 5km outside of town we met the convoy of lead car and two lorries.  We gave them directions to the hangar and then headed off into the literally setting sun for the bush house in Ngurunit.  Arriving after dark and totally whupped from the heat, dust and long day, we fixed some rice and decided it was bedtime.

Now I know you remember I told you I had bats in my bush house and that issue still hadn't been resolved.  We did bring with us chicken wire and window screening to solve that problem but that would happen the next day.  So, where to sleep?  Laura said I should sleep in her house because the bats seemed to favor her room and not the guest room.  I shook the dust and dirt from the sheets on the bed, tucked in the net after tying up some big holes, washed my face and crawled inside.  I wanted to read a bit so opened up my kindle and pulled out the light.  Whoosh!  Whoosh!  Bats everywhere!!!  They were hanging on the net staring at me!  I put away the kindle thinking they were attracted to the light and maybe would move into Laura's room.  Splat!  Right on my face.  Not poop but spit.  Yep, they spit.  I laid in wait with my flashlight thinking I would hear where they landed and then blind them with the light.  Only made them madder when I did that.  There must have been 10 bats hanging around my net.  I don't remember how many times I was spit on during the night, I quit counting, but just cowered with the sheets over my head.  A very restless night.

The next morning we put out the word to have the local fundi (specialist) come by to do the bat proofing.  He showed up an hour later with a hammer and wire cutters and we gave him instructions.  He needed to enclose the gap between the roof and walls with the screening and rescreen the windows.

So now we were off to resolve the hay issue.  The lorries had off loaded in Loogologoo but we needed to get the hay to the surrounding areas and still had another section of road to survey.

On the drive into town I was taken by how different it all looked from my previous visit.  Rain really makes a difference.  This now looked like the Kenya I envisioned before coming here.  The trees and bushes were green and blooming even if the road areas were now muddy gulleys.

This is the view from my house of the Ndoto Mountains.  The center acacia trees didn't survive the drought but everywhere else is beginning to reawaken.  With the rains, livestock and families are beginning to return to the area.

This herd of camels is returning to their home base. A local camel trader told me a great story.  He had arranged the sale of 60 camels to Laura a couple of years ago.  The camels are purchased in Somalia and it takes 2-3 weeks for the herders to WALK them to Ngurunit.  By the time they arrived, the herdsmen were so famished they went into a local hoteli for food and water.  When they went outside after eating 10 camels were missing.  They found them the next day (20km away) heading for home--Somalia!  Apparently camels have to have a readjustment period to know their new surroundings and not having this they just went back to what they knew.  Old habits die hard, huh.

In town we located a resident lorrie owner and arranged for him to go for some of the hay and also determined he would store it at the local butcher warehouse.  The warehouse had been empty a long time due to the drought.  He was tasked with finding two other lorries and locations for storage.

Now we were off to drive the road the lorries would use to get the hay up here.  After a 4 hour round trip we reported it was passable with one area of concern.  One section of the road had washed out and you needed to detour through the woods.  Okay.  But the detour might not be wide enough for a lorrie to pass through the trees.  Hmmm.  We texted this info to the lead car driver.

Back at the bush house it was time to see how the fundi was doing.

My bush house from the front.


The "terrace" or back of my bush house where I spend alot of time having my coffee and viewing the Ndoto Mountain range, watching the local children graze their animals and occasionally see a family of elephants.  That actually happened my last morning in the bush and created quite a stir locally.  It had been 5 years since elephants had come into town. Missed the pic cause they were too far off for my camera.

So the fundi was still at work and I knew if the job was going to get done in one day I needed to help.  I spotted some areas that needed extra mesh and filled them in and then we were running out of mesh.  We made do by blocking the most important areas and filled in the rest with old foam from a discarded mattress.  Done!  Now I can test it out tonight.

As there is no food in the bush, we bring everything we need including diesel. We asked Nankaya, Laura's housegirl to spread the word we wanted a goat the next night. I fixed some spaghetti with fresh tomato sauce and we pulled our chairs outside into the night to eat.  We also drug out Laura's computer and popped in the dvd "Chocolat" for viewing.  It was almost over when a car pulls up--the lead car driver.  He had the lorrie driver with him who refused to drive the hay into town until he had seen the road.  Guess I would think twice about getting my truck stuck too.  He said he would not drive the road.  We would need to arrange for smaller trucks to deliver the hay.  We had Nankaya put out the word for drivers and to also alert the local women's basket weaving group that we wanted to have a meeting in the morning.

This is where Nankaya lives.  It's called a manyatta (family compound) surrounded by thorny acacia branches for security.  It is a snail-shell shaped home made of twigs covered in discarded aid relief bags to provide waterproofing.  The floor is dirt and it is only about 4 feet high.  You definitely duck your head to enter the steaming sauna and a campfire is always burning inside.  Jeez it's hot and smoky in here!

Time for bed and to determine if the bats have moved on.  Im all tucked inside my net and whoosh.  F#***ers are back.  But only one.  I listen and watch in the dark to determine the entrance spot.  Will fix that tomorrow.  At least this one hangs from the ceiling away from my bed, so good night bat.  I'm too tired to care tonight.

In the morning this guy was having breakfast from the acacia tree on my terrace while I had my coffee.  Notice the half delta on his thigh--local family brand.  His camel bell is made of leather and has gentle breezy tinkle as he strolls.

We head over to the basket house for our meeting and stop at the local campground to borrow any wire mesh they may have.  We're in luck and will pick it up on the way home.  The women's basket group, including Nankaya, have been weaving traditional baskets for income.  Nankaya and three others even went to the Smithsonian Folk Festival this year to exhibit their wares.
The basket weavers.  They each have a designated day of the week to come to the basket house to weave and of course they bring their children in tow or tied on their backs with a blanket.  Our meeting was to distribute payment for the baskets sold at the DC festival and discuss a second order for a company in CA due to be shipped in January.  We meet under the acacia trees surrounding the basket house while families of monkeys chase their young to the delight of the mamas' children.
Weaving while we wait for others to arrive.
Mama and baby, sans diapers as is customary.

With the meeting concluded we collect our wire and head back to finish the bat job.  We spot the suspicious holes, plug them up and go fix lunch.  Then its off to a nearby town to have a meeting about the school bursary fund.  Locals solicit money for school fees to send kids to school.  This group decides how the money is to be distributed.  As we are driving we are hailed by a local councilman that asks us to pick up some medicine at the clinic for his wife in the same town.

Upon arriving in the town, we put out the word the meeting will be under some local trees in an hour and go to the clinic to get the medicine.  The clinic is staffed by the Methodist Mission with a nurse from the US.  She has been here five years and will return to the states in December.  No replacement.
The town is very proud of the new clinic.  Always walk-in and they even have a delivery ward.
Some guiding health principles.
Samburu Maternity Ward.  You can have your baby here!
This room has a sink and metal bed inside.  It has a mirror room called the "delivery ward" which is down the hall.

We collect the drugs from the nurse and go back to the trees for our meeting.  Four hours later we are back at the bush house.  Nankaya says we need to go to a local manyatta to choose our goat for dinner.
We stroll across the ravine out back and peruse the flock enclosed.  I choose a younger one, all white with black feet.  Sorry fella.  I need some protein.  I have no interest in watching the kill so the tribesman agrees to bring it over shortly ready for choma (grilling).
Nankaya roasting the goat leg.  The rest of the goat is hanging from a hook in the doorway of Laura"s kitchen.  I fixed some sides of sliced tomatoes and rice and we chowed down.  Boy did I need that protein.  I was actually feeling woozy all day for some hardy sustenance.

The next morning we pack up to head home.  A couple of locals drop by to tell us about the roads.  Very important info here with the rains coming in sporadically.  The road conditions are not the issue this time.  It seems there was an incident last night in a town we traverse.  A group of five warriors decided they were going to retrieve their cows recently stolen by a Turkana tribe.  They loaded their rifles and headed into the bush where they were ambushed and 4 were killed.  We won't go that way home!

All in all this was a pleasant bush trip.  We had some successful missions, nice weather, but mainly I enjoyed myself.  This is primarily because I gave myself an attitude adjustment.  I have no magic power to change people who do not want to change.  So, I will just let go of that thought, quit pushing and go with the flow.  Certainly relieved a lot of my stress.  Will try to milk a camel next trip.

Sunday, October 9, 2011

OOPS!!!!

Sorry to have ended the previous post so abruptly.  Hit the wrong button.  Oops. I was also having some technical difficulties and didnt want to use up more web time trying to sort it all out.  Let me try to finish the tour of my house before I move on to other topics.

This is my guest bedroom with bunk beds and another cot in the same room.  Father is well prepared for his guests.  This house came fully furnished (except for kitchen) which saved me lots of shillings.

This is Mitas and her baby girl.  Never did understand what her name is cause I dont speak Samburu.  Mitas milks her cow every morning then brings me a liter of milk.  I have to boil it before drinking which means I have cappucino daily but I can deal with that.

On to other items now.  IM GETTING A PUPPY!!! Father's mama dog had six pups and I get the pick of the pack.  I have recently made friends with the Mama dog (no name) but she still wont let me near her babies.  I have picked out the one I want--cute little black thing with a white splotch on the head.  Dont know if its male or female yet.  They are two weeks old now so I will officially get "it" in another 6-8 weeks.  The pack is mutts but look like mama had a fling with a german shepherd.  Father also has a cute mutt he bought on the street that looks like a shepherd mix.  She is about 8-10 weeks and I named her CoKa (after my boys Cognac and Kahlua) and I play with her daily. Father even agreed to keep my "it" for me when I am away and to take it back when I go home.  I will train them both together as a thank you for Father deciding I can stay in his house till July.  I still have to vacate for the month of December so his guests can visit.  Im ok with that since I will be gone most of the month anyway.  I will move in with another volunteer for the one week gap though.

New subject.  If you ever visit Kenya DO NOT FEED THE LOCALS!  Here's what I mean.  When muzungus (white people) come here they feel sorry for the pitiful situation, kids having shabby clothes, hauling water jugs, no shoes, yada yada yada.  So they throw candies from bus windows or even shillings.  Then they also go to restaurants and leave big tips (even though the food is cheap by comparison.) So what's the problem here?  Well, for those of us that are now "local residents" all the kids come up to us on the street begging "give me a sweet, give me shilling, buy me water" etc. It's a real pain in our ass.  We have to re-educate the kids by saying "tabia mbaya" (bad manners) which results in stern, confused looks. So please dont do any of those things cause you make it really difficult for those of us living here.

I did manage to have a getaway weekend recently.  Another volunteer and myself decided to link up with 10 other volunteers in Meru for the weekend.  It was a 12 hour one way trip.  What a slog!  It involved three different matatu changes but was still worth it to see other parts of Kenya.  We split up after dinner to find lodging and since all of them are "kids" I knew it would be a sharing situation on the cheap.  Four of us decided to share and Samantha and I went to book the hotel room.  The receptionist saw the two guys lurking outside and asked where they were staying and of course we lied (they charge by the head here).  So we snuck the guys into the room in the wee hours and of course the next day got busted.  At least one of the guys did. The other one jumped over the balcony and strolled away scott free.  Reminded me of the old college days when we would all go to the beach and have 20 people in a room, right?

On the 12 hour return trip to Maralal I had the privilege of sitting next to a woman holding a baby who crapped his pants a couple of hours into the ride, without a diaper!  Poop was oozing out as she happily bounced the little bugger up and down on her lap.  If I had had breakfast I would have chucked it.  Since I was next to the door with a window, I yanked the window wide open for the remainder of the ride.  I preferred getting blasted by the road dust to sniffing poop.  And boy was I coated.  When I got out I wiped my face and neck with a scarf and the scarf was dusty red all over.

So now you are all caught up.  I have moved from being frustrated to just plain bored at work.  Will spend the next week looking for something fruitful to do.  So I leave you with this:

Six industrious ants. One dead worm.  Breakfast for at least a week for the whole colony!

Odds and Ends

It's a lazy Saturday afternoon, nice breeze, warm sunshine and the carpenter bees are busy boring their holes in the wooden eaves outside my living room window.  My little house is all clean, clothes folded and cobwebs wiped from the window sills and ceiling.  Tomorrow morning I will have to wipe them all away again as the spiders will have launched their webs to catch their evening meal of skeeters and gnats.

Time to catch you up on things for the past few weeks.  Work is still incredibly slooooooow.  Watching paint dry would be more exciting!

I remembered I had yet to share the story of the International Camel Derby that took place the very first weekend I arrived in August.  I had actually read about it in my travel guide once I learned I would be posted here.  I guess the writer never attended because what a joke!  Don't understand why the call it "international" unless it's because the heritage of the camels must be from somewhere outside Kenya.  Nothing international about it.  The Derby has been going on for about 10 years and was intended as a fund raising event for local charities.  They don't charge to attend but if you want to actually race a camel then you pay.  The price is negotiable and you do that directly with the camel owner.  Then you get to hop aboard the makeshift saddle, race for a quarter mile, hop on a bicycle and ride for the same distance and then turn back around and run it.  Somehow it never really works out that way.  Most of the entrants are muzungu tourists passing through on their way to somewhere else and they heard about the Derby.  There were only five people who actually raced and only one that made it to the end.  The judges got confused about the order of the race so the bicycle part never happened.  Some people fell off the rickety saddles, some jumped off (that thing hurts your ass!) and some of the camels just quit.  At least it was a nice sunny day for all the mishaps.
Those in the green shirts are officials or potential entrants


Tuesday, September 13, 2011

Message from Stephanie

Hi everyone!

I just spoke with mom for an hour via Skype and she looks and sounds great!  I will be visiting her from Dec 18-Jan 8.  If you have anything that you would like me to take her (care package style), please get in contact with me via my email at sweetstephjohnson@gmail.com.  She has a list of "wants" and a list of "needs "that she will be sending me before the trip, so let's go shopping for wet wipes and chapstick and give her some comforts of home.  Please forward (email) me any pics and stories that you have of your memories with her so I can put together an album to take with me.

xoxo,
Steph

Saturday, September 10, 2011

Just Being...

There's a wasp that just flew into my living room--by mistake.  I'm sure he thought it was just another part of the big open world he inhabits.  Now he is trying to find his way out.  He's crawling up the glass window pane using three of his four legs.  His back leg is like a rudder keeping him grounded.  Ooops. A little slip but he quickly latches on again.  Strange looking creature. Haven't seen one like it before.  Big head attached to a smaller oval body and a stinger that looks like it could put a real hurt on you.  I could squash him and examine him like we used to do in Biology class. Nah! I'll just watch him some more.  He doesn't even know I'm here silently observing his every move. The birds are chirping occasionally, sun dodging in and out of the clouds and mostly I just hear the sound of nothing.

There's a moth that just landed on my chair.  He probably hung on the wall all night and now wants to find his escape.  Or maybe he wants to find a light or flame he can circle like a nut case.  Oh. There he goes. Found the open window and went on his way.

The wasp is getting frantic now.  Been climbing and slipping on that glass for a while now.  I don't want him to get pissed and zip back into the room and find me.  There.  I eased open the window and let him fly back into his familiar outdoor world.  I wonder where he will be going?   Does he have a family that was missing him?  Did they think he was gone too long?  Will they ask about his journey when he returns?

The roses I picked yesterday are thinking about greeting the day.  Those sweet buds of pink and red in the pitcher on the table are gently letting their petals peek open.  One little layer peeling open to the fresh air on the gentle wisp of a breeze coming thru the open windows.  How do they know when to do this I wonder?  Who tells them how many petals to let relax and be in the moment?  Must be God.

I hear the tinkle of cow bells.  The herd is returning from their morning graze in a nearby field.  They walk gently, slowly down the path beside my little house.  I see them in twos or three abreast.  They don't know I'm watching.  I bet they are happy to have a full tummy and knowing they will soon be back home to lie in their own yard for a nap.  They occasionally moo to each other, carrying on a simple conversation known only to them.  Wonder what they talk about?  Do they complain about the grass being too wet?  Having to eat around thorny bushes?  Complain about someone chomping on their favorite spot?  Wish I knew.

I'm fascinated by the flora I see outside.  Poinsettias that we only know as Christmas plants are ten foot trees here.  Constantly blooming with their red and pink flowers. I remember how I would try to extend the blooming of the ones at home by locking them in a dark closet to trick them into a new season.  It never worked. It just happens here all by itself as part of a master plan surely not known to me.  My begonia is not just a small potted plant like I was used to depositing in a window box.  It is a full shrub bursting with an orange-red palette for all to enjoy.  I would like to give it a bit of pruning.  Maybe give it some shape.  That would be hard to do with just a kitchen knife.  Guess I will just enjoy it the way it is.

I'm just being.  In the moment.  In the quiet.  A silent observer to all the marvels of life on a Saturday afternoon.  I like it. Having the time and space to relish the tranquility.  Watching and observing differently, without distraction, able to wonder.  Almost childlike.  Just being...

Thursday, September 8, 2011

Live-in Bats and Other Tales of "The Bush"

At 9am on Saturday morning we loaded up the Suzuki with boxes of food, a jeri can of diesel, one of gasoline and another of water.  All are scarce in the bush. Laura, daughter Naiboku who was out of school for the week and myself headed out.  We hoped to be across the Milgus River before dark.  It had rained heavily in the Mt Kenya area and we had gotten stories of muddy roads and a fast running river.  Hopefully we would have a sunny day and the river would have dried enough in the heat of the day so the river crossing would be a snap.

Three hours down the road and we got a flat.  You always travel with a real spare here so Laura jacked the baby up and I removed the lug nuts.  We had that puppy changed in about 15 minutes and were on our way.  But now we had no spare so we had to stop in the next village.  It was about an hour out and is truly a half horse town.  It had a couple of dukas (shops) and a piki-piki stand (delivery motorbikes).  Laura had had the same incident there before so she knew who to call.  We stopped at the piki-piki stand and asked them where the tire dude was.  In about ten minutes he showed up and we drove to his house to have him fix it. He lays the tire on the ground and proceeds to wrest the tire from the wheel casing with a three foot piece of steel fashioned like a crow bar that he beat with a rock.  It took a while but he got it separated and with a small pan of water soon located the hole.  He proceeded to patch it and then put the tube back in the tire.  Now we needed air so the piki-piki driver loaned us his tire pump.  We inflated the tire and within minutes it was flat again.  Must be another leak, huh? Back to wedging the tire apart and finding the next leak.  But now the piki-piki driver had a delivery call and had to leave--with his pump!  After all he might need it himself.

We found the other hole, patched it but had no air.  So we headed off to the local Catholic Church.  In Africa, churches have everything and they share.  The priest was conducting a wedding so we settled in under a tree in his front yard and waited.  A while later he comes out leading the procession to the parsonage for the reception.  He dashed inside to get his pump for us.  We inflated the tire and it went flat again.  After fixing the third hole the tire finally held air and we were once again on our way.  This whole exercise cost us three hours of drive time.  Gonna be close crossing the river now.


This is the road.  Pretty slow going even in a 4x4. At best you can cruise at 5-15 mph dodging car eating holes and mudslide craters.  With all that fuel on board we didnt want to risk a spark from a thrown up rock.  Our route is around the mountains and through the woods.  Along the way are people dotting the path trying to hitch a ride carrying containers to find water or asking for food.  As it was getting late in the day and with the river ahead, we picked up a Samburu man heading in our direction.  We figured we might need his help if we got stuck in the river. Around 5pm we rounded the overlook to get a glimpse of the river.

We're really gonna drive across that!  We were still another 40minutes minimum to the crossing and after a long discussion I insisted we call it a day and cross in the daylight.  It would certainly be dark by the time we got to the Milgus and then we had to walk it before we could drive it to find any lurking sinkholes.

Laura said she knew someone who used to have a house in the area and he would put us up for the night.  We drove in search of his place.  By the way, there are no road signs or streets signs remember.  By the time we found his place it was pitch dark.  When we drove into his compound there was a rather large Samburu family squatting on his land.  He had been gone for several years they said and his house was locked up and abandoned.  We considered driving back down the road to a school and asking for a bed in their dorm but it was closed and locked for the week.  One of the Samburu women said she lived nearby and had room for us to stay at her house.  Laura walked with her back up the hill and reported back to me that it would do for the night.

We drove to her compound and she had two houses.  One she lived in with her twin granddaughters and the other was occupied by her son and his wife with two children.  There was a flurry of activity as they prepared her house for guests while we waited in the car.  It was black dark and the wind was raging like a hurricane was coming.  I thought the roof was going to go flying like in the Wizard of Oz!

About an hour later she invited us inside.  There were two baby goats tied to the side of a tiny hallway which led to the bedroom where we found two cozy beds.  She had borrowed blankets and mosquito nets for each bed and a kerosene lantern lit the wee space.  The dirt floor had been swept clean of goat poop but she said they would have to stay with us there as they were just a week old.

Mama outside our shared house in the morning.
My bed.  Sacks from previously donated grain were nailed to the sticks of the walls.

We were tired, hungry and grateful to be inside.  We unloaded our food boxes and shared with her family our tomatoes, carrots and pasta (which she prepared) and were asleep by 9:30 as the wind continued to howl. Mama woke us at 6am with a pot of tea and we reloaded and headed toward the river scratching like a couple of dogs from all the flea bites on our arms and legs.

When we got there the sun had already dried alot of the area turning it into large sections that looked liked chocolate curls.
But there was still quite a bit of water.  Do you see the road on the other side?  A few seconds after this shot, the Samburu man sank to his neck in a muddy sinkhole.  It took us an hour to walk the river to find the best route and about 10 minutes to get across.  It was a knuckle wrenching ride.  And we were off again.

Two hours later we had another flat tire.  We stopped at the next village and while we got some lunch had it fixed.  Im sure the process was the same but this time the guy had his own pump. This setback meant we would need to spend another night on the road but fortunately we were near a decent campsite in South Horr where we checked in for the night. We were all disgustingly muddy and stinky so the outdoor cold showers actually felt great in the steamy afternoon.  Laura's husband, Reuben, met us there as he was enroute back to Maralel.  We had a nice dinner of roast goat, rice, chapati and cold sodas before heading to bed.

Due to the water crisis in Kenya it is not uncommon to find this sign in the toilet or the message actively practiced at homes everywhere.
In the morning we swapped vehicles with Reuben. I was not sad to give him his Suzuki before it put me in traction and we got Laura's Land Cruiser.  Woohoo!  What a nice ride.

We arrived in Ngurunet "the bush" around 4pm.  Welcome to the desert.  It is a one horse town where Laura knows everyone.  Her husband is Samburu and this is his family nest.  We greeted everyone along the way to her house as she asked the women to spread the word that we would have a meeting in the morning of the various groups that her organization supervises.  Boy was it hot!! Im guessing at least 95 in what little shade you can get from an Acacia tree. But Im loving the heat.  Just like DC in August. We passed the local government office where there were long lines of people waiting for a US AID food delivery truck that was rumored to be there soon to deliver sacks of maze.  Everyone was carrying a jeri can in search of water or hopes of getting it filled at a local spring.  And they were all smiling, happy and welcoming.  Laura remarked that many of the women seemed thinner than her last visit--due to the drought and lack of food.  Nearly naked children ran and teased their herd of goats and camels as they led them in search of sustenance across the sandy, dusty, deserted open areas.

We drove into Laura's compound where there is her family house and behind it a guest house that will be my home when there.  She has solar electricity but no water.  Her maid had gathered three cans of water for us when she heard we were on our way that would last us for our three days there.

My house was simply furnished with a small living room area sofa and chair, galley kitchen with gas stove top, small bedroom with double bed and outdoor patio. No water or power. The shower room and choo were outside nearby. Cozy and neat and the maid had cleaned the day before.  After unpacking I headed for a bucket bath in the shower room.  Cold water never felt so good splashing all over my dusty bones!

We fixed a light dinner and I headed back to my house to read by the lantern for a bit. Whoosh.  Whoosh.  A bird is flying around me.  Wait! Another one.  And then a third one.  I watch to see how they got inside and realize they were coming in from the bedroom.  They settled down in there so I kept reading for a while and then decided it was time for bed.  I tried to find them  but didnt see them so ducked under my mosquito net, tucked it tight and settled in for a steamy night.  Then I hear a fluttering under my bed.  Its the kind that has the springs on the bottom and you lay your mattress on top.  Seems I had disturbed the buggers when I moved in the bed.  They began to dive bomb my net.  I got my flashlight that is always beside my pillow and holy shit--it's bats!!  They were hanging from the bedsprings for the night.  For the rest of the night when I moved they got pissed.  I finally got to sleep in the wee hours and when I awoke they were gone.  But, bat poop was everywhere. I surveyed the house to see how they were finding entrance.  There is a space between the roof and the walls that had once been screened but now was just holy mesh and the window screening was full of gaping holes.  Aha!  I swept out the poop and marched off to ask Laura about my night visitors.

That question generated a laughing response.  "I've tried to get rid of them but they keep coming back.   Grover (previous volunteer) didn't mind them--he even made them his pets."  My reply "Good for Grover but I dont do bats."  I insisted that on our next trip we would be bringing screens and wire mesh to close all the open areas or that would be my last trip to the bush. I reminded her that Peace Corps doesn't do bats either.

The next morning we headed off to our meetings.  First stop was the basket weaving group.  There are 256 Samburu women in this co-op who have been together 5 years.  They weave baskets from tree fronds and decorate them with strung beads.  They had a display at this years Smithsonian Folk Festival demonstrating their skill and selling their wares.  Over the past several months there has been considerable discord in the group over being able to sell their creations locally outside the group, the price of baskets they ship and women not paying dues.  We addressed all these issues with the two co-managers before the meeting which took place under several acacia trees in a sandy, dried up river bed.  About 80 women attended.  Lillian (one of the managers) is quite an orator.  She succinctly addressed each issue with the group and followed my suggestion to get a vote on each issue.  Afterward all the women filed back to the basket house to collect payment for what had been sold in DC.  They were very welcoming to me and accepted my suggestions readily.  I told them I would be back in a month to check on their progress. We also scheduled a meeting with the managers for the next morning as a follow up and to give them some new direction and focus.  Time for some new rules and consequences.

Next stop was the honey processing house.  It is a small concrete facility constructed last year and housing new equipment to process raw honey for packaging and sale.  Ten women have received training and yet the equipment was still boxed and not one jar of honey has been prepared. There were lots of excuses which had no merit.  As we conducted our meeting, several men from another processing group were listening at the windows.  I laid out some new rules and when I mentioned the one where they needed to produce within the next 30 days or we would rent the house and equipment to the men--boy did that get everyone's attention.  The men cheered and accosted us with questions when we were leaving.  We'll see how they do.

Final stop of the day was to a campground that has been in operation for 3 years.  It is a very nice facility with six bandas (thatched roof huts) for guests, an outdoor kitchen and reception area.  It has lots of potential but nothing is happening.  I met with the manager and we walked the property and he made a to-do list based on my comments.  Everything I suggested could be done with no cash required.  He was given his 30 day put up notice and we headed home.

It was late in the afternoon and we were hot, tired and hungry.  We would not meet with the camel rearing groups this trip because they were in training sessions with their main donor Heifer Intl.

The next morning we met with the basket ladies to establish an agreed list of responsibilities, pay and marketing strategies so they would have a higher probability of success in the next month.  I finally felt like I was making a contribution.  I will be curious to see what sticks.

After the meeting we loaded up the car to head to Nairobi. We decided to take a different route so we would not have to cross the river again and be delayed. Naiboku had a dental appointment Friday morning and I needed to do some shopping at Nakumatt (the Costco of Kenya).  We stayed overnight in Nanyuki with a friend of Laura's, Tene.  She is Belgian with two kids and has been in Kenya for six years.  She just started her own consulting firm and wanted to pick my brain.  She has a lovely house in a private compound outside of town.  Her father had worked many years in Kenya, now retired, and they own a large tract of land where they are building two homes for themselves and Tene in Nanyuki.

Thursday around 2 we arrived in Nairobi uneventfully.  Laura and Naiboku were staying with friends and I decided to have an upscale couple of days at a very nice hotel.  Peace Corps may require we live like the locals but time off is a different story!  I had a glorious time getting a haircut, mani, pedi and eating some awesome food.  I also cruised the Nakumatt aisles planning my purchases and deciding about which fridge would fit in the car upright for the trip back to Maralel.


Sunday morning we proceeded with our shopping.  I was crushed when the fridge I wanted would not fit in the car and had to do a plan B.  Being able to now buy cheese, butter, mayo and bread to put in my little bugger made up for the disappointment.  We were loaded to the gills when we headed out for home.

We were planning a stop to take Laura's son from his boarding school for an overnight in Nyeri and stay in Nanyuki again with Tene.  We didn't make it.  In Nyeri it was raining donkeys and as it was late in the afternoon, we knew we would not make it before dark. ( I wont travel at night on those crappy roads!)  Laura called a friend that had some cabins to rent in Nyeri and luckily she had one free.  The road to the cabins is about two miles off the main road through the woods and she said it was a mud pit.  You guessed right!  We got stuck about 500 feet down the road.  Leslie and Jonathan rescued us in their trusty old Subaru wagon with tractor tires.  Leslie drove Laura's truck because Laura was freaked out by the mud.
What an oasis.  Jonathan had built the perfect getaway and Leslie had stocked it to the nines.  Even the firepit was ready to be lit.
Laura's kids Naiboku and Loiwitte outside our cabin.

The next morning we had to wait for the road to dry out before attempting an exit.  So we managed to leave around noon.   That was after spending an hour trying to start the car.  Seems Leslie had left the parking lights on and the battery was dead.  We couldn't even jump it with cables so had to push that heavy behemoth so she could pop the clutch in 2nd gear.  Voila! Laura had to take Loiwitte back to school so I met Tene for lunch at a charming garden restaurant in Nanyuki for their Sunday Indian brunch.  It was packed with local muzungus, mainly British Army families since there is a base there.  Laura was late returning to Nanyuki (as usual) so we imposed on Tene to stay at her house.

The last leg of the trip was smooth.  Through the bush dodging families of elephants, zebras and giraffes that were wondering why we  were driving through their grazing lands.
This is a reticulated giraffe that is only seen in northern Kenya.  It is darker in color and has very distinct patchwork patterns.

So now Im home!  All my goodies are safe in my well stocked fridge.  It even made ice in the tiny freezer compartment.  I was so excited I wanted to lick the cubes.  I didn't. I put them in freezer bags to serve to my guests this weekend. Father Jorge came over to welcome me home with a big hug (maybe I am charming him!).  I even used my new iron today to burn away any hibernating fruit flies on my clean clothes. I did forget to remove the plastic covering though and fried that sucker on the iron.  I had to spend 30 minutes scraping it off before proceeding.  I know. Dumb ass, right?

Friday, August 26, 2011

I'm Incubating Fruit Flies!!!!

I had heard about fruit flies laying eggs in your clothes in this area of Kenya--it's true!!  This morning I was feeling an ache under my arm pit.  When I got home today I decided to check it out because it was reaaaaly sore.  I looked in the mirror and noticed a large lump. STOP READING NOW IF YOU DONT WANT TO HEAR THE GORY DETAILS!  I gave it a little squeeze and out popped a worm.  WTF!  It was the size of a baby caterpillar.  I coundn't stomp it fast enough. Sooooo disgusting.  On Tuesday the maid had hung my clothes to dry on the line so I guess it nested then.  Tough my supervisor says it normally takes 7 days and I must have gotten it in Nairobi.  Whatever.  It was there and it was squirming.  Karibu Kenya.  I am truly initiated now.

My first initation was in Loitokituk with all the red dust.  It was the consistency of powdered sugar and could permeate a pair of wool hiking socks in just a few hours.  I'm still living with the foot fungus that caused.  Even the best manicure could not remove all the black grunge under my nails.

Well that's two things.  Number three will certainly be a lulu.  Probably get broadsided by a camel in the bush this weekend!  Stay tuned.

Tuesday, August 23, 2011

A Moth to the Flame

8/23/2100 9:09 pm
I am sitting here in the dark watching a moth circle the candle on the table.  Twice it has had it's wings singed.  Dumb sucker!  Guess God forgot to give it a brain.

I was all set to take my shower, overjoyed that the hot water gadget had been fixed today.  Tested the water--yep it was hot.  Got buck naked and hopped in and the power went out.  I fumbled in the pitch black back to my bedroom for my pjs and here I am.  So with a full battery and money on my modem, here's an update.

It's hard to believe that graduation was last week.  The Ambassador is on the right.
A local band entertained us at his residence.
Yummy treats to celebrate the day.

The next morning it was off the Maralel with my sponsor Laura.  It was a harrowing two day off-road trip in her abused Suzuki.  We dodged elephants, zebra and camels.  We stopped overnight in Nynauki and headed out again the next morning.  This is truly the wild west of Kenya. 

I spent the first couple of nights with her while waiting for my house to be ready.  The first morning here I get a text from my friend and fellow Peace Corps buddy in Maralel, Martin. "They're shooting someone!"  Turns out there was an escaped convict and they did shoot at him before he surrendered in the street.  Then on a walk, one of Laura's dogs bit a child so it was off to the clinic for tetanus and medicine.  Nasty bite and when the father gets back it could be hell to pay.

Now Im settled into a lovely two bedroom house on a Catholic Church compound for the next 3 months.  I have to leave because Father will be having company for the holidays in MY house.  Im hoping to charm him into letting me stay here.  I will even volunteer to move out for the holidays IF I can move back in.

This is Samburu country.  This means most of the town is nomadic, also known as pastoral.  They herd their livestock in search of food and water.  Since depending on the time of year both can be scarce, drinking is a favorite pasttime for both men and women.  While the men are away, they drink.  While the men are away the women drink.  Samburu also culturally accept that men will have many women and the women also have many men.  So lots of tots roaming around but the father's do accept responsibility for them.  Depending on economic status determines how well they are cared for.

Most people have more than one job.  They have a full time one which means they work at it a few hours a day and then a part time one for the other hours a day.  Accepted practice.  Nobody works very hard and if it rains all bets are off.  The rest of the day is cancelled. 

There are no paved roads, only wide sandy streets that become flowing gullys when it does rain--like today.  We were watching a drunk woman run stark naked down the street and a storm blew in and the streets turned into flowing mud.  The police did manage to subdue the woman and take her away.

The other night I was walking Martin to my locked compound gate after dinner.  The night watchman, a Samburu, let him out. I tried to introduce myself but he did not speak Swahili.  I turned and left with my flashlight and walked back to my house.  When I approached my door and turned off my flashlight, I saw a glimmer of light behind me.  I turned around and saw this huuuuuuuuuuuge amazon in red plaid cape with a flashlight shining it on me.  It looked like an eerie apparition.  I almost peed my pants!!!! It was the watchman making sure I got home okay.  I now know his name and how to address him in Samburu.

Im still spending time settling into my place and buying the things I need (gas stove top, dishes, towels and food supplies) and go into the office for a few hours each morning.  I am working for an organization that has several camel preservation projects in the Turkana region further north.  In fact, we will be heading to "the bush" on Saturday for me to see the projects.  It is another 8 hours off-road from here.   They receive funding from various US charities to raise camels, train Samburu on care of the camels and breeding and other assorted community based projects.  It is my job to analyze their financial position and create a strategic plan for each project.

Im sooooooooo happy to have sunshine again and no more incessant dust.  It is in the 80s each day but when the sun goes down you need a jacket.  In "the bush" you can add another 20 degrees.  Hello suntan.  Who ever heard of being in Kenya and no tan, right?

I'll share a few more pics--the last for a while since I was sharing a camera cord and my buddy Matt is not here.
My host family in Loitokitok at our farewell picnic.
My little Leyian giving me a kiss.  Not something the average Kenyan does.
My pal Matt at graduation.  He is near Mombassa now.
My friend Stacy always stealing a smoke from me.
My friend Jenn that I will visit in Mombassa during the holidays.
Adopted children Breezie (Left) and Andrea (right).  We all shadowed together with Louis.

That's all for now.  Battery getting low and skeeters are buzzing.  Still no power so time for bed.

Tuesday, August 16, 2011

ALL THE LATEST NEWS


Sunday 26 June  7:42pm
Its so hard to remember all the little things that happen each day.  Keeping a journal seems such an onerous task when you have 12 hour days and then must study Kiswahili at night. Im going to try to fill in some of the gaps and post this when I can.  The internet cafe is very iffy.  Seems you just get logged on and type a few words and the power goes out.  At least you dont have to pay when that occurs.
My day begins with a quick splash of warm water on my face at 7am, followed by a gulp of coffee when Mama doesnt insist that today is chai day. Im in my boots slogging through the forest (ala corn field) on my way to class at 7:30. It usually begins with 2-4 hours of language. What a way to start the day!! My brain hasnt had to function at that hour in many years.  We did have an informal language exam last week and out of 10 sections I am in #3.  Im okay with that since I will NEVER strive to be top dog in Kiswahili. Then we have a chai break at 10:30 followed by more language for two hours.  We usually break for lunch at 12:30 for an hour then have culture orientation sessions for the afternoon.  We finish at 5 and by the time I trudge back through the forest it is 5:45 when I arrive home.

I usually help prepare dinner or sometimes even fix it for the family.  My family consists of Mama Janet who is quite the entrepreneur.  She is a farmer, owns a preschool and is treasurer of her church.  Her son Haron, his wife Grace, two children Lyian (age 4) and Simaloi(4 months) also live in the home.  Actually they have a house next door but at the present with Grace nursing, Haron and Leyian are staying in their house and Grace and Simaloi in the main house.  They are a very loving family--always smiling, singing and taking care not to interrupt me so I can study.  We had previously been having dinner at 9:30 after Mama returned home from delivering milk but that was sooooooo not working for me. Going to bed at 10pm on a full tummy does not make for a good sleep or bright mind in the am.  So we had a little chat yesterday and now dinner is at 8pm. After dinner is my bucket bath with hot water in a room the size of a broom closet.  I have become an expert at sudzing up and splashing off in 15 minutes!  Then its bedtime and Mama waits for me to turn out my light before she flips the main switch to turn off the power in the house. Every kilowatt counts.

This is the gate into my house.

This is Grace in the outdoor kitchen.

This is Leyian with his cousin Ashley.

This is Mama (white blouse) entertaining her gal pals after church.


We live on a large farm with cows, chickens, goats and sheep.They also have a german shepherd that has six 3 week old puppies.  Haron runs the farm and loves every second of it. Its a new experience waking up to the crowing cock and mooing cows.  If only that would happen at a decent hour instead of 4:30am.


It's cold here--around 40 at night and if we have a sunny day it will rise to 72. Im told July is the coldest month with rainy days. Guess those red dusty fields and roads will become quite a challenge.  Im sure to experience slipping and sliding in some cow pies in the weeks ahead.
Dinner is usually ugali (they dont make me eat it) with a steamed mix of spinach and cabbage called sukumawiki--literal translation stretch the week. Then there is a stew with beef, potatoes and bananas.  The amount of food they can eat at one sitting would make a sumo wrestler weep.  Thankfully they have let me serve my own plate.  If I did all the cow milking, corn plowing with an ox, goat milking and chicken shack cleaning they did in one day I would need all those carbs too.  And they are verrrrry skinny.  When I cooked I made spaghetti with all fresh ingredients and it was a hit.  I also introduced them to black pepper as their food is quite bland with only salt.  Now they want pepper on everything.  I also made fried chicken with mashed potatoes one night which they declared finger lickin.  I DID NOT watch them slaughter the chicken in the back yard.


We have had countless hours of health instruction running the gamut from STDs to the alcohol content of local booze (fatal if you drink the home brew) to dont pet the house animals.  As if we didnt get the message we are getting a round of rabies shots, malaria shots, flu vac, typhoid and deworming inspection next week.  That ought to be interesting.
A few asides worth mentioning: If you send me a package, dont write "food" on the customs label--it will never arrive. Neither will anything marked "computer items." Writing "Jesus loves you" all over the package deters thievery as most people are Christian here.  Every package WILL be opened before delivery so its best to mark the label as used clothing and put some old stuff in the box for good measure.

Tuesday June 28,2011 6:28 pm
I learned my first Kiswahili cuss word today.  Here's the back story.  We were in a culture class last week and the instructors were role playing various cultural oddities that we needed to be aware of.  One was a demonstration of how homeless street kids will attempt to rob you.  They dont use a weapon.  Instead they approach you with piles of shit in each hand and will demand money or a shit lashing.  I dont need to tell you how many people do not argue with this one.  If fact no one knows of anyone that didnt just throw down the shillings and high tail it.  I asked my language instructor for the the translation in class today since they had conducted their demo in english. Thus the word for the day is mafi.

Sunday July 3, 2011  4:43 pm
Returned a few hours ago from Outward Bound (the camp) where we sometimes have classes but this time it was for our overnight celebration of the 4th holiday.  We have class all day on the 4th. We have cabins which sleep 12 people each but the best thing about camp is having hot showers and real flush toilets.  The hot water just keeps running like at home and you can even shave your legs! Im holding off on doing that since I want to see if my hair will get long enough to braid.  We did manage to have baked chicken instead of Kenyan style stew and even had a huuuuuuge bonfire after dinner.  We had a couple of kegs sent down from Nairobi and since we had been alcohol deprived for 3 weeks, there were some serious hangovers this morning.  It was a nice bonding break.

I found out my assignment will be in Maralel which is waaaay north and I will be working with camels among other IGAs (income generating activities) with a US group called Pear Innovation.  They have numerous projects covering 150km from Maralel north.  Luckily they have a nice Land Rover to cover the territory so I wont have to slog in a matatu. I will be responsible for establishing business plans for each IGA and implementing the plans.  This is in the province of Samburu which has its own language.  I havent even got the full hang of Swahili and now will also have to learn Samburu.  You can imagine the choice words I have about that!!!! WTF.

To get ready for our projects at our new site, we are practicing here with local businesses that have requested assistance.  I have been working with a bee farmer who has been making honey for 15 years as a hobby and now wants it to be a real business.  I also spent time with a chicken co-op of 30 women that have 1000 chicken layers.  They have a nice business going for organic eggs and think they could make more money switching to broilers. I finished the cost analysis and will be telling them tomorrow to stick with the eggs.  Im constantly astounded how Kenyans can have so little and work so hard to make something with that little bit of something.  Most have truly slaved at trying to have a solid business and 99% have had their dreams and work dissolve by some corrupt person, system or organization.  But they get back up from that red dusty shamba and try again. 

This is the bee farmer in the middle and our instructor on the right.

The upcoming general elections in August are all the talk now since half of the ins will become outs.  Peace Corps has already been spreading the word that we will be evacuated at the first sign of violence.   They did this six years ago and have only been back in Kenya since 2008.  The timing would suck because it would be right at the end of our training when we would be heading off to our sites.  All is quiet for now.
Two big scandals that are in the news here are how the elected ministers (like senators) have now been forced to pay taxes on their income.  It was in the new constitution but not being enforced.  Now that its an election year, those who want to be reelected are paying up for the past 2 years owed and others are griping and saying they will go to the courts for final ruling.

The other scandal involves the embezzlement of $5 billion KS from the Kenyan education fund.  The education chief fled to London, was extradited back to Kenya but no action has yet been taken against him.
Everyday I see the cute kids walking to their schools.  They go six days a week for 10 hours a day.  Everyone has shaved heads and uniforms that indicate their school and grade.  They love shouting out "how are you" in perfect queen's english and accent.  They particularly like when you respond in Swahili "nipe tano" (gimme five). To think that the money that would have been used for their education has vanished is disgusting.

These are kids who cant afford the free education, ala school books and uniforms.
Check out the home made cars.  The wheels are assorted bottle caps with sticks for axles. Clever huh?

Sunday 24 July 2011 10:43 am
What is the color of Kenya? Is it the aubergine skin of the people in Mombassa? Perhaps the orange-brown hue of those living on the border with Tanzania?  Sometimes it almost seems the color of the ripe coffee beans that hang from the trees in the small groves nearby.  Then there are the colors of the lesos (tablecloth sized wrap skirts) that would rival the variety of colors of the butterflies wings.  So many hues of orange, red, blue and green.  Or maybe Kenya is the color of its soil?  Orange-red clay color of the inland areas of Marundu or the tawny brown of the Loitokitok region?  Or it could be the color of the trees--the massive graying baobabs that dot the landscape dying from drought, branches reaching to the heavens as if to beg for just a shower so they may live one more day. It's the night sky so bright with twinkling stars that one can walk without a light to guide the way.  Even in the desolation Kenya still wakens each day with a sense of hope.
The sounds of Kenya? The rooster that crows at 4:30am, cows lowing to be milked at 6am, goats and sheep bleating for a walk in the pasture, puppies whining for food as the day begins.  It is also the thrashing in unison of women beating a massive heap of bean stalks into mulch with long branches  to be sold at the market and singing familiar folk songs all the while.  It's the slap slap of wet clothes being dipped and redipped into plastic basins of water on the ground to rinse the remaining suds before hanging on the line to air dry.  It's the gentle hymn being sung as one washes the endless pile of dishes outside on the dirt floor that is considered a kitchen.  It's the joyful choirs and congregation singing in unsion to be heard across the village for hours on Sunday morning. It's the stillness of the night where you hear the corn swaying in a gentle breeze and an owl announcing the darkness. It's the sound of a peaceful spirit that praises each day as a new blessing to be cherished.
These are the colors and sounds of Kenya.


‎Sunday, ‎July ‎24, ‎2011 8:16pm
It's been a long day of study and dealing with a stomach bug.  I think it was the milk that had not been boiled before I used it in my coffee.  Everything ingested has to be thoroughly cooked, boiled and purified to prevent things like this.  My family is distressed that I am sick and I bet the milk will burn my tongue in the morning.
I wanted to bring you up to date on my last nine days on the road.  It was designed as a break of sorts and a chance to shadow an existing volunteer. The entire group headed to Taveta which is a border town of Tanzania. It was a harrowing four hour matatu ride on unpaved dusty roads.  It is large in comparison to my present location, bustling with a busy market of good brought on big semis from across the border.  It was interesting to see so many different fruits and meat varieties that are not available to me here.  Many more interesting shops with crazy names and I hope to post those pictures as well. We stayed in a comparatively nice hotel that had a real bathroom of sorts.  By that I mean there was a working (sometimes) toilet and a shower with hot water (sometimes). The "of sorts" part is that you could shave your legs, poo and shower all in the same 3x4 space.  You needed to plan the adventure or you would have to wipe down the shower water from the toilet before using it.  The food was tailored to the Americans so we thoroughly enjoyed our traditional fare of fried chicken, fresh veggies and tomato salad. It was a treat not to have everything cooked together stew-style that we have been used to.  They even had a pleasant patio bar that allowed us to have a few drinks after class each day.
This is the patio bar area
This is the selection of various beans in the market
Women selling fruit in the market
I have no idea what she sells
No clue what you can buy here either. It was never open.


While there we visited various projects that were started with help from other organizations: a fish farm that raised tilapia in 10x10 ponds, an HIV/AIDS agrofarm that housed, fed and provided for a group of infected people while raising farm products to sell.  We helped them plant banana trees, pineapple trees and an assortment of herbs.  We also visited the local hospital to tour a recently opened  Domestic Violence Clinic.  I imagine that the worst clinic in Appalachia looks like a university hospital in comparison.  They were very proud to finally have this clinic opened and staffed by volunteers that have received no educational degrees but only a six week course relating to trauma intake.  At least it provides a safe haven for women before they return to the same abusive situation.  After four days here we divided into small groups of 5-6 to hit the road to meet our volunteer for shadowing.

My group of five headed to meet Louis in Maungu.It was also a four hour, two matatu ride over the same dusty roadways.  Maungu is literally a truck stop for trucks travelling the route from Nairobi to Mombassa.  This truck stop is the sole income source for the town.  It is so drought stricken that there is no water in the town most of the time and it must be hauled in containers by donkeys from a town 10 miles away.


Louis is the quintessential volunteer.  He is also a minimalist and very cheap.  That is of note as you hear the rest of the story.  Louis met us at the matatu stop to show us to our hotel he had selected for us.  It was right in the center of the truck stop strip so we could watch all the action that befalls such places.  We went to inspect our rooms and were shown the first option.  It was a row of five separate rooms that contained a single bed and chair. You shared the outside toilet and a community shower. I walked around inside and then noticed there was no lock on the door.  Clearly these were "hourly" options.  Louis hadn't even noticed.  Plan B was a set of single self contained rooms which meant they had a separate toilet/shower and a locking door.  Easily two inches of cobwebs hung from the ceilings, mosquito nets were gray from the road dust and mold grew from every tile in the shower/bath.  There was no running water but we were told they would bring it for us to bucket bathe each night.  With no other known options we settled into our $4/nite lodging.  There was NO WAY I was going to sleep on those sheets so I eased my sleeping bag on top of them, stripped the blanket from the bed and it became the carpet for my room.  I prayed the spiders would not fall from their webs as I closed my eyes for the night.


The next morning we sat on the front patio of the hotel for breakfast of chai and eggs as the dusty town awoke with the truck drivers.  As the big rigs ambled down the roadway, they created a massive cloud of sand and grayish dust that covered everything--our table, eggs and chai.  We learned to deal with it as there was no other option. Before the day was out our hair, clothing and face were coated with a film of the road that had to be scrubbed away in the evening bucket bath.Louis took us on a tour of his tiny village and gave us the lay of the 10 mile dustbowl.
This is the truck stop town area.
This is where we stayed on the highway where the trucks blew us with dust.

We attended a meeting with the local minister (like a mayor) and he raved about how much help Louis had been in his community. Louis then wanted us to visit another group "Wildlife Works" that is a partnering group in his community.  He said it was a short walk.  Three miles later, sunburned and covered with dust we arrived at their site.  Boy are they living a fat life.  They have a compound that looks like something out of Swiss Family Robinson with a stunning mountaintop vista to eat, sleep and work.  They even have satellite tv and internet.  What else would you expect from a group from South Africa.  They are doing great things though and have been in Kenya for 10 years.  Their main project is developing a carbon credit program for forest areas in Kenya.  So far so good and the first payments to landowners and the community will occur this September.  It has taken them all this time to get the project up and running.  The main difficulty is convincing the landowners to practice conservation for a future payoff.  The drought has made farming very difficult so they have resorted to making charcoal from some of the larger trees in the forest--thus ravaging it.  Then there are the elephants that are always roaming in search of water and create their own havoc. With the first payoff hopefully the remaining farmers will join the crowd. In case you don't know about carbon credits, it's a way for companies that have polluted the environment to make nice by investing in projects that are eco-friendly.
Wildlife Works has also started some other very promising projects.  One is a small clothing factory that uses organically made cloth.  African designers send their designs to be fashioned from the organic fabrics.  Michelle Obama and Bono have been seen wearing some of the designs made here.  The factory just received a nice contract from Puma to make a Spring collection of casual wear so they are expanding the factory.  Another project is to make charcoal from brush instead of trees.  This project has just completed the test phase and now they are ready to gear up production to supply several local large hotels that cater to the safari tourists. They have also created several huge greenhouses that will grow herbs and small vegetables that do not require large amounts of water.  They have fashioned a drip irrigation system that makes use of every drop of the precious water.  These projects will hopefully replace the prostitute trade that is the main economy.

Ingenuity is everywhere.  The workers that are employed and live on the property had created a checkers game from wood.  The playing pieces were bottle caps.

As we hitched a ride back to town we were shown a new project growing jojoba bushes in various groves.  Apparently elephants don't like the smell of it and will detour areas where it grows.  They hope to plant them in the forest to keep the elephants out and steer them toward the man-made watering holes.  They will also harvest the oil from the bushes to sell to lotion factories.  Clever huh?

Back in town we were famished as Louis has no sense of time--just like a Kenyan.  It was 2:30 and he showed us to his favorite spot.  He refuses to pay for any meal that costs more than 50KS (that's 50 cents!)  It was the usual dumpy spot and the food was okay.  In all fairness, you can usually eat a pretty decent meal for about $2-3.  Next we were off for another short walk to supervise the ping pong team he had started.  4 miles later we were at the school and the kids whipped our butts.  They made it to the finals last year.  I refused to walk the 4 miles back so we flagged down a matatu and hopped aboard.  It was overcrowded as usual so one of our group hung on to the outside open door for the ride down the road.

We had previously scoped out a hoteli on a back street.  We noticed it because it was one of the very few green spaces with lovely landscaping and an enclosed compound.  We took our grimy selves there for dinner.  The owner was a Kenyan Somali (meaning his family was from Somalia but he was raised in Kenya) and a Muslim.  He regaled us with his tales of why Kenya is in such a sad state (we are all corrupt) and the desperation in finding water for his 2000 head of livestock.  He loves Peace Corps and Americans and soon began plying us with unlimited beer as his guests.  He was a genial host even if he seemed to be breeding mosquitos inside his dining room.  We actually put our feet up on our chairs so we could kill them before they bit and I used my lighter to torch them midair.  He laughed and said we were "sweet meat" for them and invited us to be his guest for dinner so he could kill his best lamb for us.  Of course we accepted. His wife prepared a feast for us that first night and it was clearly the best food we have eaten in this country.  Even though it wasn't served until 10pm we were sufficiently boozed up not to mind.

Back at the truck stop inn we had them heat some water for our bucket baths and tossed most of the night with the activity from the rent-by-the-hour rooms.  In the morning we all gave our nasty clothes to the chamber maid to wash for us.  A real bargain at 20 cents an item.  Louis arrived at 10am and we headed to the ministers office to help him with his reusable sanitary pad project.

The local teenage girls can not afford sanitary pads so when they have their period, they just stay home from school and some don't even bother to return to school at all.  We fashioned sanitary pads in the shape of the disposable ones made from sheets.  They have a pocket where we cut towel strips to be inserted.  They we sewed snaps so the side flaps could be closed around the lower part of the panty.  We made 60 of these so each girl could have two each.  They can then make extra ones on their own.  At least they had one to use and a spare.

When we had visited a women's HIV group sponsored by the local Catholic Church (yep, these are the women who work the truck stop) one woman had brought her toddler to the bead-making project.  This is an attempt to provide an alternative income by making necklaces and bracelets. The toddler was crawling around on the concrete floor with a huuuuuuge towel tucked inside his pants as a diaper.  So while making the sanitary pads I had the idea to make a reusable pamper.  So I used the same sheets but the bottom sheet with the elastic corners.  It was the same principle as before with a pocket to insert the towel strips and snaps on the side and in the crotch.  I only had time to make one but they were overjoyed at now having an option and a pattern to follow.  Boy are American babies spoiled!

After another bucket bath it was time to return to the local hoteli for the slaughtered lamb feast.  What a treat!  There was definitely grilled lamb cooked by the new chef the owner had hired followed by amazing fresh veggies and grilled beef.  It was some of the best food we had had so far.  Once again he plied us with booze and regaled us with stories of how he is looking for his third wife.  His other wives don't want any more children and he wants to have 18.  Of course he is Muslim and having four wives is actually a sign of prosperity.  He also told us how it is important to beat each wife to make sure she stays faithful and keeps a good house. We had a cross-cultural discussion about how that would not work in America and he said he was glad he didn't live there.  As we were leaving he gave us a beer for a nightcap and hugs all around.  He announced to the group that I would make a good fourth wife.  I cheerfully told him that wouldn't quite work for me because I didn't take too kindly to being beaten.

The next morning we decided to go rogue and head to Mombassa.  We got quasi approval from the powers above and negotiated a matatu ride at 7am.  It was a four hour ride along the paved roadway.  We did see some grazing elephants and giraffes enroute.  It was amazing to watch the dust become real earth and trees with leaves as we approached the coast.

Mombassa is New York City on steroids.  Everything is hyperactive.  The marketplace has a stall for every possible ware, fruit and vegetable.  The smells and cacophony were overwhelming compared to the quiet village life we were accustomed to.  Mombassa is equally Muslim and Christian so that was a new sight as well.

Our first mission was to find a hotel.  We headed to the place where the other volunteers were staying but it was full.  So Louis took us to where he usually stays.  You know where this story is going right?  I was nominated to go check out the room while everyone else stayed outside.  We were going to get two rooms for two people each and sneak the other two peeps in to share. That would mean three girls in a room and three guys in the other.  The first room we saw was on the third floor, up some really rickety stairs.  The guy opened the door for us to look inside and an overwhelming stench of mildew wafted up my nose.  I almost hurled on the spot.  Louis said "this looks good." It had two twin beds and a bathroom almost identical to the truck stop.  I shook my head "no" and headed down the steps.  We stopped at another room on the first floor (more expensive obviously) that had one double bed with the same kind of bathroom.  I shook a no to that one too.  I told Louis he may not mind sharing a double bed but the other dudes were not interested in a cuddle. When we were back on the street I gave the details to the others  and we trekked off to continue our search.  We went to Louis' Plan B hotel (meaning no other options so I have to pay more) and settled on two rooms with two twins each. Girls don't mind sharing but Louis agreed to sleep in his sleeping bag on the floor.
With that accomplished, we hit streets for more sights, sounds and smells.

  No time for real sightseeing since we really wanted to enjoy the warm weather at the beach.  When we got there the tide was still out but we were told it would be coming back soon.  It was amazing to see a waterless beach for almost half a mile!  Within the hour, sure enough the tide returned with warm lapping waves.  It was barely crowded and we ordered some lunch from one of the beach vendors and settled in the sand to watch the canoes and people having camel rides. Yep real camels on the beach pooping beside all the discarded trash from lunches unfinished and muslim women wading fully clothed in the tepid surf.


After a few hours of sun, we headed back to the hoteli for a shower and night out.  That cold shower was a shock so I went to the desk clerk to ask about some hot water.  She scrunched up her nose and brow and said "You want hot water? (like I was asking for snow!) We don't have any of that."  So that was a really quick real shower with cold water.
 
We split up for dinner to join other groups based on what we wanted for dinner.  I joined the seafood group and we headed back to the beach.  The matatu let us out about half a mile from the restaurant and we started hoofin it.  It was pitch black dark with no street lights.  The working girls were everywhere and cruising cars willing to pay for some action.  We had a lot of offers but quickened our pace.  It was a lovely seaside place with ocean patio and surprisingly detailed menu.  Most of us ordered the seafood platter which had mystery fish, octopus, squid, shrimp and mussels.  I swear they sent someone out to catch that shit because we waited three hours for it to show up on the table.  It was a notch above okay but a seafood treat nevertheless.

Back at our hotel, one of the girls in our group had gone with the pizza crowd. Bad decision.   She was in the toilet puking her guts out and spent the rest of the evening talking to Ralph on the big white phone.  To hear that all night was enough to make you want to hurl.  She was green for most of the 5 hour ride home.

So now it's back to our weekly routine of class, study, dust and schedules.  It won't be long till we are in Nairobi again getting ready to celebrate our freedom.  We are already making plans for some fun times before we all split to the wind.

‎Sunday, ‎August ‎07, ‎2011  8:53 pm
I PASSED SWAHILI!!!! It was a tough couple of weeks counting down to our exam this past Friday but I won't even mention how many hours I spent studying and now it's over. So 13 of us celebrated by going on a one day safari to Amboselli Game Preserve for the day on Saturday.  I had to get up at 5am and walk in the dark to meet Stacy for the walk to our matatu.  Boy is your depth perception off in pitch black.  Even though it was a path I had taken dozens of times over the past weeks, it is totally different in the dark.  Even with a head lamp trying to guide the dusty path, I felt like a drunk every time I stepped in a hole or a foot deep patch of the red dirt soft as confectioners sugar.  I usually trod through the forest and take the path by a church.  When I got to the church, the gate was padlocked.  I wasn't even going to go back the long way around.  I considered my options.  I could scale the gate (8 ft) or crawl through the barb wire fence.  I chose the barb wire fence and crawled along until I found a section someone else had used before and squeezed through.  If I was a fatso it would have been a no go.  I was dusty but unscathed and trekked on.  I was waiting on the corner of the dirt road for Stacy and it was so black I could not even see my hand in front of my face.  I heard someone coming near and decided to stand up in case I needed to haul ass in a hurry.  It was one of the local police with an M16 who rightfully wanted to know what I was doing.  I explained and he said he would walk me up the hill closer to her house.  I'm thinking, nice guy but not so fast.  The whole time he is asking me for money.  Karibu Kenya.  This was one instance when I was glad we had the Peace Corps line to throw back and it worked.

It took about an hour over unpaved, car eating potholes and we were there.  Our matatu hit one big bump and then there was a constant clunking that sounded ominous.  Inside the park we were treated to lions, elephants, giraffes, wildebeasts and zebras.  It was the first time ever I wish I had a fancy camera with a telephoto lens.  Most animals were close enough for my little Canon but lions like to snooze and stalk their prey.  Others in my group got some amazing shots.  Our driver said in the 10 years he has been coming to the park this was his first time seeing lions.

The weather turned nice and sunny and we stopped for lunch at a four star safari camp.  I was immediately homesick.  It was magnificent!  It was the Kenya of the movies.  Pool, cabanas, outdoor tables, fabulous plants, thatched roof huts and uniformed staff on a casting call for Out of Africa.  I wanted to check in and stay for a while.  It being the end of high season, it was full of safari-seeking Aussies and Germans,  We must have looked like a group of homeless people to them.  We had a good laugh as we joined them on the pool chaises in our scruffy, dirty sandals, long pants, hoodies and backpacks.  We reminded ourselves that they are the tourists and we actually LIVE here.



Visiting a Maasai Village in the park
These are the mud huts where they live.  They are built by the women and last up to 10 years.


Remember that ominous clunk?  While we were having lunch our driver headed off to get it looked at.  It seems his wheel had gotten bent in that pothole and had to be removed and replaced.  Two hours later he was back.  We were pissed to lose that drive time but it sure beats a breakdown in the dark.  We headed off for more viewing and ended up hauling ass back to town to arrive just as it got dark.  It was an awesome day!

Next week is our last here.  We will depart on Sunday for Nairobi for a few days of class before we are officially sworn in as "volunteers" on Thursday at a big ceremony at the American Ambassador's residence.  Then we will all disperse with our sponsors to various parts of Kenya.
We have placed our bets on who we will lose this week because they did not pass the language exam.  We are betting on four people so will see how it goes.

Tuesday 8/16.2011 8:25 pm
Well we lost three people last week.  Our bets were right.  We are now in Nairobi and tomorrow is our official swearing in ceremony with the Ambassador.  On Thursday morning we all depart.  It will take two days for me to arrive at my site in Maralel and fortunately my sponsor is here to take me and all my crap with her.  Im ready for the real work to begin.  She says the International Camel Derby is this weekend so I wont miss it after all. Should be exciting!