That's not an emergency!

It was dark out and Joyce called frantic “Call Kim! Anna is really sick, she’s unconscious!” Anna is Joyce’s incredibly adorable 16 month old daughter. “Ok. Ok. I’ll call him!”, I said and hung up. Kim is our taxi driver and is the nicest guy you will ever meet. He always makes sure we are safe and doesn’t let us get out of the car alone at night. “Kim, it’s Ashley. Can you come to Mary’s house and pick me up? Then we need to pick up Joyce and her daughter- she’s sick. Unconscious. We need to go into Gilgil to the hospital”, I said. “Ok ok let me come”, he said. Thank God he wasn’t in Naivasha. I wanted to go with because a) I wanted to pay for the taxi and any hospital costs because I knew Joyce couldn’t afford it and b) I wanted to be an advocate for Anna and Joyce. Us muzungus seem to garner more respect…I wanted to make sure the best was done for Anna. “I called Kim”, I told Joyce. “I’m coming with you.” “Alright, thank you Ashley!” She was still frantic. “Is Anna doing any better?” I asked. “No, she is still unconscious!” “She’s STILL unconscious?!” I said shocked. “Ok, Kim should be here soon. I told him it was urgent.” “Ok, thank you.”


Almost 20 minutes passed by and he still wasn’t here. I called him again and as soon as Kim picked up he said “I am about to be there”. I could hear the urgency in his voice. Thank God. Soon I could see his headlights cutting through the blackness and I rushed to the gate to get in the car. Vumilia is a short but bumpy ride away and in the dark it is almost impossible to know where you’re going. We arrived there and you could not see a damn thing. In my head I think I was expecting porch lights or something, even though I had been to the camp every day for the past 4 weeks and I knew they didn’t have porches let alone porch lights. It’s like I forgot where I was for a second. Can’t a girl get some street lights or something?! But with no electricity we were forced to drive around illuminating each tent with the car’s headlights. “Are we getting close to the water tank?” Kim asked. That would me we were at the front of the camp. “I don’t know. I can’t see anything. Let me call Joyce.” I said. What I really wanted to do was roll down my window and scream “Joyce! Joyce!”, but instead I called her on her cell phone (don’t ask me how she keeps it charged without electricity). “Stay there! I can see you!” she yelled, a little less frantic this time. Finally we would see her running towards us with Anna wrapped in a blanket, her limp feet dangling. Joyce, her husband, and Anna piled in the back seat and off we went. “How is she doing? Any better?” I asked. Joyce said, “Yes, she woke up but now she is asleep.” I looked back, but could barely see anything. “Asleep or unconscious?” I asked. “Asleep.” Joyce said, relieved. Thank God.


I called my mom thinking that maybe she could offer some insight from half a world away. “Mom, I’m fine but I am in a taxi on my way to the hospital with Joyce, the teacher from school, her husband and her daughter, Anna. Anna is 1 year 4 months and started screaming at home and then went unconscious for about 10 minutes. She woke up but is now asleep. What do you think?”

“Hmm is she breathing? Put your hand over her mouth and see if you can feel her breath.” she said.

“Ok (reaching back). Yeah I can feel her breath.”

“Ok. Good. Is her heart beating? Can you feel her pulse?”

“Joyce, can you feel her heart beat?”

“Yes, it’s fast.”

“Yes, it’s fast.” I relayed the information to my mom.

“Ok, good. Kids’ hearts beat fast.”

Shit, mine was beating fast. “Ok we are on the way to the hospital.”

“In a taxi?”

“Yeah, Mom, it’s not like at home. Unfortunately. You can’t just call an ambulance. I don’t even think there is anything like 9-1-1. Plus, ambulances are expensive. If she couldn’t call me she would have had to walk to the road, in the dark, and try to catch a matatu. Just pray that one was passing by and would stop.”


I lost reception with my mom, and took the opportunity to get more information from Joyce. “What else happened?” I asked her. “She started screaming. She was already asleep so I went in to check on her and she started shaking. I tried to breast feed her but she bit my breast. Then she took my hand and was trying to bite it. I could tell she was in pain. Then she stopped shaking and went unconscious.” “Sounds like a seizure.” I thought. I called my mom back and told her the new information and then said, “You think she had a seizure?”

“Yeah, that’s what it sounds like. As long as her heart is beating and she is breathing just let her alone. She should be fine. Are you almost at the hospital?”

“Yeah. I hope they can treat her here. If not she has to go to Nakuru and that is 40 minutes away.”

“Well, I would think with a sick child as young as her they would treat her.”

“You would think. What kind of tests do you think she needs? A CAT scan?”

“Yeah, I would think so.”

“Ok. Hopefully they do that there.” I had already been at this hospital with the other teacher, Rose, and her three young kids, Felix, Jane, and Agnes. Felix (5 yrs. old) and Rose both had chicken pox, Jane (3ish) had thrush in her mouth, and, thankfully, little Agnes (2ish) was fine. It is a small, government hospital made up of small buildings connected by covered walk ways. All the waiting areas were open air- there was a roof over your head but no walls. When I was there with Rose it was cold and rainy, just what you want when waiting with sick kids. Although, since it is a government hospital, kids 5 and under are free. I have a feeling a lot of the kids that go there are 5. ;) Knowing all of this, I wasn’t that optimistic for Anna’s treatment (I would never send my kid there), but was really hoping she wouldn’t need to go to Nakuru. Besides being 40 minutes away, driving in Kenya at night isn’t exactly safe.


We get to the hospital and I hang up with my mom and we go in. There isn’t really an emergency room, just a treatment room, so we went in there. We go back and lay Anna down on the gurney and this is the first time I saw her in the light. Her eyes are open and she is looking around. My heart stops beating so fast, I’m relieved. The doctor comes over and, without examining her, says smiling “This isn’t an emergency!” I just looked at him. I wanted to say, “What IS an emergency?! How do you know? You haven’t even assessed her yet!” But, I just said “even though she had a seizure at home and was unconscious she doesn’t need any tests?” He just looked at me as if he was thinking “Who ARE you anyway?” He simply sighed and said, “we are going to examine her”. The examination consisted of taking her temperature. That’s it. As the thermometer was under her arm the doctor snickered to the nurse, “See her temp is normal. This wasn’t an emergency.” After the normal temp he proclaimed “I think what we have here is a case of carbon monoxide poisoning. Are you IDP?”

“Yes” Joyce replied.

“Do you cook with charcoal inside your house?” he asked. (Everyone does here)

“Yes.”

I wanted to say “She just told you she is IDP which means she live in a tent with no electricity. Where do you think she cooks, out on the deck? Retard.”

“Well charcoal creates carbon monoxide which can kill very, very easily. You shouldn’t do that anymore. You are very lucky.”

Joyce just calmly said “Oh, ok, I didn’t know that.”

“Ok, there is no medicine required. She will be fine. The ride over here gave her oxygen and fresh air now she is fine. I thought it was going to be an emergency. This wasn’t an emergency. This (pointing to some hunched over woman) was an emergency.”

I wanted to say “Ok, douche, next time her 16 month old has a seizure and is unconscious for 10 minutes I’ll just tell her to stay home. How the hell was she supposed to know it was something as simple as carbon monoxide poisoning? And, you yourself said it can kill very easily. I would classify that as an emergency, jackass.” But, we just thanked him and left. Kim was waiting for us, and he took us home. Anna was soon back to her old self and was smiling in the car. I saw her this morning at school and she was playing around and enjoying herself.


Anna holds a special place in my heart. At first, she was afraid of me because I am a mzungu and would not go to me. So, I had to slowly build up her trust and our relationship. I am not used to that. Normally, babies come to me with no problem. I love babies. I could hold them and play with them for hours. Now I can hold her and we joke around. She is so adorable! Maybe she is so special to me because I had to work so hard to get close to her. She was worth it, and I am glad she is ok.
Kim told Joyce that if she waits until the charcoal turns red and is no longer smoking then she can take it in the house with no problem. So, that is what Joyce is going to do. Hopefully there will be no more problems. On the way home Joyce said, “Oh, thank you, Ashley you are a true friend. I don’t know what I would have done. I thought I was watching Anna die. Thank you.” “Oh, Joyce, it was no problem. You can call me anytime. Well, for the next week anyway. And after that you can still call me.”


This whole experience made me thankful for so many things we Americans (and other members of the first world) take for granted. We know that if something happens we can pick up the phone and dial 9-1-1 and someone will answer and stay with us until help arrives. We know that if someone we love is sick or hurt they can go to a hospital and get treated properly. We don’t have to cook with charcoal indoors that is reserved to barbeques. The list could go on and on. I am so thankful that everyone else in the house was awake and her Anna cry. I don’t want to even think about what would have happened if they weren’t.

Peace&Love,
Ashley

Happy Birthday!

Monday June 13th

Today was a great day! Joyce, the middle and top class teacher, has six kids and today was two of her daughters’ birthdays. Lydia and Margaret are not twins but were born on the same day 2 years a part. I first met them on Saturday during outreach weekend when the group stopped at Vumilia. I was asking them how old they are and they said that they’re birthday was coming up on Monday. Joyce is so sweet and generous and so are her daughters, and I knew I wanted to do something special for them on their birthday. I was thinking something along the lines of a cake and a small gift. When I got to the school this morning Joyce asked me if I was going in to Gilgil today because, if so, she wanted to tag along and get a cake for the girls. Perfect! We agreed to meet around 2pm. We arrived in Gilgil and I was hoping to find a nice, fresh cake for the girls. I really wanted to make it special. I had seen plenty in Nairobi, but apparently they don’t really exist in little ol’ Gilgil unless you order two days in advance. Where is a Giant when you need one?! I have grown so accustomed to being able to waltz into a grocery store at any hour of the day and buy a fresh, personalized cake. We had to settle for a packaged heart-shaped cake with hard icing, but it was pink and it said Happy Birthday (albeit upside down), so we got it. I was a little disappointed because I really wanted to get something nice for these girls and their family since they haven’t had a nice birthday in 4 years (before the election violence). I also picked up some nail polish, remover, and a pair of clip-on earrings for each of the girls (plus the aforementioned for Lydia and Margaret’s younger sister, Rachel, and a backpack with a soccer ball on it for big brother, Harrison). I didn’t want anyone to be left out, but oldest brother, James is at boarding school, and youngest sister, Anna, is only 1 year old and was content with a lollipop- the markets here don’t have much in the way of toys.

On the way back to Joyce’s tent/house she invited me to come in. I was a little surprised by this. I would have been totally happy with her pretending she bought the stuff for the kids as a surprise or telling them that it was from a friend. I didn’t do this for the “credit”, and that’s not why I’m writing about it either- I want to convey just how rough these families have it and how incredibly appreciative they are of the smallest kind acts. Shortly after arriving at Joyce’s the girls came home from school, and were very excited to see cakes waiting for them. Joyce encouraged them to invite some friends in and before I knew it we were having a full-fledged party. It was fabulous. We all squeezed in to the tiny living room (that doubles as the kids’ bedroom) and sat on the small wooden benches anchored into the dirt floor. Thankfully, it had rained so it was no longer hot, and we all sat around under the blue tarp ceiling and sang “Happy Birthday” to the girls. After that it was cake time, and apparently it is Kenyan tradition for the host, me, to feed a piece of the cake to the birthday girl(s). After that they fed a piece to me- I watched as each girl picked the best looking piece and fed it to me. Then the girls fed a piece to their parents and everyone clapped and cheered. Next everyone got a little piece and was offered some orange punch. All of the kids had to share eight cups because that is all Joyce has- one for each family member. No one minded, and everyone enjoyed themselves. Lastly I gave out the presents, and I have never seen three girls more delighted in my entire life! They giggled and squealed and put their hands up to their mouth in joy. My heart sang. Harrison was so happy to see his new backpack. I’m sure his classmates will be jealous tomorrow. J They spoke to their mom in Kikuyu and she translated saying that they were so happy- that they had never had such a nice birthday. That they loved me; their new best friend, and they hoped that God would bless me and guard my path. Joyce said that the entire family forgot that they were living in a tent. I am so thrilled that I could brighten their day and make them forget their circumstances, if only for one day.

Today has been my favorite day, and is one I will never forget.



Peace&Love

Ashley

Outreach Weekend (7/11 and 7/12)

Almost every weekend Fadhili hold outreach weekend where you get to experience a bunch of different programs in a couple days. I signed up to do outreach because I wanted to see a few different placements/programs besides my own. During the weekend I was taken to the KCC Slum, Hell’s Gate National Park (we all need a little fun, right?), Vumilia IDP Camp, and the Gioto Garbage Slum. On Friday we went to the KCC Slum (KCC stands for Kenyan Creamery Company) and got to see the school there. The school is an early childhood school just like the one I’m placed at, but the two schools are vastly different. KCC has been up and running for about 4 years, where as Vumilia has only had a school since September, so KCC is a lot more established. Don’t get me wrong, it is still small, and very much unlike any schools in the U.S. BUT, they are doing amazing things there! Unlike Vumilia, KCC has a separate classroom for baby, middle, and top classes…they also have a nursery for children age 2 and under. The classrooms are small with dirt floors and benches as seats and desk- much like Vumilia. At first the schools were taught strictly by volunteers, but as the years went on women from the slum were selected and trained, for free, to be teachers in the school. Now, volunteers are still placed there but assist the teachers as well as teach some lessons on their own. In addition to the classrooms there is also an amazing food program that has been established. The kids get a hot meal once a day (maybe they get ugi/porridge, too- I can’t remember)! This is a huge deal for these kids! For most of them that is their only meal for the day. When my group was there the kids had rice and beans and cabbage. There is a field right behind the school, and they buy their produce from there. The kitchen area is big, and there is room for two fires and a table for the cook to prepare everything. It was amazing to see fresh food being prepared. The kids absolutely loved it! A lot of the credit for the amazing things going on at KCC is goes to a volunteer named Marcus who has been in Kenya for a while now. He has been an integral part of the success at KCC and has help set up a website for the slum; www.kccslumproject.wordpress.com. They are going to be selling really cool t-shirts on the site soon that benefit the food program at the school. Marcus is doing his very best to make them self-sustainable, and he is really doing a fantastic job.

I really wish that there was a better food program at Vumilia; ugi isn’t enough for the kids there. Have I already explained what ugi is? Well, if not, it is flour, sugar, and water cooked together. I tried a tiny bit the other day and it tastes like a very bland cake batter…one you wouldn’t want to lick the bowl of after pouring it in the pans. But, the kids at Vumilia go nuts over it because it fills them up and is often the only “meal” they get all day. Some possible good news for Vumilia is that a government official was just at the camp the other day and he said that most of the people should be resettled within the next 2 weeks and the remaining families will be next. However, these people have been there since 2007, and the government is notoriously corrupt (just like most other “democracies” in Africa), so who knows if it’s true. But, I sincerely hope it is.

After seeing the school we saw the slum. About 7,000 people live in the slum and 700 are children. The slum is made up of tin and wood homes crammed together with mazes of paths leading through everything. The conditions are poor; trash is everywhere, dirty water lingers for days after the rain, kids are playing in the streets, and pit toilets are sporadically located throughout the camp. The children there are extremely friendly and were running up to all the mzungus and wanting to hold our hands. We first made our way to visit the women’s program. The program is made up of HIV positive women, and they all make jewelry out of magazine strips. The jewelry is their main source of income and it is beautiful. We sat in the room and watched a demonstration and learned more about the women. At the end we could buy things, and I decided to buy a gorgeous necklace and Cat and I bought a pair of earrings as a gift for each of our house mother’s granddaughters.

After the KCC slum we went to Hell’s Gate. It was absolutely stunning! I rode around in a van with the ceiling raised and was able to stand up and admire all of the beautiful scenery. Hell’s Gate is the place of inspiration for The Lion King and the Tomb Raider movies. From The Lion King, pride rock is there, but unfortunately it doesn’t really look like it did in the movie anymore. There was an earthquake and the part that juts out fell to the ground. There were zebras, giraffes, warthogs, meer cats, gazelles, and other animals roaming throughout the park. In Swahili, warthog is “pumba” and meer cat is “timon”, so you can see where Disney got the names from for the movie. Also, samba= lion and rafiki= friend. Interesting. I like that they used some of the Kenyan culture in the movie. After driving around for a while we hiked down into a gorge and walked through there for a couple hours. Getting down into and up out of the gorge was intense. Although, getting in was easier than getting out. To get out you had to climb up a very steep hill/cliff side and it was very scary for me. I didn’t think I was going to make it because I am intensely afraid of falling, and falling was a very real possibility. It was SO high!! But, with the help of Chomlee and Alex I made it up. Thank God.

On Saturday the group went to Vumilia, so Cat and I were able to show some people around and answer some questions. We all gave out flour and cooking fat to all of the families. After Vumilia we went to the Gioto Garbage Slum. I was very much looking forward to going there since before I left. I won’t get into great detail about the camp right now…all the info about the slum can be found at www.garbageslum.org. Basically thousands of people are living on top of a garbage dump; they make their homes, wear clothes/shoes, and eat all from the garbage. It is a very desperate situation for everyone there and rape, drugs, malnutrition, and HIV/AIDS are rampant. It is a very sad situation and there is a lot that needs to be done there. Fortunately, a volunteer named Ross is doing A LOT for these people. He is the one who started the website and has helped, along with other volunteers, get 40 children sponsored for boarding school. Like the KCC Slum, there is women’s program and the women make jewelry and purses. Ross should be saluted for the wonderful work he is doing there…it is truly inspiring. We gave out flour and cooking fat there as well. We couldn’t stay too long because it was about to rain, and it is impossible to drive out of the slum once all of the garbage is wet. Ross told us that the sludge is so deep you can barely walk let alone drive. The “road” you drive on is basically crushed, compressed garbage so you can imagine how that would be once wet. The kids, mostly bare foot, walk around on the garbage and broken glass is absolutely everywhere. My heart was breaking for those people, especially the kids. Maybe one day Anthony and I can sponsor one of them. All kids deserve a great education, and it is simply impossible to get that when living amongst garbage. I have limited computer time, so please check out the website for pictures.

I am sure I will have more thoughts/posts on all of this later...right now I'm just concentrating on getting everything written down. Thanks for reading! <3

Peace&Love

Ashley

Warm Coke, Cold Beer

Saturday June 4-Sunday June 5 2011

Every weekend Fadhili runs an outreach weekend which gives volunteers placed all over to get together and travel to a few different slums/camps together. A visit to Hell’s Gate National Park is also included in the weekend for relaxation. Well, one of the camps that is visited is Vumillia, and we got to see all of them on Saturday. It was nice to see everyone again…some of them I had stayed at Pastor Regina’s house with. We were all comparing our experience with our jobs and home stay. One girl was all like “I lucked out…I’m staying at Miss Lydia’s and we have hot showers and everything”. Bitch. I say that only kinda serious, because although it’s hard living where we are, it is still a great experience. One I should be grateful for. It’s just tough to be grateful when you’re squatting over a whole. But, this is definitely an authentic experience that I will never forget. And, it’ll be something I can guilt my kids with when they are complaining about nothing. It’ll go something like this, “Oh you don’t want to clean that toilet? Too bad. Just be grateful you have a toilet to clean! Why don’t we just fly over to Kenya and you can see where they go to the bathroom. Then I bet you’d be happy to clean this toilet”.

After the being with everyone at outreach Cat, Nicole, and I took a taxi in to Gilgil and booked a night at a little hotel to get away for a little (hot showers, anyone?). Our hotel rooms were only 700 shillings a night- you can’t beat that. After checking in we went down to check out a market we had heard about. Being in Gilgil is definitely an experience. It is a little town made up of mostly working class people and the streets are always busy with bikes, cars, matatus, and motor bikes. Also, people are selling things everywhere. I feel like we get stared at a lot more here than we did in Nairobi. It’s a really odd sensation to be walking down the street and know that EVERYONE is looking at you. It’s hard to describe the different looks you get; some of the kids look at you like they want something from you, other kids look at you like “wow there’s a white person” and they giggle with their friends when you say hi. Most adults give friendly looks, and some guys give creepy looks. It’s hard to know how to respond. Should you wave and say hi to those you pass? I sometimes wonder if the adults feel like we are patronizing them….like do we think we are special or something and they should be happy we are waving/saying hi to them? I don’t know…I don’t know how to explain it.

After the market we went back to the hotel and went to the bar. Nothing, including water, there was cold except alcohol so I ended up having a warm coke in a glass bottle. Blegh. The three of us hung out there for a while and then had dinner in the restaurant downstairs. It was SO good! We got a couple orders of chips (fries) masala and they were scrumptious! Good, fresh fries with masala sauce on top. Mmm. Then I got chicken masala and a samosa. Samosas are kind of like Kenyan empanadas…really good. And they are only 30 shillings or 50 cents. I am definitely going to get more of those next time! Sunday morning we found an internet café and spent around an hour there. It was nice to be able to connect with people again. Even though it had only been a week since arriving it had felt like much longer. I did so much and saw so many things in Nairobi, and then the journey to Gilgil…it seemed impossible that it could all fit in a week. Saturday Nicole looked at me and said, “I could go for a pizza right now”. My response; “I could go for a hot fudge sundae”. I have a feeling that in a few weeks when I’m back home I’m going to be saying “Mmm I could go for some samosas right now”. I’m going to miss this place.

Volunteer Day

[Note: Ashley's internet connection, as you might imagine, is spotty at best and non-existent at worse. Posting pictures and blog posts can take considerable time with her internet connection, or it may just time-out and not upload at all. She is able to get a few emails off to me and she includes blog posts from her daily journal of the trip, so that is why the date posted and the actual date of the recording are different. I will post them as I get them. Enjoy! -Anthony]

Friday June 3 2011

Today we got to help teach, and it was a great experience. Joyce and Rose do their best and the kids seem to be learning a lot. Joyce teaches the middle and top class and she showed us the kids’ workbooks. They are mostly learning English and Math, I assume it’s the basics that they need to get into primary school. The school day is only from about 8-12, and the children get one break during that time. I haven’t been there that long, but the schedule seems to be; opening songs, math or English lesson, break, Ugi (flour and sugar porridge), story, home. It doesn’t seem like a long day, but I think the day ends around noon because it would get too hot in the afternoon. Also, I am sure it is hard to have in depth lessons with such limited resources. And, you have to remember, this is basically just up to kindergarten. After that they start year one at primary school. And the fact that it is multiple age groups doesn’t help either. Despite all of these difficulties the kids are eager to learn and most seem to be picking up on everything. The children are very eager to show you their work. They want to show the white teacher, and they will even write extra work to impress you. Elijah, a boy in the top class, is very smart and kept adding math problems to the bottom of his English work to show how smart he is. Very cute! Even though they can’t understand you they still look for sign of approval and can tell when they’ve impressed you. I started drawing smiley faces on their work after I correct it and the first couple kids I did it to eagerly showed off their “prize” to all the other kids. They talk to each other in Kikuyu (they don’t speak Swahili but rather their tribe’s mother tongue- which makes it even more difficult to talk to them) and point to it with big smiles on their faces. It’s amazing how appreciative they are of the littlest things; smiles, high fives, handshakes, etc… That’s another thing, they all want to shake your hand or give you a high five. All. The. Time. Also, during recess the children come up to you and just pet your arms or legs. They love my tattoo. One girl kept trying to scratch it off. Haha. They also put their hands around my arms as if to measure them. And they love to play with mzunga hair, which is unfortunate since mine is almost always dirty.

Even if you shower in the morning you feel so dirty by the end of the day because everything is so dusty. I wiped my face with a face wash wipe and it was all brown. Eww. When I put sunscreen on (which is like a million times a day) I feel like I am just rubbing dirt around. How pleasant. And, it’s impractical to shower daily because the shower isn’t really a shower but a bucket bath. And you take it in a tin shack that shares a tin wall with the pit toilet. Plus it’s dark and there are spider webs. Oh, and the water is only hot if Mary boils it for you first. Not exactly the best, but it will do. When I go on safari in a couple weeks we will be staying in an actual hotel with actual showers and actual toilets! I can’t wait. It’s amazing how appreciative I’ve become of the smallest things/conveniences that we take for granted and I’ve only been here for a few days. I can’t imagine how I’m going to feel at the end of this.

Interesting things...

First of all, I'm keeping a list of interesting things in Kenya. So, I'll post that first and then move on to this past Thursday. I am so behind with everything...I wish I could go online more often. But, I have been typing things up on my computer every night so I can simply copy and paste from Word when I get to the internet cafe. Maybe I'll e-mail my other posts to Anthony and he can post them for me. Stay tuned.

Interesting things in Kenya;

1) The toilets don’t have seats or lids just the bowl

2) You don’t call the toilet the bathroom or the restroom. Just the toilet…I’m going to the toilet. I asked the teacher at the school if those were the bathrooms and she looked at me like I was crazy- as if to say “why would the children bathe at school?!”.

3) Almost nothing to drink in restaurants (atleast in Gilgil) is cold except for liquor or beer. Warm coke, water, everything. Yuck. No ice is available either, well not that’s made with filtered water.

4) Spanish soap operas are incredibly popular here. They are dubbed in English not Swahili, and the voice-over actors don’t have Spanish accents. It is so weird to watch. There is something I can’t figure out, though- how can Mary and her friends/family watch and understand them, but they can’t understand us? Bizarre.

5) All of the commercials, advertisements, and billboards are in English. Some have Swahili under or next to the English but most don’t. Yet it seems like most people don’t understand a lot of English. I’m not sure what to make of that. And the advertisements aren’t just for American products they are for Kenyan and international companies, too. Huh.

6) Milk for cereal is served warm.

7) The news casters and reporters speak English, but any interviews done that involve people that speak Swahili are not translated into English. It’s kinda frustrating to watch the news and only understand half the story. Also, how do the Swahili-speakers understand the English?

8) There are almost no traffic lights or signs anywhere. The only place I have seen traffic lights are in center city Nairobi, and even then no one obeys them. I have only seen maybe 3 stop signs. And this isn’t because there are hardly any cars because the roads are full of them. Needless to say, people drive quite crazy.

9) Despite the crazy driving you almost never hear a horn beep unless it is someone beeping to say hi to someone else.

Thursday

Sorry, I feel like my last post was rushed, rambling, and confusing. I’m going to take my time with this one.

I found out that I am going to be placed in the Vumilia IDP (internally displaced peoples) camp in Gilgil. The people living here first arrived after the post-election violence in 2007. So, it’s been quite a while that they have been living away from their homes. We (me, Cat from Colorado and Nicole from Nebraska by way of Germany and England) arrived in Gilgil on Thursday and after meeting our house mother, Mary, and our other coordinator, Phyllis, and getting semi-settled in we were taken around the camp by Phyllis. Mary’s house is about a 10-15 mins walk from the actual camp. She’s technically a resident of the camp, too, but she lives in a nicer, more permanent house rather than a tent like everyone else. I’m not sure why. Maybe she had more money when she first fled here and was able to set up something more permanent? Next to her are other camp residents that are in similar tin homes. The Vumilia, which means patience and endurance in Swahili, camp is split into two parts; a lower camp and an upper one. The upper one is across from Mary’s house and to the left. The lower one is a 10-15 min walk behind her house and that is where the school is that we are teaching at. There is also another camp that is split into two parts as well, but I am not sure what it is called or why/how the people got there. It’s very hard for me to adequately explain it without pictures. We are situated in a valley and there are beautiful mountains and hills all around us. The terrain is rugged and dry, but the soil is very fertile and almost everyone grows something; corn, potatoes, tomatoes, spinach, cabbage, etc… Mary grows some vegetables and has some goats. I’m not sure if we drink their milk…I’m too afraid to ask. Haha. I haven’t gotten even the slightest bit sick yet, knock on wood, so it seems like everything is fine.

Phyllis came to Mary’s house with her son, Anthony (what a wonderful name!), on her back. He is 4.5 months old and is absolutely adorable! All the women carry their small children around on their backs. It is really beautiful to see. All the babies seem so happy, warm, and loved. As we got close to the camp I could better see what exactly the peoples’ homes looked like. I knew they were tents, but since they’ve been here for 4 years I wasn’t sure how they’d look. It seems as though everyone has tried to make the tents more permanent by adding wooden frames. Most homes also have some sort of fence around them with crops planted inside. As for bathrooms, there are what look like port-a-potties every few homes. A couple homes have their own and it is locked. Although they look like port-a-potties, I doubt they function like them because I’m guessing no one is coming to empty them all the way down in the valley. My guess is that it is just a pit toilet- like the one Mary has.

When Phyllis showed us around on Thursday we weren’t really able to see the school because another organization was preforming a medical camp and was using the classrooms as examining rooms. But, we were able to meet the teachers; Rose and Joyce, and the cook; Lucy. All three are very nice and were very happy to see us. Of course, we also met the kids, and they were incredibly excited to see 3 mzungas walking around. I brought my camera, and the kids starting running over saying “pickcha, pickcha” and posing/making faces. I took A LOT of pictures, and the kids loved seeing themselves on the screen. I knew my camera would be an object of fascination, but I wasn’t prepared for my watch to be. Every kid that came over to me was fascinated by it and wanted to press all the buttons. In some cases, it is hard to tell if the small children are boys or girls. Most young children have their heads shaved and are wearing clothes/colors of the opposite sex. So, it can get confusing sometimes. The kids are dressed in what look like donated clothes, most of which are tattered. Some don’t have shoes, and those that do wear holey ones. Almost all the kids have constantly snotty noses and sticky hands. But, they are so sweet, cute, and endearing that it is impossible not to fall in love with all of them. Some of the older kids know pretty decent English and they love to talk to you. The school is basically two rooms made of a wooden frame and covered in tin sheets. The floors are dirt and there are no real desks, instead the children sit on small benches with a high bench in front of them that is used as a desk. Each classroom has a small chalk board (with one eraser between them) and a desk for the teacher. One of the rooms is for the baby class and the other is for the middle and top class. I think top class only goes up to age 7 or 8; after that the (lucky) kids go to primary school for year one.


The school- the building on the left is the storage closet and where the cook, Lucy, cooks ugi and rice and beans for the kids. The painted building on the right is the baby classroom and there is another room attached to the right of it that is the top and middle classroom (you just can't see it in this pic).


After meeting everyone and playing with the kids for a while we went back to Mary’s. We got settled in our room, unpacked as best we could, and then went into town for some water and junk food. You know the necessities. Mary cooked us dinner, and I can’t remember what it was, but I remember it was good. Mary cooks all of our meals for us and she is a great cook. Everything is fresh and tasty. That night I didn’t sleep that great, I kept waking up to scratching noises. I thought maybe it was the dog (it sounded like he was on the roof at one point) or maybe the chain outside the window. The next morning I noticed there was a door leading into a room next to our room and I thought maybe it was the shower. So, I asked Mary and she said “that’s where I keep the goats”. I guess that’s what the scratching was.

Peace&Love
Ash

First week....

This is VERY long since I haven't been online in a week. Fair warning! haha. You all know how much I talk...just imagine a week's worth. Just sayin'. :)

I don’t even know where to begin….so much has happened in the last week or so. Finding internet has been tricky to say the least. Well, affordable internet anyway. My placement is, let's say, secluded (more on that later), and I rented an internet modem stick thing (you like me tech speak?), but it didn't get reception in the valley I'm in. So, now I'm in an internet cafe in Gilgil- about a 5 min taxi ride from our "house". Let me catch you up on the past week....

First things first, my flights were fine. Actually, the first one was pretty sucky. It was from JFK to Zurich and it was jam-packed! Why did I leave on Memorial Day weekend, again?! Anyway, other than being packed, I was one of the only people that spoke English, so telling the rude German fellow in front of me to kindly move his seat up so I could actually put my tray table down to eat was a bit difficult. And somebody else must have been having some drama too because I heard a French (?) woman a couple rows in front of me arguing with some other woman of unknown heritage…all I could make out was “shut up” and then the flight attendant came over. Needless to say I did not sleep at all that first flight. Oh, and the guy next to me was Danish so, I couldn’t even talk his ear off about my impending trip. Bummer. My next (and thankfully last) flight was A LOT better. The flight from Zurich to Nairobi wasn’t full (I wonder why) and I was able to get a window seat all to myself. No one next to me or anything! The only down side was that the middle arm rest didn’t go all the way up so I couldn’t really lay or put my feet up or anything. Oh well, it was still nice. AND we got ice cream on that flight. Bonus!

After landing and (finally) making my way through the whole visa process I proceeded down to baggage claim and was pleased to find that my huge bag had, in fact, made it all the way to Kenya. Yay! Next I went out to the front to find my ride. Well, out of a sea of signs I didn’t find my name anywhere. I tried not to panic, but it was HARD- especially after almost a day of flying and not really sleeping. I waited for about 15 mins and then panicked. Haha. I started to tear up (big surprise), but then decided that I was NOT going to be the little white girl crying in the African airport with Kenyans staring at me. So I pulled it together and called Anthony for Fadhilli’s (the org. I'm volunteering through) contact info and he promptly sent it to me. Thank. God. I finally got a hold of Joe and he said my driver, Chomlee, had just parked. Whew. Chomlee took me to Nakamutt (basically Kenyan Wal-Mart with wedding dresses), and I was able to get a phone and some water. Next, I was dropped off at my temporary homestay-Pastor Regina’s house and was relieved to find that a bottom bunk was free for the taking. There was a bunch of other volunteers there and everyone was soo friendly! Plus, Regina has 4 kids, two of which are little girls, so I was in heaven- handing out tootsie rolls and practicing the only Swahili word I knew, jambo or hello. Regina’s house is nice, although I must admit that the drive there is kinda scary-looking and when we pulled up I thought there was some sort of mistake, or maybe that Chomlee was a Fadhili imposter and he was driving me down this muddy, shack-lined alley to rape/kill me and dispose of my body. But, I was happy (and relieved) to find a nice, American-looking house behind a gate. Although, the shower was anything but American- the shower head, toilet, and sink are all basically in the same room, the shower only spit out freezing water, and there is no drain so after your shower you had to squeegee (sp?) the water into a hole in the wall. Fun times. But, in all seriousness, it really wasn’t that bad. At least the toilet flushed, even if it did take some maneuvering, which is more than I can say for the place I am staying in now.

At Regina’s I met some other volunteers and hung out with them for a couple of days before orientation. Alex and Ailed (pronounced eye-lith) are an engaged couple from Mexico who are doing the Massai teaching program, and Justin is from Canada doing the HIV/AIDS program for 6 months. Alex and Ailed had been there for a couple of days so they led Justin and I around on Monday. The first order of business was to walk down to the Junction, which is a mall, and get a matatu (van/bus) from there for the Giraffe Sanctuary. Well, as soon as we left Regina’s gate everyone was busy looking and pointing at the mzungas (white people). We were approached by a (high?) man who continued to walk beside us even though we ignored him. He kept looking at me and saying “Ooooh big mashekas” which I am guessing means “Oooh big boobs/tits” based on where he was looking. Welcome to Kenya! He eventually lost interest and we pressed on. After about a 15 minute walk we reached the Junction and our first matatu. It was pretty full so I had to sit in the front, and this is where I received the second marriage proposal (and, sadly, not the last) of my life. The driver, along with his friends that had gathered to look at the blonde-haired mzunga started asking me about where I am from and what not, it went something like this;

Him- Hello! (shakes my hand) How are you?

Me- I’m fine, how are you?

Him- I’m fiiiiine. Where you from?

Me- (Smiling) America

Him- What state?

Me- Pennsylvania

Him- (looking me up and down) Ooooh. You married?

Me- (laughing) Yes

Him- Oooh he here?

Me- No, he’s in America.

Him- Oooooh me be your Kenyan husband?! (wink wink)

Me- Oh, I don’t think my husband would like that very much. (laughing)

Him- Oh, well in Kenya we can have 5 wives. I wish I was your husband. He lucky. You my type. You want to come over my house and meet my family and have a BBQ?

Me- (Smiling) No thanks. (Laughing).

Then he just continued to talk to me until we had to get off and catch another matatu to the sanctuary. I basically paid 30 shillings (50ish cents) to be hit on. Haha. Second matatu= no marriage proposal- thank goodness. But, the matatus are funny. If your stop is not exactly on their route they let you off close and then you have to walk. Well, we had to walk for a mile or so to the sanctuary (in the heat). But it was so totally worth it!

The giraffe sanctuary was AMAZING!! For only about 800 shillings (10ish dollars- it’s like 82-86 shillings to a dollar) you got to hand feed, pet, and kiss giraffes. It was SO MUCH fun! There was one baby giraffe and one was pregnant (there are 5ish females and one male- you do the math). They were all so cute and loved being fed. You could put a piece of food in between your lips and the giraffe would “kiss” you to get it. What an experience! We had a blast. After that, we grabbed another matatu to the Karen Blixen (?) museum. She wrote Out of Africa and the movie was filmed at her house. I don’t have any pictures of the inside because you weren’t allowed to take pictures. What? But, you could take a Coke in a glass bottle inside. For 800 shillings I should be able to take pictures, but oh well. It was a beautiful house and the grounds were even more gorgeous. There were workers cleaning up after a wedding on site…it must have been a beautiful affair. The couple certainly had a beautiful day and beautiful surroundings for it.

After that it was time to head home, which meant more walking and two more matatu rides. It was a really, great day, though. J A delicious dinner was waiting for us- we had seasoned rice and some sort of tomato, onion, and herb mixture. Mmm! Pastor Regina has a nice-size living room with plenty of seating and a modern, flat screen TV. Us volunteers all sat around and watched a movie after dinner. It was very nice, and much more than I expected.

The next day we went to he Masai Market in center city Nairobi which was about a 40 min bus ride. A bus this time, not a Matatu. Confusing I know, but a bus is a bus and a matatu is a van. The bus ride was long and smelly (I don't think Dove and Secret do much business here). But, it was very interesting to see all different kinds of Kenyans in one place. Since we left early in the morning we could see everyone on their way to work. I saw people in suits, traditional African dress, and ladies dressed very western in nice jeans, tops, high heels, and with western style haircuts. Most women and girls here either shave their head or braid it for practical and hygeine reasons, so it was nice to see how the more "cosmopolitan" women dressed. After the bus ride and a long, long walk through the city we reached the market. It's kinda like a flea market- everyone is set up on the ground with their goods on tarps. The merchants and brokers saw us mzungas coming a mile a way and as soon as we approached the six of us were literally swarmed by men called brokers. They basically take you around and try to get you to buy things from the various shops. Then once you've decided on what you want or what you might want they put it in a bag and you make your final decisions at the end. Well, I picked out some nice things and was finally ready to check out. Well, my broker, Izo, laid all my stuff out on the ground and I picked what I wanted. After selecting, he explained how the bartering works; "I write my price, you write your price". Guess what his starting price was?! 125,000 shillings! Holy Shit! That's like $1,300! Yeah right, Izo, nice try. I know I come from the land of Obama but I don't have his money. Sorry. I wish. I eventually got him down to 7,000 shillings which is still a lot, but I got a bunch of really nice, cool hand-made items. Lots are gifts for people back home. So I was happy about that. : )

This is where my 2nd Kenyan marriage proposal came in. Izo was quite smitten with me, and was constantly hitting on me the whole time. "Oh you American? You pretty. You my type. You married? Where is your husband? Oh, in America?! Me be your Kenyan husband....we can have 5 wives here. Tomorrow is our national holiday and my family is having a BBQ, you want to come? Here is my number. Your husband sure is lucky! You come over tomorrow." etc etc... Then as I was leaving he wanted MY number. Yeah right. I told him I didn't know it, which wasn't a total lie...I hadn't memorized my new one yet. He said "you making my heart beat fast and fast." After I finally got out of there and was with everyone else I got my phone out to call Ailed and literally as soon as the phone left my pocket he came up and asked for my number again! Of course I didn't give it to him and he walked across the street. The last time I looked across the street he was blowing kisses at me. Jenga (Regina's son who was showing us around) said "boy he really likes you, huh?" I guess so. Maybe I should have died my hair and gotten a breast reduction before leaving. Sheesh.

After that we went to the national museum and then came home. Dinner was good again that night and I slept well. Wednesday was orientation and I found out that I'd be placed in an IDP (Internally Displaced Peoples) camp called Vumilia in Gilgil- about 2 hours from Nairobi. Since it is 2 hours away we (there are 2 girls, Nicole and Cat, with me) didn't leave until Thursday. So we were put up for one night at the Covenant House which was VERY nice compared to where we were. There were HOT showers and everything! It was so nice. Well, it was a good thing we got one last hot shower because out new house definitely does not. We arrived at the camp on Thursday and found we are living in a tin house. It has a wooded structure with tin and canvas around it. There is electricity, though. So that's great. The bathroom is literally a tin box with a cement floor and a hole in the ground. That should be interesting. haha. The shower isn't a shower, but a bucket bath next to the "bathroom". I haven't taken one yet (we stayed in a hotel in town last night and got a hot shower this morning). Peeing in a hole is not fun, but I think it will get better/easier.

I will got more in depth later about my homestay, the food, the school I'm at, and the beautiful scenery later. Posting pictures here takes way too long, but you can check them out on my google site. I'll post it here.

All in all I am having a GREAT time, Cat and Nicole are super nice and we get along. I miss home and Anthony, though, and am sure I'll be happy to be back in the States. Thanks for reading this ridiculously long, rambling post. The rest will be shorter, I promise. :)

Peace&Love

Ash

Donations and vaccinations and stereotypes oh my!

Over the past few months I have come to discover just how generous my friends, family, and complete strangers are. :) I am so grateful to be surrounded by such fabulous people! I sent out a letter to friends and family asking for monetary donations to assist with the cost associated with my trip as well as to buy donations for the children I'll be teaching. And, I am so pleased to say that I received A LOT of generous donations. :D I also asked the members of my folk group at church for some material donations (crayons, school supplies, coloring books, etc...), and was again blessed with generosity! One woman in the folk group has a child in 3rd grade and offered to ask her son's teacher if they would consider collecting items for me. I was so touched and excited when she told me that, but when she didn't mention anything to me about it for a couple of months I didn't think anything of it. I just figured it wasn't going to work out, and I was totally cool with that. Well, surprise surprise, she told me last week that his teacher had, in fact, collected some items. "Some items" is a massive understatement! I received half a dozen soccer balls, color wonder paper, markers, and paints, coloring books, notebooks, pens, pencils, and a box filled with watercolors, crayons, and markers. I can not even begin to express how grateful and appreciative I am! I got the name of the teacher at St. Ignatius that so generously made this cause her class' service project, and am planning on sending a thank you card and offer to come into the school next (school) year and show the kids pictures of the Kenyan kids they helped. Hopefully that will work out. I think the kids would really enjoy that!


My only "problem" with all this generosity is that now I think I have too much. Too much? I never thought I would say that. But, I am. I most definitely have too many things to bring with me. I bought an enormous suitcase that comes in a whopping 1 inch under the size guidelines imposed by Swiss Air and I already have the bottom almost filled with donations. I have come up with three options; 1) buy another suitcase and cough up the money for the excess baggage fee, 2) ship the stuff, and 3) take some of the donations and give them to local needy kids. Other than the extra fee, option 1 also presents another problem- I am going to Kenya alone, and am already bringing a (huge) suitcase, a carry-on, and a messenger bag/purse. I don't see how I am going to carry everything much less store it all in my home stay. I feel like what I am already taking is pushing it. Issues with shipping the stuff are; a) the cost and b) I have absolutely no idea where to ship the stuff to or how I would retrieve the things once there. And, so, I'm leaning towards donating the things I can't fit to local kids. But, I'm torn about that, too. I asked for donations for the needy kids in Kenya not the needy kids in Reading. Although, God knows they need the stuff, too. Am I somehow doing wrong by the donors? Am I being dishonest, or is it ok to give it to other needy kids? Hmm I think I'm going to have to think about this one for a little while.


Something else I am struggling with is something that was brought to my attention via a Facebook discussion on IVHQ's FB page. One girl asked a question about what things to bring for the children. And, another girl (that has already been to Kenya) answered by giving a couple of good ideas (stickers, crayons, etc...), but also cautioning to not give too many things as to not give into western stereotypes for example, "they think Americans are made of money and have tons of things to just give away". Of course, I already knew that I would be perceived as a "rich American", that is why I am not planning on wearing my wedding rings or other jewelry. I know it's impossible for me to completely blend in, especially with the blond hair and all. But, I never thought about "western stereotypes" in regard to my donations and the amount I am bringing. I certainly don't want to come across as some rich American that thinks she can change these kids' lives with a few stickers and packs of markers. I want to be generous and give the kids great things- things they need as well as fun things- without worrying about "rubbing in" my perceived wealth. But, aren't I going to come across as a rich American no matter what? Probably. So, now I guess I need to strike some sort of happy medium and really make sure I check with the appropriate people (i.e. teachers) before giving stuff out. Which is going to be really hard. I tend to treat every kid as though they were my own. If I have an ice cream cone, I share it. If I have a bag of chips, I share it. I can't help but share my treats with kids, and those are American kids with homes and parents and a school to go to free of charge. This is going to be tough.

I completed one of the last steps before going leaving- I got all my shots. It was surprisingly pain-free (except for yellow fever, that one hurt A LOT). I went to a travel immunization clinic and had an amazing nurse who explained everything and gave me a ton on information. As far as shots go, it was a great experience. :) I simply cannot wait to go! It's getting closer....only a little over a month now.

Thanks again to all my family and friends who made donations! And, thank you to all of you for reading this incredibly looong post. Stay tuned for more.

Peace&Love
Ash

Inspiration...

Everyone needs a little inspiration sometimes...I know I do. Well, a week or so ago a fellow IVHQ volunteer, Jaklin, posted a video on her facebook page that was just that, inspiring. It is about a 12 year old girl, Severn Suzuki, who gave a speech at a UN conference back in 1992. I don't know what you were doing when you were 12, but I was probably too busy packing for a sleepover or applying lipsmacker to even really think about the world around me let alone write a speech and gather enough courage to read it in front of the world's leaders. Thankfully, I grew up and now try (emphasis on try) to appreciate everything I have. And, hopefully I can do my best to use my voice to let others know what is really going on around us. Watch this and be inspired. :)

Peace&love,
Ash

Only the beginning...

First of all, I need to explain the name of my blog and give credit to the man from whom I am borrowing the quote. I got the name from Martin Luther King Jr's quote; "Everybody can be great because anybody can serve. You don't have to have a college degree to serve, you don't have to make your subject and verb agree to serve. You only need a heart full of grace. A soul generated by love." It is an understatement to say that MLK was an inspiring, wonderful example of what Americans, and all humans, should aspire to be like.

I am going to Kenya to do just what MLK proclaimed everyone should do, serve. I want to serve as many people while I am there and I hope to serve many more (people that is, not just Kenyans) after coming home. I believe that everyone, everyone deserves a good education, a family, plenty of food and clean water, and basic medical care. These things are not privileges for the privileged. They are basic human rights. While in Kenya, I hope to help some people acquire some of those rights. I know I probably won't be able to improve their lives in the long term, but I hope to improve their day-to-day lives for the short term. Maybe by doing that it will give them hope that there are better days ahead of them and people in the world who care about their wellbeing. Maybe that hope will inspire them to do good with their lives and take every oppurtuity, however small or infrequent, given to them in order to make a better life for themselves in the long term.

I created this blog as a way for friends anf family to follow my journey to Kenya. I'll be posting pictures and hopefully videos while I am there (and before I go). Hopefully you'll continue reading this....even though I can't promise I won't ramble sometimes. :)

Peace&Love,

Ash