Things have changed a lot over that past fews months. I came home from Kenya and slowly got back to a "normal" life. Anthony and I had talked about having kids before we ever got married. Going to Kenya was the last thing I wanted to do before starting a family. For Anthony, being done with nursing school before the baby arrived was a priority (and I agreed). So, we did the math and figured out when to start trying in order to have the baby after he graduates; which will be in May. I had been researching the logistics of getting pregnant (well, except from the obvious work required) such as charting your period and fertile days, and using ovulation predictor tests. We firgured that we waited long enough to start trying and we wanted to give ourselves the best shot of getting pregnant once we decided to start trying. We had read that it could take a healthy couple a year to get pregnant, so we decided to start trying a month early to give ourselves a head start. Well, surprise! I got pregnant the first month of trying. Which, meant I would be due in April- a month before Anthony graduates. I honestly didn't think that would ever happen; that we would be lucky enough to have such success early on.
I was so sure that I wasn't pregnant that I decided to take a pregnancy test before Anthony got home from school. I figured that way I would have time to process the negative result by myself before he got home. Well, I was absolutely shocked when the digital test read positive. I just stared at it and myself in the bathroom mirror. When Anthony got home I gave him the test. He looks at it and says "that only looks like one line" (meaning a negative test). He didn't even see that it actually said positive. I told him that it was a digital test not one of the ones with the double or single lines. "It says positive!", I said. He just looked at me. We were so excited and definitely shocked! I took a few more tests over the next few days and when they were also positive I called the midwife group I had researched and told them I needed an appointment. And so, our adventure began.
Little did we know that we would have several curve balls thrown at us over the next few months. There have been times where the life growing inside of me and my strong marriage seemed to be the only positive things in my life. Everything else just seemed so hard. The day I found out I was pregnant I found out that I got a nanny job I had interviewed for a week prior. Great news! Well, after just one week of working for this (flakey) family I was let go; the mother said that she wanted a family member to look after the kids and that she hoped she "didn't mess anything up for me". Riiiight, lady. So now, I was newly pregnant and unemployed. "Who hires a pregnant lady?", I thought. "Perfect timing" and "now what am I going to do?", also ran through my mind on a daily (sometimes hourly) basis. I eventually found a new, part-time job, and kept looking for something full time. All the while I kept getting bigger and knew that I wouldn't be able to hide this pregnancy forever. I felt immense pressure (from myself not Anthony) to find something full time and find it fast. Meanwhile we decided that we needed to move to a bigger, nicer place before this baby came. After a long, hard search we finally found a place we loved and cost less than $1,000 a month (who the eff pays $1,000+ for a two bedroom apartment in this area?!) and moved in November. We had money from our student loan refunds and figured we could make it stretch until I found something that actually paid the bills. I have been lucky enough to have been employed pretty much since graduating, and was pretty naive about the whole job searching process. The money ran out before I found anything full time, and we were majorly struggling to pay the rent. I ended up finding a better job and was told that I could give me two weeks notice to my other job. Well, I there ended up being a 2-3 week gap in between quitting one job and starting the other. Then Anthony's car died. It was like we couldn't win. But, thanks to our amazing families, we have been able to make ends meet. But, it has certainly been tough. We both HATE having to rely on others financially, and every time we have to ask for money it gets harder.
This has been a time of growth for us. We have learned so much through our trials. We have learned what we need versus what we want. We have cut back on just about everything we can cut back on, and are still struggling. We have grown closer as a couple, and now appreciate each other and what we have more than ever. We realize it could be so much worse. And, I know we will look back on this time and laugh. I just keep telling myself that it WILL get better eventually. "This is only temporary" has become my mantra. There have been many times when I have thought "this isn't fair! We were responsible, we waited to get pregnant until we were ready. Why is this happening to us?". I thought that had I known we were going to go through all these trials we would have waited to get pregnant. But, you know what? I learned that none of that negative thinking is productive. It gets you no where. I have come to realize that everything happens for a reason. And I know that things will get better once we get this semester's student loan refunds and when Anthony graduates and is getting paid at least double what he is making now. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. And, I have a feeling that when this little boy gets here I am going to have absolutely no regrets about trying to get pregnant when we did. I just can't wait to stare at him and think "this is what we've been working so hard for".
Monday, February 20, 2012
Thursday, June 30, 2011
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
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
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
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
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
Monday, June 20, 2011
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
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
Thursday, June 16, 2011
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.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
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.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
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
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
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