Hello all,
I am back safely (after another beautiful but supremely uncomfortable ride across Kenya) in Ongata Rongai at the house of Mary and Peter. I leave in just 2 days which is really hard to believe. I'm excited to go home but I really did get a bit stuck on the life in bucolic Nyeri. There are other volunteers here who spent the whole semester throwing keg parties to earn $13,000 to give to the center and school- really amazing. I haven't quite recovered from my trip yesterday so I was pretty useless today but it is lovely to see old friends (Tabitha, Maureen, John, Mary, Peter, Meshack etc...). I am also glad I managed to see Alex and family again (despite the trip). The girls were less shy, I got to stay at their house and I got to see Ridah again. Ridah (the elderly woman I was so enamored with in another blog) had SO many questions this time about the U.S. compared to Kenya (funerals, dowries, poor people, crime etc...)
I will miss Kenya.
See most of you very soon,
Lied
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
3/8/07: running, corruption and the sale of mt. kenya
I wrote this blog on March 8th but was unable to send it at the time.
The other day I went running in Nyeri. I have seen people run (usually men) running here and around Nairobi but I figured I'd probably be a spectacle, particularly since I'm already a spectacle in this rural area. But I braved a run in the early evening. Although I've been walking A LOT since getting to Kenya I haven't run at all (except for w/in that soccer game over a month ago). So I was worried about being a little out of shape. Nevertheless I was confident I could do 2 1/2 miles before it got dark (in 1/2 hr). Wangui didn't believe me and was very worried. After some negotiation I took off. About 1/8 mile along I met one of our neighbors and greeted her. Immediately after I passed her she evidently went straight to the house and asked them what on earth I was doing. Wangui tried to explain but said the neighbor left very confused. The run was actually beautiful and I thought that it was nice to start training for the NYC marathon in Kenya. After my run (I did make it back before dark) I teased Wangui that so many famous marathoners are from Kenya and yet it's weird to run here.
The other day I went running in Nyeri. I have seen people run (usually men) running here and around Nairobi but I figured I'd probably be a spectacle, particularly since I'm already a spectacle in this rural area. But I braved a run in the early evening. Although I've been walking A LOT since getting to Kenya I haven't run at all (except for w/in that soccer game over a month ago). So I was worried about being a little out of shape. Nevertheless I was confident I could do 2 1/2 miles before it got dark (in 1/2 hr). Wangui didn't believe me and was very worried. After some negotiation I took off. About 1/8 mile along I met one of our neighbors and greeted her. Immediately after I passed her she evidently went straight to the house and asked them what on earth I was doing. Wangui tried to explain but said the neighbor left very confused. The run was actually beautiful and I thought that it was nice to start training for the NYC marathon in Kenya. After my run (I did make it back before dark) I teased Wangui that so many famous marathoners are from Kenya and yet it's weird to run here.
Corruption- The Red Cross in Nyeri had been accused of selling donated items. The rumor was very vague and my boss, Rose, as the Red Cross was upset about it because she felt there was no way to combat those rumors without knowing what instance, what people (volunteers, employees?) were being implicated. I noticed that people were reacting to these rumors when a private school donated items and we (RC) went with them to distribute the items. The school was late in getting to the office and it was about to rain so Rose asked them if they would like us to distribute the items later. The head teacher bristled at the idea so I and some other volunteers went with them (this put me home way after dark and worried the heck out of my family here). Before we distributed we counted the items so when later only 8 tubs (instead of 10) of 20 liters of cooking fat were found we were a bit frantic. I had been about to distribute the cooking fat so I reported it to the head teacher. She was alarmed and said (rather accusingly, I thought) that she had told us 10. I agreed with her, showed her my list and explained that that was precisely why I was reporting it to her. After some detective work, the 2 missing tubs were found in the chief's office. The chiefs of a village/area are responsible for counting the internally displaced people. Once the tubs were found the chief basically hid in his office. There was another American there with the private school and she and I were both very angry and wondering what they were going to do to the chief. The head teacher said we were to do nothing. I had spoken at length with people at RC that morning about corruption (the fact that it exists in the U.S. but that the general population doesn't experience it as a rule). It was really frustrating to see that happen (good that the head teacher saw where the corruption was- the RC has had several problems with chiefs and elders trying to skim some off the top- wanting to do the distribution themselves). When I got home, Aneta suggested we put it in the newspaper. When I brought up that suggestion to Rose she (and others) said that the problem is that the newspapers here are so sensationalist that they would be worried that because the RC was there somehow they'd end up as the problem. Argh.
I've spoken little of politics lately. A power-sharing coalition has been agreed upon. Things seem peaceful. None of the things that really set the violence off have been resolved. People feel safe for the time being but are very aware it could happen again. And most people think that the next time it happens the Kikuyus (who have been largely, but in no way the only, victims) will have reached their limit and they will fight back really hard and it will be a bigger mess. But for now....
Aneta told me she had heard that Raila Odinga had sold Mount Kenya and that Kibaki didn't know it. When Wangui confirmed that that's what Aneta had said I couldn't help but laugh. I pressed Wangui about it- trying to get her to see that she really ought to evaluate statements- who would buy it from him? Who would be silly enough to? It was just such funny propaganda... when I told the RC people they also couldn't stop laughing.
Monday, March 3, 2008
my name is Wanjiku and I don't keep pigs
So, a while back in Ongata Rongai, Mary told me that my Kikuyu name was Wanjiku (a common Kikuyu name) because I reminded her of her daughter Wanjiku. She called me that once in a while as a bit of a joke. When I got to Nyeri I had told Aneta that she could call me Lied or Wanjiku and she chose the latter. The eldest girl calls me Lied but everyone else in that household calls me 'Shiko' (short for Wanjiku). At first I didn't answer to it all that well but now I'm used to it and I like it.
Re: the pigs. "I don't keep pigs personally". This was in response to the question "Do you keep pigs there where you live?". Because agriculture is such a vital part of most people's lives people ask me a lot of questions about the farms in the U.S. I try to explain that there are relatively few farmers and even the people who have gardens buy most of their food at stores.
I'm looking forward to coming home and am excited that it's less than 2 weeks away now. I've really enjoyed my time here but it will be so RELAXING to not be an anamoly. In general, I feel I'm pretty good-natured about answering questions and people are by in large very friendly but gosh it can get tiring being this different-looking, foreign person. I am reminded that I would not care to be famous. I also have a glimpse of how terrible it must be to be part of a stigmatized population whose 'difference' (such as skin color, physical, or even mental disability) is easily spotted. The attention I get walking down the street, in a car, in a store is positive but it's easy to be tired and frustrated by it. I can only imagine what it must feel like to get that kind of negative attention. But I have to admit that just when I feel as if I can not meet yet another new person and answer the same questions, I find myself in conversation with an interesting person who has a really different perspective on what's happening here in Kenya or who asks me some unusual questions that bear thinking about.
Today at the Red Cross we went to deliver a body of a boy who had died at a camp in Nakuru to his family's home here in Nyeri. The boy died of spinal tuberculosis in the camp. His immediate family was also at the camp and today all of them returned home with the body to bury it on extended family land. He was 17. It was very sad. True to Kenyan tradition though, before 12! Red Cross staff were allowed to leave after delivering the body and staying for a short speech and prayer we were served tea and lunch. The lunch was an enormous plate of field corn, beans (githeri) and potatoes AND THEN (just when we thought we were done) rice and carrots. Those who didn't take rice and carrots were yelled at by the shosho (grandmother).
Have I mentioned how beautiful it is here and how much I will miss these wonderful people?
Oh- one more story. My aunt (who lived in Kenya 30 years ago) told me a story some years ago about how she came in to the hospital to teach a class and was late and started to rush off to the class only to be reprimanded for not shaking everyone's hand. It's happened to me too-- now matter if there are 17 people in a room, it is expected that you greet each one with a handshake and a "How are you?". Relationships are way more important than being on time.
Re: the pigs. "I don't keep pigs personally". This was in response to the question "Do you keep pigs there where you live?". Because agriculture is such a vital part of most people's lives people ask me a lot of questions about the farms in the U.S. I try to explain that there are relatively few farmers and even the people who have gardens buy most of their food at stores.
I'm looking forward to coming home and am excited that it's less than 2 weeks away now. I've really enjoyed my time here but it will be so RELAXING to not be an anamoly. In general, I feel I'm pretty good-natured about answering questions and people are by in large very friendly but gosh it can get tiring being this different-looking, foreign person. I am reminded that I would not care to be famous. I also have a glimpse of how terrible it must be to be part of a stigmatized population whose 'difference' (such as skin color, physical, or even mental disability) is easily spotted. The attention I get walking down the street, in a car, in a store is positive but it's easy to be tired and frustrated by it. I can only imagine what it must feel like to get that kind of negative attention. But I have to admit that just when I feel as if I can not meet yet another new person and answer the same questions, I find myself in conversation with an interesting person who has a really different perspective on what's happening here in Kenya or who asks me some unusual questions that bear thinking about.
Today at the Red Cross we went to deliver a body of a boy who had died at a camp in Nakuru to his family's home here in Nyeri. The boy died of spinal tuberculosis in the camp. His immediate family was also at the camp and today all of them returned home with the body to bury it on extended family land. He was 17. It was very sad. True to Kenyan tradition though, before 12! Red Cross staff were allowed to leave after delivering the body and staying for a short speech and prayer we were served tea and lunch. The lunch was an enormous plate of field corn, beans (githeri) and potatoes AND THEN (just when we thought we were done) rice and carrots. Those who didn't take rice and carrots were yelled at by the shosho (grandmother).
Have I mentioned how beautiful it is here and how much I will miss these wonderful people?
Oh- one more story. My aunt (who lived in Kenya 30 years ago) told me a story some years ago about how she came in to the hospital to teach a class and was late and started to rush off to the class only to be reprimanded for not shaking everyone's hand. It's happened to me too-- now matter if there are 17 people in a room, it is expected that you greet each one with a handshake and a "How are you?". Relationships are way more important than being on time.
Thursday, February 28, 2008
orange feet and 7 cups of tea
The dust here gets everywhere and living in a mud hut it's hard to keep your feet clean. Consequently my feet constantly have this orange hue. I thought they drank a lot of tea in Ongata Rongai. I've counted and it usually adds up to about 7 cups of chai (water and milk boiled with a few tea leaves) a day. (It's almost 3pm and I've had 4 cups already).
My friend Michelle asked me about the weather. So here's the answer (for everyone): As in the States it depends a bit on where in Kemya one is. Parts of Kenya are known for being particularly cold (probably meaning the temperature there ranges from high 40s-70s), Mombasa on the coast is supposed to be particularly hot and humid. But since Kenya is much smaller than the U.S. the variance is less and most of the places I've been are fairly similar. Somewhat dry (certainly not the humidity of NYC in the summer) and hot. Where I am now, it is quite cool in the evening and in the morning (cool enough to see my breath sometimes when I first wake up at 6am) and it reliably gets hotter as the morning wears on. By the afternoon it's about 90F and starting at 5pm it gradually gets cooler. Even by 7pm it's nice to have long sleeves, pants on. January and February are the hottest and driest months (as I understand it) so I'm seeing the hot end of it and it's really quite comfortable as long as you can manage shade at the hottest hours of the day. July and August are their coldest months when it gets to around 40F at night and maybe only warms up to 60 during the day. I haven't been in a heated nor air-conditioned room yet.
So back to what I'm doing lately. Well, as it turns out my first day at the Red Cross was fairly representative of how it is. We do a lot of food distribution for displaced families. As the food is distributed and when we've finished there's usually time to talk to the displaced people and hear their stories, hear their concerns, hopes etc... It's amazing how strong people can be. It's also really nice to be useful. The other day the father from the family in Ongata Rongai came to visit and give me a "break" by taking me around Nyeri (this area). It ended up being really nice and I saw a lot of sites and talked to a lot of interesting people but it was really the opposite of a break for me. Living out in the boonies (from the Tagalog word for mountain- bundok), reading and studying Swahili or playing cards with the kids at the shamba, working for the Red Cross, having lots of time to myself as I walk home from work, actually doing concrete, physical tasks- THAT is what feels great. Getting in the car and driving places, meeting lots of people (which calls for a formality that's sometimes a bit akward- feeling as if people are stopping what they're doing to meet you because you're a mazungu- of 'European descent'), having the same conversations over and over again about politics makes me more exhausted. But again- it was nice of him to show me around and I had a couple of interesting conversations with a nun at one of the schools we visited about adoption and mental illness.
Adoption- people often end up informally adopting their relatives' children when the parents die and sometimes strangers will help out by paying school fees for older children but formal adoption of unrelated children is strange. When I was explaining that I had cousins that are adopted but that are absolutely my cousins she thought that was neat but assumed that they hadn't been told they were adopted. She was really interested in the topic and I learned some more about adoption here. I think part of the reason that formal adoption isn't as common is that children spend so much time at school, many board at the school (this is true even at public schools and parents pay just for room and board, not the education) so the relationship between the parents and children is not as constant as it is in the States.
Mental Illness- as in the States, the idea that mentally ill people are dangerous prevails and when people find out that I work with the mentally ill their eyes grow wide. That said, I've met 3 women who were mentally ill living with their families so depending on the severity, it seems that they're not always considered dangerous- I don't know but I'd be willing to bet that women with mental illness are more often cared for by families than men. The head nurse at the clinic in Ongata Rongai explained to me that it's not uncommon to have someone (or their family member) come in and complain of stress or confusion. It's generally considered a temporary illness and many people are advised to rest or giving an injection. (People get injections for everything here- antibiotics, vitamins etc...) so getting an injection doesn't seem to be as scary here). I see a few people on the street and there is also a hospital for the mentally ill in Nairobi but from what I can tell many people with mental illness survive with the support of the family network.
As usual I meant to write so much more but I best be on my way...
Dara- my sore throat was terrible again this morning but it feels better so I'm hoping I'm on the upswing.
My friend Michelle asked me about the weather. So here's the answer (for everyone): As in the States it depends a bit on where in Kemya one is. Parts of Kenya are known for being particularly cold (probably meaning the temperature there ranges from high 40s-70s), Mombasa on the coast is supposed to be particularly hot and humid. But since Kenya is much smaller than the U.S. the variance is less and most of the places I've been are fairly similar. Somewhat dry (certainly not the humidity of NYC in the summer) and hot. Where I am now, it is quite cool in the evening and in the morning (cool enough to see my breath sometimes when I first wake up at 6am) and it reliably gets hotter as the morning wears on. By the afternoon it's about 90F and starting at 5pm it gradually gets cooler. Even by 7pm it's nice to have long sleeves, pants on. January and February are the hottest and driest months (as I understand it) so I'm seeing the hot end of it and it's really quite comfortable as long as you can manage shade at the hottest hours of the day. July and August are their coldest months when it gets to around 40F at night and maybe only warms up to 60 during the day. I haven't been in a heated nor air-conditioned room yet.
So back to what I'm doing lately. Well, as it turns out my first day at the Red Cross was fairly representative of how it is. We do a lot of food distribution for displaced families. As the food is distributed and when we've finished there's usually time to talk to the displaced people and hear their stories, hear their concerns, hopes etc... It's amazing how strong people can be. It's also really nice to be useful. The other day the father from the family in Ongata Rongai came to visit and give me a "break" by taking me around Nyeri (this area). It ended up being really nice and I saw a lot of sites and talked to a lot of interesting people but it was really the opposite of a break for me. Living out in the boonies (from the Tagalog word for mountain- bundok), reading and studying Swahili or playing cards with the kids at the shamba, working for the Red Cross, having lots of time to myself as I walk home from work, actually doing concrete, physical tasks- THAT is what feels great. Getting in the car and driving places, meeting lots of people (which calls for a formality that's sometimes a bit akward- feeling as if people are stopping what they're doing to meet you because you're a mazungu- of 'European descent'), having the same conversations over and over again about politics makes me more exhausted. But again- it was nice of him to show me around and I had a couple of interesting conversations with a nun at one of the schools we visited about adoption and mental illness.
Adoption- people often end up informally adopting their relatives' children when the parents die and sometimes strangers will help out by paying school fees for older children but formal adoption of unrelated children is strange. When I was explaining that I had cousins that are adopted but that are absolutely my cousins she thought that was neat but assumed that they hadn't been told they were adopted. She was really interested in the topic and I learned some more about adoption here. I think part of the reason that formal adoption isn't as common is that children spend so much time at school, many board at the school (this is true even at public schools and parents pay just for room and board, not the education) so the relationship between the parents and children is not as constant as it is in the States.
Mental Illness- as in the States, the idea that mentally ill people are dangerous prevails and when people find out that I work with the mentally ill their eyes grow wide. That said, I've met 3 women who were mentally ill living with their families so depending on the severity, it seems that they're not always considered dangerous- I don't know but I'd be willing to bet that women with mental illness are more often cared for by families than men. The head nurse at the clinic in Ongata Rongai explained to me that it's not uncommon to have someone (or their family member) come in and complain of stress or confusion. It's generally considered a temporary illness and many people are advised to rest or giving an injection. (People get injections for everything here- antibiotics, vitamins etc...) so getting an injection doesn't seem to be as scary here). I see a few people on the street and there is also a hospital for the mentally ill in Nairobi but from what I can tell many people with mental illness survive with the support of the family network.
As usual I meant to write so much more but I best be on my way...
Dara- my sore throat was terrible again this morning but it feels better so I'm hoping I'm on the upswing.
orange feet and 7 cups of tea
The dust here gets everywhere and living in a mud hut it's hard to keep your feet clean. Consequently my feet constantly have this orange hue. I thought they drank a lot of tea in Ongata Rongai. I've counted and it usually adds up to about 7 cups of chai (water and milk boiled with a few tea leaves) a day. (It's almost 3pm and I've had 4 cups already).
My friend Michelle asked me about the weather. So here's the answer (for everyone): As in the States it depends a bit on where in Kemya one is. Parts of Kenya are known for being particularly cold (probably meaning the temperature there ranges from high 40s-70s), Mombasa on the coast is supposed to be particularly hot and humid. But since Kenya is much smaller than the U.S. the variance is less and most of the places I've been are fairly similar. Somewhat dry (certainly not the humidity of NYC in the summer) and hot. Where I am now, it is quite cool in the evening and in the morning (cool enough to see my breath sometimes when I first wake up at 6am) and it reliably gets hotter as the morning wears on. By the afternoon it's about 90F and starting at 5pm it gradually gets cooler. Even by 7pm it's nice to have long sleeves, pants on. January and February are the hottest and driest months (as I understand it) so I'm seeing the hot end of it and it's really quite comfortable as long as you can manage shade at the hottest hours of the day. July and August are their coldest months when it gets to around 40F at night and maybe only warms up to 60 during the day. I haven't been in a heated nor air-conditioned room yet.
So back to what I'm doing lately. Well, as it turns out my first day at the Red Cross was fairly representative of how it is. We do a lot of food distribution for displaced families. As the food is distributed and when we've finished there's usually time to talk to the displaced people and hear their stories, hear their concerns, hopes etc... It's amazing how strong people can be. It's also really nice to be useful. The other day the father from the family in Ongata Rongai came to visit and give me a "break" by taking me around Nyeri (this area). It ended up being really nice and I saw a lot of sites and talked to a lot of interesting people but it was really the opposite of a break for me. Living out in the boonies (from the Tagalog word for mountain- bundok), reading and studying Swahili or playing cards with the kids at the shamba, working for the Red Cross, having lots of time to myself as I walk home from work, actually doing concrete, physical tasks- THAT is what feels great. Getting in the car and driving places, meeting lots of people (which calls for a formality that's sometimes a bit akward- feeling as if people are stopping what they're doing to meet you because you're a mazungu- of 'European descent'), having the same conversations over and over again about politics makes me more exhausted. But again- it was nice of him to show me around and I had a couple of interesting conversations with a nun at one of the schools we visited about adoption and mental illness.
Adoption- people often end up informally adopting their relatives' children when the parents die and sometimes strangers will help out by paying school fees for older children but formal adoption of unrelated children is strange. When I was explaining that I had cousins that are adopted but that are absolutely my cousins she thought that was neat but assumed that they hadn't been told they were adopted. She was really interested in the topic and I learned some more about adoption here. I think part of the reason that formal adoption isn't as common is that children spend so much time at school, many board at the school (this is true even at public schools and parents pay just for room and board, not the education) so the relationship between the parents and children is not as constant as it is in the States.
Mental Illness- as in the States, the idea that mentally ill people are dangerous prevails and when people find out that I work with the mentally ill their eyes grow wide. That said, I've met 3 women who were mentally ill living with their families so depending on the severity, it seems that they're not always considered dangerous- I don't know but I'd be willing to bet that women with mental illness are more often cared for by families than men. The head nurse at the clinic in Ongata Rongai explained to me that it's not uncommon to have someone (or their family member) come in and complain of stress or confusion. It's generally considered a temporary illness and many people are advised to rest or giving an injection. (People get injections for everything here- antibiotics, vitamins etc...) so getting an injection doesn't seem to be as scary here). I see a few people on the street and there is also a hospital for the mentally ill in Nairobi but from what I can tell many people with mental illness survive with the support of the family network.
As usual I meant to write so much more but I best be on my way...
Dara- my sore throat was terrible again this morning but it feels better so I'm hoping I'm on the upswing.
My friend Michelle asked me about the weather. So here's the answer (for everyone): As in the States it depends a bit on where in Kemya one is. Parts of Kenya are known for being particularly cold (probably meaning the temperature there ranges from high 40s-70s), Mombasa on the coast is supposed to be particularly hot and humid. But since Kenya is much smaller than the U.S. the variance is less and most of the places I've been are fairly similar. Somewhat dry (certainly not the humidity of NYC in the summer) and hot. Where I am now, it is quite cool in the evening and in the morning (cool enough to see my breath sometimes when I first wake up at 6am) and it reliably gets hotter as the morning wears on. By the afternoon it's about 90F and starting at 5pm it gradually gets cooler. Even by 7pm it's nice to have long sleeves, pants on. January and February are the hottest and driest months (as I understand it) so I'm seeing the hot end of it and it's really quite comfortable as long as you can manage shade at the hottest hours of the day. July and August are their coldest months when it gets to around 40F at night and maybe only warms up to 60 during the day. I haven't been in a heated nor air-conditioned room yet.
So back to what I'm doing lately. Well, as it turns out my first day at the Red Cross was fairly representative of how it is. We do a lot of food distribution for displaced families. As the food is distributed and when we've finished there's usually time to talk to the displaced people and hear their stories, hear their concerns, hopes etc... It's amazing how strong people can be. It's also really nice to be useful. The other day the father from the family in Ongata Rongai came to visit and give me a "break" by taking me around Nyeri (this area). It ended up being really nice and I saw a lot of sites and talked to a lot of interesting people but it was really the opposite of a break for me. Living out in the boonies (from the Tagalog word for mountain- bundok), reading and studying Swahili or playing cards with the kids at the shamba, working for the Red Cross, having lots of time to myself as I walk home from work, actually doing concrete, physical tasks- THAT is what feels great. Getting in the car and driving places, meeting lots of people (which calls for a formality that's sometimes a bit akward- feeling as if people are stopping what they're doing to meet you because you're a mazungu- of 'European descent'), having the same conversations over and over again about politics makes me more exhausted. But again- it was nice of him to show me around and I had a couple of interesting conversations with a nun at one of the schools we visited about adoption and mental illness.
Adoption- people often end up informally adopting their relatives' children when the parents die and sometimes strangers will help out by paying school fees for older children but formal adoption of unrelated children is strange. When I was explaining that I had cousins that are adopted but that are absolutely my cousins she thought that was neat but assumed that they hadn't been told they were adopted. She was really interested in the topic and I learned some more about adoption here. I think part of the reason that formal adoption isn't as common is that children spend so much time at school, many board at the school (this is true even at public schools and parents pay just for room and board, not the education) so the relationship between the parents and children is not as constant as it is in the States.
Mental Illness- as in the States, the idea that mentally ill people are dangerous prevails and when people find out that I work with the mentally ill their eyes grow wide. That said, I've met 3 women who were mentally ill living with their families so depending on the severity, it seems that they're not always considered dangerous- I don't know but I'd be willing to bet that women with mental illness are more often cared for by families than men. The head nurse at the clinic in Ongata Rongai explained to me that it's not uncommon to have someone (or their family member) come in and complain of stress or confusion. It's generally considered a temporary illness and many people are advised to rest or giving an injection. (People get injections for everything here- antibiotics, vitamins etc...) so getting an injection doesn't seem to be as scary here). I see a few people on the street and there is also a hospital for the mentally ill in Nairobi but from what I can tell many people with mental illness survive with the support of the family network.
As usual I meant to write so much more but I best be on my way...
Dara- my sore throat was terrible again this morning but it feels better so I'm hoping I'm on the upswing.
Saturday, February 23, 2008
Paris Hilton has nothing on me.
Hello!
As it turns out I can email from here no problem. The way it worked out, I am working with the Red Cross in Nyeri. I am working with internally displaced people but I am living with the eldest sister of Peter (the patriarch of the family in Ongata Rongai) on a shamba (farm) in a mud hut. Also living on the shamba are 3 of Peter and Aneta's nieces that Aneta is taking care of while they go to school. Aneta, 71, with some help from the girls (11, 13 and 16) runs the entire farm. She raises pretty much all of the food we eat: beans, corn, potatoes, bananas, other veggies, milk (from 3 cows). I've helped a little and am learning a lot. It's pretty amazing.
The next day, my first day with the Red Cross, was also amazing but in a different way. The Red Cross in this area does not have one huge camp with thousands of people. Since this is a mostly Kikuyu area and most of the violence is over and people feel safe traveling many Kikuyus are now coming here from other displacement camps because this is either where they have family or where they've been told they belong. Some of the displaced people are living in temporary shelters but many are living with extended family. Within my first hour at the Red Cross I was asked to counsel a young man who had lost his entire family in the violence in early January. My Kiswahili is not ready for counseling and he spoke little English so another staff came to translate. At first I felt ridiculous because I felt the translator could probably do the counseling as well or better than I could but in the end I think it was really positive that we were both there. His story was so terrible (burnt house, found his father decapitated, mother and sisters also killed) - you really have to wonder how people can do these things (although it's been proven over and over again). But he had started healing and I think he will be OK. All he wanted help with is getting a job so he can go on with his life. It's too bad jobs can't be donated. After we assisted him (the government does have a program set up for job assistance for the displaced) we left to load a truck full of supplies to take to two different displaced people distribution sites. There were about 200 people at the first site (well over 100 of them were children- playing soccer of course). It was a little chaotic- there was a bit to be desired as far as organization but in the end it was successful and people were very grateful. We then headed to the next site but we never made it because going up a hill we got stuck behind another truck that was stuck in the mud. We waited for about an hour (we didn't have room to turn around on the hill) while a caterpillar was fetched to help the truck out and by the time we would have been delivering the food it would have been getting dark and the Red Cross was worried that the people would be mugged and the much-needed food stolen. The other volunteers (all Kenyan) are very nice. Anyway I hope I can continue to be helpful. The land here is so gorgeous!
As it turns out I can email from here no problem. The way it worked out, I am working with the Red Cross in Nyeri. I am working with internally displaced people but I am living with the eldest sister of Peter (the patriarch of the family in Ongata Rongai) on a shamba (farm) in a mud hut. Also living on the shamba are 3 of Peter and Aneta's nieces that Aneta is taking care of while they go to school. Aneta, 71, with some help from the girls (11, 13 and 16) runs the entire farm. She raises pretty much all of the food we eat: beans, corn, potatoes, bananas, other veggies, milk (from 3 cows). I've helped a little and am learning a lot. It's pretty amazing.
The next day, my first day with the Red Cross, was also amazing but in a different way. The Red Cross in this area does not have one huge camp with thousands of people. Since this is a mostly Kikuyu area and most of the violence is over and people feel safe traveling many Kikuyus are now coming here from other displacement camps because this is either where they have family or where they've been told they belong. Some of the displaced people are living in temporary shelters but many are living with extended family. Within my first hour at the Red Cross I was asked to counsel a young man who had lost his entire family in the violence in early January. My Kiswahili is not ready for counseling and he spoke little English so another staff came to translate. At first I felt ridiculous because I felt the translator could probably do the counseling as well or better than I could but in the end I think it was really positive that we were both there. His story was so terrible (burnt house, found his father decapitated, mother and sisters also killed) - you really have to wonder how people can do these things (although it's been proven over and over again). But he had started healing and I think he will be OK. All he wanted help with is getting a job so he can go on with his life. It's too bad jobs can't be donated. After we assisted him (the government does have a program set up for job assistance for the displaced) we left to load a truck full of supplies to take to two different displaced people distribution sites. There were about 200 people at the first site (well over 100 of them were children- playing soccer of course). It was a little chaotic- there was a bit to be desired as far as organization but in the end it was successful and people were very grateful. We then headed to the next site but we never made it because going up a hill we got stuck behind another truck that was stuck in the mud. We waited for about an hour (we didn't have room to turn around on the hill) while a caterpillar was fetched to help the truck out and by the time we would have been delivering the food it would have been getting dark and the Red Cross was worried that the people would be mugged and the much-needed food stolen. The other volunteers (all Kenyan) are very nice. Anyway I hope I can continue to be helpful. The land here is so gorgeous!
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
away to a displacement camp
Tomorrow I am leaving to go to a displacement camp to work. I will hopefully be there for about 2 weeks but I'm not really sure. I'm also thinking that I may not have internet access during that time and certainly not as frequently so don't be concerned if you don't hear from me. I will probably be placed in a camp at Nyeri but may be somewhere else. If anyone NEEDS to get a hold of me you can actually reach me on my cell here: 011-254-0711779792 (although you might not need to use that second 0.) If used with a calling card for Africa (obtained on the internet) it's probably not too too expensive (Dara, fruz :))
I will write as soon as I can.
Lied
I will write as soon as I can.
Lied
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