Along with learning new ways of doing things in another culture with different values and societal norms, I’m also learning new meanings to attach to several English words. These include a “hotel” as a place for eating, “torch” as a flashlight, “encyclopedia” as a book full of quizzes/tests and their answers, and “smart” as nice or good. Another word that forced me to understand its meaning in a new way and also something new about the culture is “tuition.”
Here tuition does not mean fees for enrolling in a school, but rather denotes a period of 2-3 weeks over the long holiday (school break) that students are expected to attend classes and do homework. Tuition was outlawed by the new constitution (which was adopted in 2010) but has not yet been effectively removed. This month came the closest, when in many places schools shut down for fear because teachers were being arrested and schools were threatened to be closed down if they held tuition. We had tuition for some time, but then closed school abruptly one morning when the threat seemed too near.
I was glad that tuition was stopped, because I don’t think children should spend so much time in school. The article banning it in the constitution is focused on children’s rights. After some calculations, I discovered that most kids in the US spend only 40% of the time in school as many kids here each year. Now I have some time to accomplish a few other things and I hope that the children are able to relax some at their homes.
Thursday, August 23, 2012
Monday, August 6, 2012
2nd Month in Photos
Street Vendors
Learning to Milk a Cow
Sporting some pajamas
Attempting to carry water on my head...and splashing it all over my face
Closing Ceremony at Kobel Mission School
Some members of the household
Playing with some children at the Baby Home
Visiting Mau Forest
Differing Worlds
Some say there are three worlds: that people living in Kenya are living in the third world, while people living in the USA are living in the first world, but I say differently. I've seen both suffering and luxery in industrialized nations and developing ones. Just the other day, I was reminded of the many ways that people live, the ways that children grow up and the situations in which they find themselves as I witnessed several situations in a single day.
My day began with a warm welcome and a high-five from a cheerful, energetic eight-year-old girl, whose father abandoned his wife and six children, leaving his wife to leave the children and work, although her earnings still were not enough to provide for them. This little girl saw her situation and decided herself to pack her few posessions and insist on leaving with her uncle and his family when they went on a visit to her home. She is now in a welcoming home with people constantly flowing in and out.
That morning I went to Kimori Academy to help clean the dormitories, since the children were on a one-week break. I had not been in the dormitories before, although I can see them from the classrooms and from the game field where PE is takes place as does a children's worship service on Fridays. I knew that they were timber buildings with cement floors, but I was unprepared for what I saw.
The timber walls have many holes in them where rodents, insects and spiders are free to come and go as they please. Additionally, although the weather is typically pleasant, it must be cold for the children at night with the drafts. The metal roof, makes the building especially noisy when it rains. The uneven floor was filthy, with ants crawling everywhere. As I was picking up trash and sweeping the filth with a leafy branch, I paused for a moment of rest, allowing my hand to fall on one of the nearby mattresses. In a matter of seconds I had ants crawling on my legs and was bit by the viscious critters on the hand. To think that many of my students must sleep in such conditions where they may be bit by those strong jaws at any moment, is awful.
Not only do they have those creatures to deal with, but there is little space and the beds are less than nice. The students keep their belongings in metal trunks that are either tied to the rafters or taking up space on the mattresses. The children who occupy space on wooden bunk beds have it much better than those on the metal bunk beds. Those beds are falling apart, some children have placed rough sticks under their mattresses to keep themselves from falling through the holds to the floor, while others have wires sticking up, in very dangerous fashions.
After cleaning, I returned home for lunch and expected the worst for my afternoon visit to the nearby Baby Home. It is a home for orphans, children whose mother's have died and whose fathers can't care for them and for children who have been abandoned and thrown away. The children are under the age of five. When then reach that age, they are transferred to a children's home in a nearby town. I asked by host sisters to accompany me, which they were glad to do, having not visited there themselves. We were pleasantly surprised by what we saw.
The place was very clean, the people friendly, the children healthy and well-fed. The receive sponsorship from people in the US and Europe as well as from local churches. I was pleased, that dispite the fact that life had been unkind to these children in some ways, they were being well taken care of and had found a place that was really like a nice home.
What kind of situation forces a small child to choose to leave her home and live elsewhere? How much education is valued, for children to put up with that kind of dormitory environment! And finally, I felt at peace knowing there is some good in the world, knowing that some children do find their situations improving.
My day began with a warm welcome and a high-five from a cheerful, energetic eight-year-old girl, whose father abandoned his wife and six children, leaving his wife to leave the children and work, although her earnings still were not enough to provide for them. This little girl saw her situation and decided herself to pack her few posessions and insist on leaving with her uncle and his family when they went on a visit to her home. She is now in a welcoming home with people constantly flowing in and out.
That morning I went to Kimori Academy to help clean the dormitories, since the children were on a one-week break. I had not been in the dormitories before, although I can see them from the classrooms and from the game field where PE is takes place as does a children's worship service on Fridays. I knew that they were timber buildings with cement floors, but I was unprepared for what I saw.
The timber walls have many holes in them where rodents, insects and spiders are free to come and go as they please. Additionally, although the weather is typically pleasant, it must be cold for the children at night with the drafts. The metal roof, makes the building especially noisy when it rains. The uneven floor was filthy, with ants crawling everywhere. As I was picking up trash and sweeping the filth with a leafy branch, I paused for a moment of rest, allowing my hand to fall on one of the nearby mattresses. In a matter of seconds I had ants crawling on my legs and was bit by the viscious critters on the hand. To think that many of my students must sleep in such conditions where they may be bit by those strong jaws at any moment, is awful.
Not only do they have those creatures to deal with, but there is little space and the beds are less than nice. The students keep their belongings in metal trunks that are either tied to the rafters or taking up space on the mattresses. The children who occupy space on wooden bunk beds have it much better than those on the metal bunk beds. Those beds are falling apart, some children have placed rough sticks under their mattresses to keep themselves from falling through the holds to the floor, while others have wires sticking up, in very dangerous fashions.
After cleaning, I returned home for lunch and expected the worst for my afternoon visit to the nearby Baby Home. It is a home for orphans, children whose mother's have died and whose fathers can't care for them and for children who have been abandoned and thrown away. The children are under the age of five. When then reach that age, they are transferred to a children's home in a nearby town. I asked by host sisters to accompany me, which they were glad to do, having not visited there themselves. We were pleasantly surprised by what we saw.
The place was very clean, the people friendly, the children healthy and well-fed. The receive sponsorship from people in the US and Europe as well as from local churches. I was pleased, that dispite the fact that life had been unkind to these children in some ways, they were being well taken care of and had found a place that was really like a nice home.
What kind of situation forces a small child to choose to leave her home and live elsewhere? How much education is valued, for children to put up with that kind of dormitory environment! And finally, I felt at peace knowing there is some good in the world, knowing that some children do find their situations improving.
Monday, July 23, 2012
Plans. What Plans?
I’m a firm believer in setting goals, because goals are the foundation of hope. Achieving goals takes effort, which usually requires some amount of planning. Otherwise, opportunities are missed. One thing I’ve done a lot of thinking about here is that idea of planning and hope.
People’s resilience manifests istelf in situations in which plans are dashed. Since I’ve been here, countless plans have been made, but few of those happenings have been realized. For example, when spending an afternoon with a friend in town, it began to rain too much and was getting late (as in 5 pm)—too late to travel since it would be a good time after dark, by the time I reached home. These two factors made travel dangerous, so we were forced to change other plans and stay in a motel and travel home in the morning. Another time, feeling unwell and on my way to a doctor to get medicine turned into a two-day trip to Nakuru—hence I did not teach lessons that day or the next. No water flowing from any hydrants or faucets means carrying water in buckets from elsewhere and doing less cleaning, so as to stretch the little water as far as possible. Also, plans have vanished as too much time elapses waiting for someone to arrive.
Most of the time I simply except the changes, but at times I get frustrated, wondering, “Why can’t things just work out the way they are supposed to? Can things not be done a little more efficiently?” Yet I remain amazed, “How can these people stay so happy and hopeful, when time and time again their expectations and hopes are crushed?” It doesn’t seem like it’s worth planning and looking forward to anything. And then I remember that hope is what dreams are made of, what drives us and makes the tough times easier.
I was visiting with a woman the other day, who was describing her timber home and says although it would be nice to have a more permanant solid structure, now is not the time to create one, because who knows what will happen in the future? Just as she says her home is not permanent, plans here definitely are not. But then, nothing really is permanent, is it?
People’s resilience manifests istelf in situations in which plans are dashed. Since I’ve been here, countless plans have been made, but few of those happenings have been realized. For example, when spending an afternoon with a friend in town, it began to rain too much and was getting late (as in 5 pm)—too late to travel since it would be a good time after dark, by the time I reached home. These two factors made travel dangerous, so we were forced to change other plans and stay in a motel and travel home in the morning. Another time, feeling unwell and on my way to a doctor to get medicine turned into a two-day trip to Nakuru—hence I did not teach lessons that day or the next. No water flowing from any hydrants or faucets means carrying water in buckets from elsewhere and doing less cleaning, so as to stretch the little water as far as possible. Also, plans have vanished as too much time elapses waiting for someone to arrive.
Most of the time I simply except the changes, but at times I get frustrated, wondering, “Why can’t things just work out the way they are supposed to? Can things not be done a little more efficiently?” Yet I remain amazed, “How can these people stay so happy and hopeful, when time and time again their expectations and hopes are crushed?” It doesn’t seem like it’s worth planning and looking forward to anything. And then I remember that hope is what dreams are made of, what drives us and makes the tough times easier.
I was visiting with a woman the other day, who was describing her timber home and says although it would be nice to have a more permanant solid structure, now is not the time to create one, because who knows what will happen in the future? Just as she says her home is not permanent, plans here definitely are not. But then, nothing really is permanent, is it?
The Deepest Color I’ve Ever Seen
You know that color you get when you mix all the colors together?
No, not brown.
I’m talking about a different color.
It’s the color
Of a beetle’s legs
Of a crow’s tongue
Of a man’s pupils
Of a southern German forest.
It’s black.
Yes, black, but nothing is blacker than an overcast Kenyan night.
No, not brown.
I’m talking about a different color.
It’s the color
Of a beetle’s legs
Of a crow’s tongue
Of a man’s pupils
Of a southern German forest.
It’s black.
Yes, black, but nothing is blacker than an overcast Kenyan night.
Kisumu
To me it felt just like Lambayeque, Peru, except that the prefered language by most people was Luo rather than Spanish. I’ve been to Kisumu two times now. The first was to visit a friend’s mother and the second was as a chaparone for a class 8 trip.
The weather was beautiful and warm and all over I saw people using motorbikes or matatus for transportation. We got to visit the airport, Lake Victoria, which in some places looks like a field because of the water hyacinths that are growing there and that they cannot seem to rid it from. We also visited a museum, the Radio Victoria station, and Impala Park. My favorite part was the Lake. I felt frustrated at the museum and park, because both places, as in Peru, I was charged abnormally high prices, because it was evident that I am not a Kenyan citizen.
The lake was beautiful and peaceful and I enjoyed watching the kid’s reactions, especially when some of them saw and airplane for the first time and how amazed and fascinated they were about everything. With their eyes wide and their mouths gaped they raced along the fence as if chasing after the plane as it took off. So much fun to see their enthusiasm.
Ships docked in Lake Victoria
The weather was beautiful and warm and all over I saw people using motorbikes or matatus for transportation. We got to visit the airport, Lake Victoria, which in some places looks like a field because of the water hyacinths that are growing there and that they cannot seem to rid it from. We also visited a museum, the Radio Victoria station, and Impala Park. My favorite part was the Lake. I felt frustrated at the museum and park, because both places, as in Peru, I was charged abnormally high prices, because it was evident that I am not a Kenyan citizen.
The lake was beautiful and peaceful and I enjoyed watching the kid’s reactions, especially when some of them saw and airplane for the first time and how amazed and fascinated they were about everything. With their eyes wide and their mouths gaped they raced along the fence as if chasing after the plane as it took off. So much fun to see their enthusiasm.
Ships docked in Lake Victoria
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