Thursday, December 27, 2012

Captured Moments



The chameleon I finally got to see and hold!


 Walking through the tea estates, there were people plucking tea and people taking theirs to be weighed.


Several of my siblings and I went to a river where we crossed just ahead 
of a waterfall which is used to produce hydroelectricity.

I love seeing kids passing their time peacefully outdoors.

Christmas


It’s funny how we come to associate one thing or another with a particular event.  To me Christmas is supposed to be accompanied by cold weather (usually snow), Christmas music, a tree and baked goods.  Here in Kenya, although it is a day of family get-togethers, a holiday, it doesn’t seem like Christmas to me.  No cold weather.  In fact, it is in the 70s (I think).  No familiar Christmas tunes.  No evergreen trees…not even a plastic one.  No baked goods. 

On Christmas Eve, there was no children’s re-enactment of the Christmas story, but the girls and I plaited our hair.  On Christmas, we celebrated the day by spending all morning preparing food with 3 different fires and a jiko.  We made about 100 chapati, rice, potatoes, sukuma wikii, peas, beans, mandazi, and a few other things, slaughtered a goat and a chicken (something I did not witness, but the cries reached the kitchen), and cleaned the place despite the rain in preparation for about 50 family members who were coming.  The sun shone as the visitors arrived, but poured down as we carried plates of food from the kitchen to the house (to the sitting room and bedrooms) to be served.  It was a busy, but enjoyable day, that like most celebratory events in Kenya revolved around eating, drinking tea, and giving/listening to speeches.  Hope you had a merry Christmas.  Happy New Year!

Thursday, December 20, 2012

SIM Card Rescue

One thing I thought I’d learned was that pit latrines are unforgiving.  When something falls in, it is never coming out.  Well, perhaps I don’t give them enough credit.  Perhaps latrines have a tiny bit of heart.  We often take our mobile phones to the outhouse at night so we can check for anything inside before using them.

The other night, Chepngetich’s phone slipped and the back came off.  Her battery and SIM card bounced and disappeared rapidly down the hole in the floor.  Now, most people would have written them off and decided that it was better to just purchase new ones, but Chepngetich was determined to get her SIM card back.

At 11 pm, she and I and one other person, went out to the latrine.  She could see them resting on the top of the manure pile below.  At first we thought we’d use a hoe, but the head (blade) was too wide to fit down the hole and the handles would not have been long enough anyway.  On to Plan B.  Sticks.  Chepngetich and I ripped 2 long branches off of some nearby trees and stripped the twigs to have two long sticks.  I held the flashlight, while she carefully reached the two branches downwards to retrieve the card.  She declared that the battery was not nearly as important as the tiny SIM card.  She reached the card, but the problem was pulling it up and out.  It kept slipping out of the ends of the branches. 

Plan C.  We searched for a plastic lid about 2 inches in diameter an stabbed a hole in the centre with a knife.  We then got another long stick and placed the lid on the end.  With more careful and calculated actions, we hauled both the SIM card and the battery out of the muck.  I ran and got some paper to hold them with and we carried them to the water spigot.  Chepgnetich threw numerous handfuls of water on them and wiped them with a leaf, before taking them inside and drying them. 

What celebration and laughter erupted when she tried them and both the battery and the SIM card functioned properly!  Nothing had been lost.  No one believed that we had really retrieved the items from the latrine.  It was so funny and something I won’t easily forget.

Saturday, December 15, 2012

Rules on the Road


Driving down Nebraska’s highways, it’s easy to get a lead foot or simply be tempted to set the cruise control five mph over the speed limit to reduce the amount of time spent on the road.  Both come with the risk of those dreaded red and blue lights appearing in the rearview mirror.  When suddenly meeting a police car, you hold your breath, silently praying it won’t swiftly turn around and pull you over.  When approaching a construction zone, you hope you won’t have to sit for twenty minutes awaiting your turn to proceed slowly down the single lane. 

The unwritten/informal rules of the road in Kenya are different.  First of all, in semi-rural areas, there is no need to worry about police cars, as there are few officers and they certainly do not have cars.  Instead, the traffic police known for corruption, stand on the edge of the road.  Robert Ngeno, who shares this opinion with many, stated, “That’s the only job there is that people wake up and go to the road to get money without doing any work!” 

More times than not, when I have been in a vehicle, we have been waved over to the side.  The driver then drops a bribe (usually 200 Kenyan shillings or about $2.40) out the window and is then signaled to continue onwards.  There is no problem. For personal vehicles—at times I think there isn’t any real problem, but for public vehicles, which are always overcrowded, paying the small bribe keeps them from suffering severe consequences as new traffic laws dictate. 

While I was in Nairobi a few weeks ago, the new traffic laws went into effect.  No, I think some changes ought to be made as Kenyan roads are among the most dangerous in the world with a very high number of fatalities in traffic accidents, but in my opinion, the consequences for offenses under the new laws are unreasonable.  Take for example someone having no insurance on his/her vehicle, even if it expired only one or two days prior.  This person could face a fine of 500,000 Ksh (nearly $6,000) or 10 years of imprisonment!  Of course this led to an uproar and many Kenyans (especially in Nairobi) did something that they are great at—They went on strike and rioted.  I was in Nairobi’s Central Business District, when I noticed something amiss.  To my horror, I watched as conductors shoved people out of buses and matatus, honked their horns, and drove recklessly: speeding, careening around corners, barreling over medians, driving on the wrong side of the streets and nearly hitting people all while empty inside.  Angry citizens began to throw things at the vehicles.  I knew I had to get out of there.  After two hours of searching for a vehicle willing to carry passengers down Thika Road, I was forced to pay 300 Ksh as opposed to the normal 80 ksh to Juja, but it was worth getting out of town.  Prices were very much inflated over the next few days and are now fixed at higher rates than they were back in November. 

Before entering any vehicle, I am sure to negotiate the fare so as to prevent being overcharged or having an argument within.  Most vehicles are stuffed far beyond capacity—the records of vehicles that I been in are 16 people in Corollas meant to carry 4-5 people, 26 people in Nissans intended for 14, and 4 people on motorbikes which are not designed for more than 2.  Overstuffed vehicles are not the only things on the roads that are often riddled with potholes and quite often large rocks and dust, not to mention an insane number of speed bumps.  I’ve seen roads shared  by lorries (semi-trucks), motorcycles (bodabodas), matatus, private cars, buses, donkeys pulling carts or packing sacks of maize, pedestrians, and camels. 

The roads are like mazes—various forms of transport speeding around others while dodging potholes and taking unmarked detours.  In many places—especially between Kericho and Kisumu or Litein and Eldoret, the roads are supposedly under construction, so vehicles are forced to go down onto rough dusty paths and come back up after some time, without any signs of directing them.  Other surprises to drivers can be unmarked speed bumps and sometimes series of them.  Between two small towns in Bureti District, is a series of speed bumps: 1 bar, 2 bars, 3,4,3,2,1 within a few hundred feet.  Vehicles weave back and forth across the two lanes as they rumble slowly over them making them seem more dangerous to me than if the vehicles were driving quickly.

As uncomfortable as public transport can be at times, I’m thankful I don’t have to drive these crazy roads and remember to keep on the left-hand side.  I don’t think I’ll ever fully understand them.

Patience


Is patience a virtue? 
Where does it come from?
Where does it go?
Is is hope dying?
Is it not caring? 
Is it growing?
Is it learning? 
Is it loving and forgiving? 
More than anything else,
it is something I’m learning,
but sometimes it’s so hard!

Sunday, December 9, 2012

Recent Snapshots

Me and Madam Daisy with Class 6 West


Pupils at Kimori Academy on closing day


A glimpse of the Great Rift Valley


A small piece of the crowd at a university graduation

Living in Tea Country


Have you ever stopped to wonder where tea comes from and how it gets to your lips?  Having spent the past 6 months in tea country in the South Rift, I finally took a tour of the nearest tea factory to discover just how the tea I’ve been consuming numerous times each day, comes to be a tasty drink from the plants in the plantations. 

The Mogogosiek Tea Factory, just down the road from where I stay, was established in 1884 and is just one of 65 factories of the Kenya Tea Development Association (KTDA).  Unlike the large British-owned tea estates of Unilever, Sasini, and James Finlay in the area, the factory is owned 100% by a group of 22,000 small scale farmer.  Six directors elected by the farmers oversee the factory’s operations and 150 workers.   The factory is ISO certifies; complying with food safety regulations.  Mogogosiek Tea Factory’s set processing capacity is 15 million kilograms of tea per year; however, they are exceeding that by 7 million kilograms annually.  Tea is Kenya’s highest foreign exchange earner, with 86% of the tea that is produced being exported.  The United Kingdom is the biggest importer of Kenyan tea, while Egypt, Pakistan, India and Somalia are also important consumers.

Once inside the large iron gate, Gladys (one of my Kenyan sisters) and I were taken to an office where we met a manager and were each served a cup of black tea mixed with milk.  We were given a white lab coat and white caps to wear for a tour.  After a satisfying taste of tea, we were met by a worker, Wesley, who was to give us a tour.  He did an excellent job, as he was very knowledgeable and also patient to answer questions. 

Wesley began by leading us out of the offices outside to the Reception Area where the large banana-crème colored trucks carrying 240 brown sisal bags of tea leaves were pulling up to deposit their leaves.  At this point, workers unhooked the bags from the trucks and hook them onto a humming monorail, which reminded me of a miniature ski lift to transport the leaves to where 76 troughs were waiting.    

The purposes of the troughs are to be used for sorting and wilting the tea leaves.  Leaves that are not in combinations of two leaves and a bud, are rejected and must be resorted.  Tea accepted by the Mogogosiek Tea Factory may only be handpicked, not cut by machines as in some larger estates. 

After sorting, the tea is left in other troughs to wilt.  The green leaves are spread quickly by one person in the troughs, followed up by another person who is more attentive and careful to spread the leaves evenly so that they wilt at an equal rate.  The withering area is warm  as the troughs are treated with steam underneath.  Fans rotating clockwise pump steam into the troughs, while they can be switched to run counterclockwise to suck steam.  After 2-3 hours the tea wilts to 67.5% of its original water capacity and is now ready to be cut and fermented.  It is transported from the Withering Area to the Processing Area via a conveyor in between the troughs. 

Down below, in the processing area, weighing scales controlled by a computerized machine, determine how quickly the tea is processed.  At the time we were there, they were cutting approximately 3500 kilograms of tea per hour.  The method of tea processing used in the Mogogosiek Tea Factory is known as CTC (Crush/Cut, Tear, Can).  The withered leaves are cut three times, becoming finer with each cut and filling the area with a strong scent similar to that of cut grass.  After being crushed and cut, it goes through the fermentation process, where the color changes gradually from a bright green to a medium brown.  The Continuous Fermenting Unit (CFU) is the machine used to ferment the tea leaves.  It s controlled by a thermometer and produces a noisy sound, similar to that of a diesel engine, although it runs on electricity.  Until 2009, the CFU was run manually by 90 workers, who then lost their jobs when the electric machine was introduced.  The tea is cut once more in its brown state if it has too much tanine.   After running through the fermentation stage for a second time, the tea moves along a conveyer belt to the drier where it remains for 1 – 1.5 hours. 

In the Boiler Area, our eyes stung with dust, but we were thankful for the dust masks to help keep us from ingesting the dust.  The drying machines transport the tea to this area sounding of squeaky machines and the drone of a loud motor.  The tea just arriving at the mouth of the driers is warm and full of fibers.  A fibro screen is a machine that is then used to remove the fibers by rolling them out and shaking the seeds down.  This is repeated as often as necessary until the tea is free of dirt and fibers.  The tea is then presorted according to grade, containing sees of differ sizes.  The grade of tea can be adjusted by the time that it spends in the Processing Area.  The larger the seeds, the higher the grade meaning that Grade 1 tea, having the largest seeds, is most often used for export, while the finer grains of lower quality are used locally.  The fourth grade known as Dust 1, is extremely fine like powdered sugar.  Something looking like a winnower is used to clean the tea before it is moved to bins, which are large storage facilities.  The large metal bins read BP, PF1, PP, and D1 according to the grade of tea they are. 

From the bins, the tea is moved to the Packing Section, where there are packers, forming boxes, and paper sacks which are labeled by grade and weigh 68 kilograms.  After the bags are weighed once more, they are sealed and loaded into trucks to be taken to a warehouse. 

Finally, we proceeded past a storage facility of old tires, scrap metal, plastic and waste paper to the Boiler Section: the heartbeat of the factory.  The steam boilers are fueled by wood, usually from Blue Gum trees.  100m3 is used daily on average to keep the boilers running.  The tea factory owns 63 acres of land on which it grows blue gum trees for its own use.  After 10 years, trees can be cut and used in the boilers.  There are workers constantly throwing in logs and stoking the fire, and adjusting the fans to control the heat.  Three large square water tanks are used to supply the two boilers with water.  From the boilers comes a droning sound with a singing noise approximately every 8 seconds.  A very tall chimney waits nearby, sending the smoke far up into the air. 

At the end of our tour we were taken to the shed where fuel wood is brought by large yellow Isuzu trucks and cut by chainsaws and stored as it dries.  Six men work together cutting and throwing the logs by hand during eight hour shifts.  Nearby sat a small red trackor and wooden trailer, as our nostrils filled with the smell of dust.    

We finished by going to the test-tasting unite where tea is taken from each of the areas in the factory and tasted before being shipped to the coastal city of Mombasa for further testing.  The tea is mixed with river water for test tasting so as to not have any minerals in it. 

After learning all this, tasting tea and finding out the 1 kilogram of green leaves produces ¼ kg of tea, I now look at the nearby plantations and estates and the tea in my cup with amazement.