They call a chicken kuku in Kiswahili

Even though Kakamega is a small commercial center, you don’t have to go very far from the main road to find yourself in a Kenyan village with no electricity and no running water. Many people, even in the villages located within walking distance of Kakamega, have never been to town and will live their whole life within a small radius of their village.

Yesterday we visited the homes of some of the girls who are participating in Just One Person. Luckily, we had access to a 4 wheel drive vehicle. Not only are the “main roads” into the interior riddled with pot holes and big rocks, but the path leading to one family’s shamba was just a bike path bordered on both sides by heavy shrubbery. The driver wasn’t concerned and we just drove through whatever was there, sometimes with the car leaning precariously to one side.

Visiting the girls’ homes paints a complete picture of what challenges the girls face as they are growing up. You can see how big the family is by how many small children are running around in the yard, whether the family owns a cow, how far the girls must walk to get water, if the family has enough land to grow vegetables or maize or kale and how far she has to walk to get transportation to school, which sometimes can be 2 or 3 miles.

We’re always honored guests when we visit and each family has its own story to tell. While visiting one of the Monica’s grandfathers, a very short, old, wrinkled Mama literally danced and sang as she entered the house to express her happiness at having visitors. The grandfather was almost completely blind with cataracts in both eyes. There were many women in the house during the visit, because the family practices polygamy so both Monica’s Dad and Grandfather had multiple wives. Unfortunately, polygamy is one of the cultural issues that perpetuate poverty in western Kenya. It gives rise to too many mouths to feed and educate and, when resources are available, they are always allocated to the boys first, and the girls are taken care of with whatever is left.

Lydia’s parents were both dead leaving her oldest brother in charge of providing for the entire family which included his mother, his own wives and family, his little brothers and sisters and his grown sisters who are widows. He worked very hard at making bricks by hand from clay dirt he had dug from a big swimming pool size hole in his yard. Even with that, he still struggles every day to put food on the table and it is rarely enough.

In spite of the hardships, Kenyans can be the most generous people in the world. We didn’t leave a single house empty handed. We were given maize, beans, avocados and a live chicken, that you see me holding in the photo. I think it was some kind of test to see if I could manage a mean live chicken which I thankfully passed. Poor chicken, they tied his feet so we could put him in the back seat and all during the ride home, he kept flapping his wings and jumping up to escape. The chicken lives temporarily at Emma’s house, at least until he is invited for dinner.

We were also given ¼ of an acre of land on Monica’s family land…..this is land that has been in the family for generations and passed down from father to son for centuries. I was so moved by the gesture and the appreciation the family has shown to JOP for the opportunity given to their daughter. It made me think about what our values are around education in the US?

At all these villages, the small children had never seen a white person or a picture of a white person before, especially one wearing glasses. Most of them were afraid that I was a “jinn”, their name for a ghost. I tried to greet a group of about 5 kids and two of them started crying and the rest ran away. Geez, I hope I didn’t give them nightmares. They are still wondering if I had lost my blood, or was I sick or was I a monster? A couple of weeks ago, a small child asked me what color my blood was. I wish I could assure her that not only is everyone’s blood is red; we all share the same blood regardless of our skin color.

Istanbul, Turkey...Home of the Turkish Carpet

Istanbul was never really on my list of places to see before I die and now I am wondering why. I am only here by happenstance....thanks to the generous donation of United miles from my friend Beverly, I am flying to Nairobi via Istnabul this time. It seemed like too good an opportunity to pass up, so I arranged to stay for a couple of days to sightsee. In short, it is an astounding place and I would really love to not only come back to Istanbul again, but to tour the entire country. The history is so important to the western world. And it is wonderful to put places to all the names....Marco Polo, Constantine, Justinian, Persia, Tarsus, Epheseus, Ottoman, the list goes on. The country has been conquered and reconquered so many times, it didn't become a country in its own right until 1923! The population is 99% Muslim now, where once it was the seat of Christianity.

The city of Istanbul is very modern and westernized, a stark contrast to the dominance of Byzantine architecture. The old city streets are very narrow, winding and cobblestoned. The city sits on a small hill that overlooks the Bosphorous and the view makes it exceedingly clear why this was one of the most sought after port cities in the world, it really is a crossroads to the world.

Yesterday, I saw the Blue Mosque, famous for its interior decoration using blue tiles called "izik" tiles. The word turquoise is the French word for turkish blue and he color is ubiquitous and symbolic color in Turkey. I also visited Hagia Sofia, a church built by Justinian about 1300 years ago. Constantine built the first christian church on that location in about 300 AD, but it and another church burned down so now in its place is the Hagia Sofia. Since, for all practical purposes, no Christians live in Istanbul, it is now used as a concert hall. The huge wooden doors are said to have been made from wood brought down from the Ark on Mt. Ararat. Another set of doors were made in Tarsus, the home of the apostle Paul. The stone floors in all the mosques and churches are worn to a smooth, soft finish from so many bare feet treading on them for hundreds of years.

I also learned that flowers have particular significance in Turkey. The flower of Allah is the tulip because in Arabic script, the name Allah resembles a tulip. The rose is the flower of the Prophet Mohamed. These flowers are growing all over the city and not only make the city scenically beautiful, but also integrate faith into the residents' daily lives.

I love hearing the call for prayer all throughout the day. Live muezzins have been replaced by recordings broadcast over loudspeakers, but the calls from every mosque are synchronized and penetrate the city noises. The final call for prayer is timed with sundown and as a result, changes each day. Kakamega, where I live in Kenya, is located on the equator which means sundown never changes and therefore, the call for prayers from the mosque there remains constant all year.

My guide said she frequently is asked the question about how Turkish people feel about Americans. Thankfully, the people here have separated the Bush political choices from the American people's integrity and don't hold the average American responsible for the chaos we've created in the middle east nor do they beleive we see Muslims as part of the axis of evil. In my short experience here, I've found the people extremely friendly and accomodating and the men are respectful of women. In the city, all the women wear pants and I've only seen a few women in burkha. Fundamentalist Islamic women who do wear pants, also wear beautifully patterned headscarves and the current fashion seems to be to wear a type of belted raincoat over their clothes.

Finally, this is a city of COMMERCE. From its inception, tourism and trade have been the industries of Istanbul and there are shops and shops and shops everywhere. They are selling carpets, jewelry, leather coats, blue beads, belly dancing costumes, pillows, spices, tea, antiques, books, lamps, pashmina shawls, silk scarves, handbags, spinning tops, wooden flutes, hookahs, and of course the list could go on for pages. How in the heck do these people sell all these things???? Wait, this is a port city and that means cruise ships! Can you imagine people getting off cruise ships in 495 AD and coming to Istanbul to shop? I am pretty sure it happened. Marco Pollo was probably the first guy ever to shop till he dropped...