Chicken #1 has two new friends

We visited several more JOP girls’ homes in the villages today. I felt like my Granny Yates must have in 1865 crossing the prairie in a covered wagon. Yesterday it rained heavily and there were mud holes and lakes in quite a few spots on the road. On our way to the villages we passed some mysterious shops…there was the Long Wait Shop, across the street from The Salvage Hotel and next to the Victorious Butcher.

As you can see, chicken #1 has two new friends. The generosity of people who have so little is simply overwhelming. Chickens that are kept by rural families represent money in the bank and are not for eating. In case of an emergency, the family will be able to sell the chicken for cash to pay unexpected expenses. That makes giving a chicken a pretty big sacrifice.

Today, we visited one of the poorest families I have met in Kenya. It was almost more than I could bear. Mwanaidi’s father, who is about 35 years old, recently had a stroke. He is almost completely paralyzed and unable to speak. He used to be a mnamba, one of the guys responsible for drumming up business for the matatu taxis. He has 2 wives and 10 children plus his mother to support and there is literally no money. The mom and 5 children live in a one room mud walled house by the side of the road. It’s furnished with a wooden couch and a single mattress in the corner covered by mosquito netting. The grown children sleep on burlap bags on the concrete floor. Every single piece of clothing they were wearing was torn and ripped.

6 moths ago, the mother gave birth to twins. Carolina was significantly smaller than average but she was able to sit up on her own. She was running a high fever but otherwise looked like she was thriving. The little boy, Hussein, was the size of a one month old baby and he was very very sick, he could barely cry he was so weak. They have no money for a doctor or medication. Most likely the baby will die soon. Incredibly, in spite of all these hardships, the mother seemed happy and never complained about her difficulties.

Every one of these families has experienced bad luck. It seems like they just get on their feet and another tragic incident arrives on their doorstep. Sepeta’s father drove a tractor for the sugar cane factory. While working one day, it turned over and broke his left arm to pieces. He was employed as a “casual worker” and therefore no one was responsible for his medical bills. He told us that he feels very lucky that he is alive and believes that the accident meant that God must have another plan for him. Our JOP girl is in actuality his niece, both of her parents died of AIDS. She is one among 6 or 7 other orphaned children he and his wife have raised in addition to their own children.

When we hear the statistic regarding how people in Kenya live on $1 a day, it can be very misleading. Most Kenyans have enough land to grow maize and vegetables to feed their families, even if it is very little. What they lack is a way to generate the $1 a day they need to buy other essentials like soap, lard, tea, sugar and to pay doctor bills. So were pleased to see that, when we visited their homes, many families have taken the information they learned at the JOP parents’ training camps very seriously and have implemented the new ideas. 2 families have planted passion fruit that can be sold as a cash crop. The 17 year old girl who acts as Bridgette’s “stepmother” learned to roast peanuts and sold them at the market.

So, happily, Just One Person is making a small difference somehow. It is a much bigger dream than we originally envisioned.

Our programs not only support the girls in school, but we are also working to change the beliefs and traditions within Kenyan families that are obstacles to their achieving self sufficiency. So while it is difficult to seemingly ignore the dire circumstances that people must live with, our Kenyan partners and I believe that our resources must go to projects that will ultimately help people feed, clothe and education their families. Knowledge and encouragement are valuable contributions to the JOP young women and their families. It brings the gift of self esteem and self reliance to people who have, by relying on foreign aid, come to believe they are not able to do for themselves. We hope that as time passes, our JOP girls and their families will start to believe that “yote yawazekana”….everything is possible.

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...

Food

4/25/08

I give up. I want green chile enchiladas, I want pizza, I want steak, I want ice cream……The list is endless. People always ask what I eat in Kenya. The answer is pretty much the same thing day after day. Because Kenya was a British colony, the food is distinctly British. Chicken and tilapia are the only meat I eat, and with rice or French fries. Everything is bland, without spices. Most meals include ugali, the Kenyan’s favorite food. It is made from corn flour and water boiled together until it forms a type of a dense dumpling. It doesn’t have any taste to me and its main purpose is to fill your stomach. It is always accompanied by the staple Kenyan vegetable which is called sukuma wiki, or kale as we know it. I never realized before living in Kenya how much I like being able to choose something different to eat every day and how much I look forward to eating. For people here, meals are just a function of life and don’t have any other significance. I want tortilla chips, I want strawberries, I want…….

My brother Greg asked me once why I want to go back to Kenya. I guess it is like participating in a marathon or an Outward Bound course. It is a personal challenge to adapt and learn about living in a culture so different from ours and I feel that I grow as a person every time I am here. Having backpacked and camped for all my life has been the best preparation for coping with the inconveniences of the living conditions. Nothing has prepared me for learning to relate and communicate in a culture that is so different form ours. It is a challenge I face every day. This week I have visited a couple of places where, literally, the children have never seen a white person or even the image of a white person. They get so excited, I can hear them shouting to the other children, “come and see, there is a white person”. They all crowd around to shake my hand and greet me in the Kenyan fashion. Some of the children are too frightened and just stand back and stare at me. They are all very very poor. They are wearing tattered, dirty clothes from playing in the dirt, and none of them wear shoes. There is garbage disposed of everywhere and the houses are long concrete blocks with rooms on either side of an indoor hallway. Each family of 6,8,10 people lives in one room. The children will live their entire life in an area of about 3 square blocks.

As always, I am plagued by doubt if there is any big enough and long lasting solution for fighting poverty. It is like digging a hole in the sand, the hole gets to a certain depth, and then the side of the hole collapses and the sand falls back in again. My friend and mentor, Peter Ingosi, has dedicated his whole life to working on solutions here. He inspires me to be focused on doing what I can and hanging on to the faith that it will make a difference. That is when I repeat to myself for the millionth time, if I can help just one person then I will have succeeded.

No electricity and no water

No electricity and no water. People sigh and say, “Yes, the water is a problem”. The dogs are even howling in the daytime. I am hurrying to get this written before my computer battery dies. I might have to resort to writing by hand…..

There has actually been no water in the town of Kakamega since I arrived. The people I am renting from have been either bringing water from somewhere, I think probably from the river near town because it looks cloudy, or saving rain water. However, today, there is not even water in the storage containers. The down side is that we are using the outdoor pit latrine because there is no water to service the inside toilet…

Several people have complained that they are still getting bills from the water company and are expected to pay. The rumor circulating is that the water company owes the electric company 14 million shillings (60 shillings for $1, you do the math) for its services, so the electric company has shut off the power until the bill is paid. That means that even the management at the power company doesn’t have water in their own houses. When it rains cats and dogs, which is does frequently as Kakamega is located on the edge of a rain forest; everyone rushes outside with collection containers to save water. The unfortunate thing is that studies done here have shown that the rainwater is impure and not safe to drink, so people get sick from using it if they don’t purify it first. Yesterday’s paper reported 11 cases of cholera and there is serious concern about an outbreak. Don’t worry; mzungus drink Dasani, the only sure source of pure water here.

I’ve developed a great system for bathing in a skimpy 2 gallons of water in a plastic basin. I lather my hair, get myself wet, soap up, rinse off with a washrag, pour some refreshing water over my head and rinse my hair. Oh, and then I wash my underwear. The laundry ladies here do not do underwear. Anyway, when I take a bath, I realize how much water we waste in the US taking those long luxurious showers. But man I sure miss the shower and I don’t think I will be converting to the bath in a basin method anytime soon.

The reality is that everyday life in Kenya takes time and planning, it is sprinkled with inconvenience and uncertainties, and requires flexibility and a make do spirit. The simple fact that people here live without the expectation that things will go smoothly or be easy results in a pace of life that is so relaxed and people centered. The genuine stress that plagues poor Kenyans is generated by the struggle to earn enough small money each and every day to feed and educate their families.

I guess my rhetorical question is this; if we have enough money in the US to eat and educate our children, why are we so stressed?

Kenya observer

Today I love living in Kenya (not all days are like that). I’m travelling to Kisumu by matatu this morning. The matatu Nissan van is equipped with 14 seats for passengers, but it’s not officially full until there are 20 or 21 people crammed in, the unlucky passengers have to crouch between the seats in the narrow aisle. Boarding schools started their school break today so there are herds of girls in groups trying to catch a matatu home to their villages. Each girl is wearing a school uniform that identifies her as a student of that school. The uniforms are an array of colors, bright blue, forest green, gray, brown and maroon. They are wearing a white blouse, sweater or sweater vest, skirt, white anklets and black shoes. Some are required to wear ties. All have a number 2 haircut as required by the schools.

Really, I can’t emphasize enough the terrible conditions of the road between Kakamega and Kisumu. The potholes are so numerous and deep that it looks like it has been bombed. The matatus customarily drive very fast, not only so they can get to their destination and pick up another load of paying passengers, but also because the widespread belief is that by driving fast, the vehicle just skims over the holes and causes less wear and tear on the car. The whole matatu rattles and sways. The window next to me doesn’t latch and regularly rattles open so I hold it shut. Thank God for the numerous speed bumps that have been installed. We speed up to them, put on the brakes, crawl over them and then accelerate until the next one we encounter. I think riding matatus in Kenya has taught me more about not being in control than any other experience in my life. A day you arrive safely in a matatu is a good day.

Today there are numerous police check stations. The first few we breeze past with just a small bribe to the police officer for our infraction of the rules. But we are halted at a check station that is manned by two women police officers who mean business. On of them surveys the crowded matatu and begins ordering the extra passengers off, insisting that they catch the next matatu coming along. She grills the driver, asks to see his license and they move off to the side to discuss business. Shortly, the police officer returns and orders everybody out of the vehicle, announcing that this vehicle is under arrest. Uttering a weak protest, the passengers climb out and we stand by the side of the road, wondering how we are going to get a ride with all the matatus stuffed to the gills. The driver is arguing his case vehemently with the police officer across the road and after a few minutes, heads back to the matatu, tells us to get back in and we continue on our way. Apparently this particular police officer was holding out for something much bigger than “something small”, which is the customary price of a bribe. It is inexplicable, the matatu conductor will be forced the next run to take excess passengers to make up for the cost of the bribe, perpetuating unsafe travel conditions on the Kenyan roads.

Travelling Kenyan highways in the morning means being a spectator of the entire gamut of Kenyan lives. People simply live, work, play and socialize their lives outdoors and in public. Here is what I see:

-unaccompanied young children in groups of 3 or 4 walking on the dirt path along side the road, the oldest, about 8 years old, is carrying an infant on his back

-mamas in the traditional village dress, the kanga, carrying bundles of just about everything on their heads

- men digging holes by hand

-women hoeing fields of maize, potatoes, sugar cane

-vendor’s wooden stalls mile after mile, selling every type of commodity; tomatoes, onion, potatoes, mitumba, household goods, tea, sugar, cheap watches, hats, single bic pens, coffins

-hundreds of idle boda boda drivers

-people repairing bikes, tires, cars, motor bikes, shoes

-people sitting, people leaning, people laying on the ground, people walking on paths that have been worn into the countryside for generation after generation

There are crops growing in every clearing. It’s a hard thing for me to get my head around. As Americans, we have lived in our country for less than 500 years. The Kenyans have been depending on this land for thousands of years to provide for them and yet, it still continues to sustain them, a verdant green ecosystem that supports people, cows, goats, sheep, pigs, chicken, dogs, cats and multiple types of trees, birds and plants. The uninterrupted connection to the land over eons is the undeniable birthright of every Kenyan, defining their place in the world. If I were a Kenyan with such deeply planted roots in this land, I would ferociously defend my claim to it.

two blogs for the price of one

There is a chatty blog right below the one describing my girls program.

girl power clubs

Girls in rural Kenya lack places to gather together, the time to meet with friends and role models to talk about and explore issues that are important to them. In rural Africa, social isolation is a burden that prevents girls from learning about and discovering ways they can improve their lives.

Beginning as early as age 8, girls in Kenya assume a major responsibility for domestic chores. If they are lucky enough to attend school, they are still working at a full time job at home. They get up early to perform chores and help get younger siblings get ready for the day. After school, they have more chores and their last priority at night is completing their school work. Many girls are so tired at school that they have difficulty concentrating. Only 54% of Kenyan girls entering secondary school actually complete their education.

In partnership with local secondary schools and community based organizations, Just One Person is creating “Girl Power clubhouses” throughout Western Kenya. Here, girls meet, receive the support they need to attend and complete high school and learn about new opportunities that will empower them to become active participants in redefining the role of women in Kenyan society. Community women who have achieved success in nontraditional ways visit our clubhouses, share their stories and inspire girls to complete high school and pursue post secondary prospects.

Just One Person equips Girl Power clubhouses with computers and internet access, providing members with access to Information and Computer Technology and formal computer training. In addition, through projects like our “Girl Power” on line magazine, girls can share their stories with Girl Power members at other clubhouses and with interested American high school girls. Along with providing incentives for improving academic performance in science and math, these girls will be better prepared to compete for high tech jobs in the developing Kenyan economy.

Girl Power members also take part in outreach activities in their communities. During school breaks, the girls might volunteer to help clean and paint a school or organize an arts and crafts day at an orphanage. In turn, the local communities contribute to the sustainability of each clubhouse by supporting the program through fundraising and through financial support from those members who have graduated from the program and return as alumni to continue to participate as role models and mentors.

Although there are no tuition fees for secondary education, with assistance from our donors, Just One Person and our local partners award annual scholarships to qualified members on merit. Scholarships help pay for additional expenses such as uniforms, textbooks, shoes, transportation to and from school, supplies and lunch.

Girls in Africa face other challenges as well. The lack of access to clean toilets and sanitary napkins causes girls to miss an average of 3 school days per month, often negatively affecting their academic achievement. Many families in rural areas literally must choose between food and sanitary napkins for their daughters. The simple act of supplying sanitary napkins to girls through the Just One Person project boosts girls’ self confidence and empowers them to excel at school.

There are many reasons educating girls in Africa is a good idea. Studies by the World Bank show that by increasing the share of women completing secondary education by 1 percentage point can boost the annual per capita income growth in a developing country by 0.3 percent on average. Girls’ secondary education reduces infant mortality, increases childhood immunization and nutrition, lowers fertility rates and unwanted pregnancies, and significantly reduces the rate of HIV infections.

However, at Just One Person, we believe that the most important reason for our program is the human connection we share with people in developing countries who are struggling to improve their lives. We know that we can’t save the world. Our mission is to create opportunities for caring members in our communities to reach out in a personal and meaningful way and help just one person.

I jumped on my magic carpet and arrived back in Kenya. Every time I make the trip, I marvel at how easy it is to be in a different world in such a short period of time. However, having come so many times now, I am really starting to feel like everything is normal here. Fewer things are a mystery to me and some things are a comfort to me. It is probably made easier by the fact that I am renting a room from a family in a nice, by Kenyan standards, house.

The people I am living with both work for the provincial government so they are very well off. The woman is the only female veteranarian in Kakamega and her husband is an agricultural researcher. Various people live in the house and I am still trying to sort them out. Kenyan families are very fluid. There are 4 children, some of which are at boarding school and will be home during school break. The youngest child, John, who is about 2 1/2 is affected by cerebral palsy, which is a funny coincidence, being that our youngest granddaughter, Bailey is also affected by cerebral palsy. There are a couple of "housegirls" and a sister of the wife, who is deaf, providing me an opportunity to learn some sign. From time to time, there are some old Luhya mamas here who must be relatives from the village. Hospitality is very generous in Kenya and a fact of life.

I am working like crazy to develop my programs for the short time I am here. The first one, Just One Person, is a girls empowerment group, for which I have included a description of our project to give everyone a better sense of what we are doing. We have hired my colleague and good friend, Peter Ingosi, to be the program director. His experience at working in Kenya is absolutely invaluable. All of our good ideas would not be possible without his guidance. We will also be hiring a woman to be the program coordinator.

My other project is the group of entrepreneurs that was formed by micro finance clients I worked with before. We are working to set up some type of manufacturing enterprise that will result in a bigger business than is possible by each of them working independently and that will ultimately create employment here in Kakamega. They may have a chance to work with a Chico based company called Chico Bag, a manufacturer of reusable shopping bags. It seems like a perfect fit and I am hoping things work out.

I have spent the last couple of days renewing my friendships here and learning about "the post election chaos", Everyone comments that it was startling how quickly things descended into violence. There was a community of Kikuyu (the opposite side from the Luhya) in Kakamega so there was the burning of houses and physical violence for a short period. Apparently, people were confined to their houses, without the ability to buy airtime for their phones or food. The local Kikuyus are now camping as displaced persons on the grounds of the police station. There is still some anxiety here, but it seems like for the most part, things have returned to normal, aside from high inflation of prices resulting from a disorganized economy.

In any event, above is a description of what we hope to accomplish with our girls project. Once again, I feel so fortunate to have found at this time of my life, a work of passion.

Poverty has a face

November 10, 2007

Never have I felt so far from my world as I am today. And I just now ran away to a place called Shewe Guest House, the most upscale hotel in Kakamega. I am sitting in a banda, overlooking a peaceful green valley. From the town, I can hear the politicians speaking and people cheering for them. But that is another story.

Since I first came to Kenya, I’ve lived in Kakamega for the equivalent of 8 months. Kakamega is a very poor town, even though is in the midst of an active agricultural area and is a commercial center. I’ve been working with micro finance clients who are generally not the lowest on what is called the pyramid of poverty. My meetings with clients are held at central meeting places which have limited my experience of what their lives are like. I’ve also been invited to people’s homes in Kakamega but surprisingly those houses didn’t match my preconceived notion of their living conditions. Those people live in permanent houses with cement walls and cement floors. They were sparsely furnished, but the family lived comfortably by Kenyan standards.

Last night, that changed. The picture is Faith and Junior. When I lived in a part of town called Koromatangi, these children lived along the road where I walked to and from town everyday. Their house on the road was a one room mud walled hut with a dirt floor. I was never invited in, but from the door I could see that there were no furnishings in the house. Really, like most all little kids on the lane, Faith and Junior were always excited to greet the mzungus who lived in their neighborhood. But Junior was especially enthusiastic. He’d wait in the road in front of his house at the time he knew I would be walking home, and from way down the road I could hear him shout, Mzungu, Mzungu! Then, as I got closer, he would run and jump into my arms, sometimes stumbling along with his pants falling down around his knees. He was indomitable. When Bob visited, he and Junior became good buddies. I think he was drawn to Bob because of the curly white hair and Bob’s crazy laugh. Bob loved Junior’s spunk, often he had just gotten in trouble for doing something mischievous. Ultimately, Bob and I decided that we would like to provide financial support for these children to attend a private primary school. In Africa, investing in a child’s education is one of the only effective ways to help him to find a better life as an adult. School tuition, uniforms, transportation, lunch and books and paper cost $375 per year for each child. I really don’t know why we chose these particular children over the hundreds of other children like them. In Kenya people would say that we had been sent by God in response to their prayers.

Yesterday, I visited their house. In an informal way, our financial support has made me the “shosho” or grandmother of the house. Mama ya Faith met me at the road to escort me to the house. She looked so young; she must be about 21 or 22 years old. She has three children, Faith is the oldest and she is about 4.

At the house, I met poverty face to face. This family of five live in a one room house that is approximately 8 feet by 14 feet. The room is divided in half by a sheet hanging from the ceiling. The sitting room has two or three chairs and a coffee table. The second “room” contains a bed in which all five people sleep and where they store what few things they own. There is no electricity.

Every child in the neighborhood greeted me in the yard. I brought my camera and they loved it when I took their pictures and they could see them on the monitor. There were so many little hands grabbing at me and so many unattended snotty noses.

Mama ya Faith sent one of the kids to buy a coke for me. Conversation was difficult, she spoke broken English and I spoke bad Kiswahili, but the welcome was genuine. Shortly, baba ya junior came home. I had never met Joseph before and at that moment; the reality of everything hit me. The dad is very sick and if I am guessing right, he is severely affected with AIDS. His eyes were sunken and he was gaunt. When it got dark in the house, they sent one of the children to buy about 12 cents worth of kerosene for the lantern.

Even living here, until I experienced it, I was hanging on to my idealized view of poverty. It’s disheartening and discouraging. I want to save everyone. But, in reality, even Bill Gates can’t provide for them.

My good friend, Peter Ingosi, who has been my mentor and teacher in Kakamega has told me a thousand times that the “way forward” is not by giving people money. Until yesterday, I’ve always been halfway skeptical of this advise. He’d tell me that ultimately, they have food for today, but nothing else. I had to meet poverty at Faith and Junior’s house to finally understand his advice. Right now, there are no jobs and no hope for people in Kakamega. Foreign aid has a choice, we can feed the people for one day or we can use our resources to help them build industries that will provide jobs to feed them tomorrow and the next day.

You know what, it is an overwhelming job. Sometimes I want to give up and turn away just like I am doing today as I sit here on the Veranda of Shewe Guest House. I want to pretend that somehow people will manage because they have for hundreds of years. But, it is getting harder for me to ignore that in my time and place, I have been more than fortunate. All of my problems together don’t measure up to the struggle Africans face when they have the perseverance to get up every morning and find a way to make it through another day. Words sound so corny and inadequate in trying to tell this story. I just hope that sharing my experience will help people understand at some level that it is so important that we keep trying, because the people here are not giving up, they have no other choice.

FAMILY LIFE IN KAKAMEGA

I woke up feeling gray today. Not on my head, but in spirit. The weather here has been very rainy, people say it is due to global warming. It is supposed to be summer here, but it has rained every day and night for the last couple of weeks. And I mean rain, it absolutely pours down cats and dogs. It makes traveling around town very challenging. Balancing an umbrella while riding on a boda boda is a practiced skill, and then the umbrella doesn't totally protect me so I end up soaking wet when I get where I am going. Believe it or not, it is a little bit cold as well, jacket weather. It is just not what you expect in equatorial Africa.

In any event, I was invited to the home of my friend Evelyn Buhenza last night for tea. She lives in a permanent two bedroom house with about 10 or 12 members of her family. The house doesn't have electricity. The kitchen is a small shack behind the house where the mama cooks over a fire and the tradition 3 stones. the goat pen also shares the kitchen. Goat milk is rumored to be very nutritious especially for people with HIV. Their are also some chickens who live in the house with their chicks so that they are out of weather and more likely to survive. Evelyn is my friend who is HIV positive and has herpes xoster which is a large brown growth on the left side of her face. It is painful, it semi paralyzes her face and she has lost all of her teeth on the left side as a result of it. She is taking ARV which is very successful in keeping the virus from progressing However there are side effects like the stomach ulcers she has.

Evelyn has been lucky that her family has welcomed her back after her husband died of AIDS and she tested positive. The stigma is so high here that most HIV positive people are left to manage on their on. However, Evelyn has joined another woman here who has publicly acknowleged that they are HIV positive and have become active advocates for overcoming stigma and inspiring other HIV positive people to seek ARV treatment and to find ways to live positively while looking toward the future. As many of you know, Evelyn has returned to school to get a degree in social services and i have raised a small amount of money from people in Chico to assist her with the tuition. I really respect and admire her and am happy to be able to support her work. She has told me that when she tested positive she felt like she has received a death sentence and that her family felt like they were living with a dead person. But now she has so many opportunities and is so enthusiastic about her work and her goals for the future.

My greyness disappeared after meeting with her at her school this morning. She has to be extremely brave because as we walked down the street, people openly stared at her and her face. I am uncomfortable being stared out because I am white, but people here believe that a person with HIV has somehow done something immoral so her reception is for the most part very distant. I've realized how far we've come in the US since the Ryan White case.

She is also one of the rare women feminists in Kakamega. Women have traditionally held an inferior position here. Sincerely their only option was to get married early so that they did not remain a burden to her parents. The Luyha tribe, where I live, still pay dowries. Funny enough, when people die here they are buried in the family plot inside the shamba or boma. But if a woman dies without getting married and her husband dies and she doesn't remarry, she is buried outside the boma, usually at a place far away. She was also telling me about women and children outside of marriage. It's required that the woman name a father on the a birth certificate. If she doesn't know the father, she is forced to name someone. Then , the man's parents are entitled to come and take the child to raise. However, if the family doesn't believe the man is actually the father, they will take the child but most likely the child won't survive.

Those sound like terrible stories, but ultimately, it is all about a scarcity of resources. People do what they have to do to survive and to keep their families going. These are such hard concepts for me to understand and I try my best to not make any judgements because, I have never been faced with those choices. I imagine it will take more than one or two generations to make the changes that Evelyn and those few other women are stuggling for.

POLITICS IN KENYA

This is an election year in Kenya. The president serves for 5 years and can be elected to office twice. The current president, Kibaki, is running for reelection.

Kenya gained indepence from the British in 1963, so they haven't been participating in government for very long. It is unbelievably interesting to watch the process that we must have gone through a couple of hundred years ago. The first president was kenyatta, he was highly respected and got the country off to a good start. Then, in 1981, i think, Daniel Arape Moi took power and ruled until 5 years ago. Moi was totally corrupt and almost bankrupted the country while doing nothing for the people. He neglected all the infrastructure so badly that i think it will take 20 years for Kenya to catch up, even under the assumption that the government will honestly allocate money for the projects. The worst and biggest hurdles to economic development is the roads. The roads make it almost impossible to get raw materials to and from places and to get finished goods to market. The other day I took a matatu to a town called Kericho, which is the tea capital of the country. The road was so bad that the cars have simply driven off the side of the road and made a new dirt road. it was literally four wheel driving the whole way. and of course, the driver drove mostly 80 miles an hour except for the really bad potholes. as we say, any day you get somewhere safely in the matatu is a good day.

anyway, all the politicians(they are called aspirants) who are running for office are now campaigning around the country and the people are talking about nothing except the elections. It is Kibaki(a kikuyu) against Raila Odinga(a luo). Kibaki is for the status quo, which is to keep all power in Nairobi and manage in a top down approach. Raila is supporting a radical idea which is to transfer power to the provinces and let them decide how to use their taxes and natural resources best. Unfortunately, the majority of the people in the rural areas are not well educated about government and are easily swayed by who gives the best t-shirt at the rally. in addition, no matter who gets elected, managing resources in kenya is all about taking care of your own. first priority is your extended family, then your tribe, then your community. It has been that way for hundreds of generations and i sincerely don't know if it will ever change. i think there is a growing population of young people who would like to see change, but they are swimming against the current.

Yesterday at the Golf Hotel, one of the "American" hotels in town there was a big rally. i was eating lunch there and watching the dynamics of the goings on. There were quite a few well dressed men who exuded an air of importance who i took to be the candidates and their staff. Their was a canopy set up on the lawn and all the seats there were filled with men. There interstingly enough, a section of chairs outside the tent where the women sat. The rally started with a long prayer and then, the women did some sort of welcoming song for the cadidate. After that, it was a speech that could be heard by any candidate in any country.

However, in spite of the exclusion of the women by the general audience, there are several women who are running for office all over Kenya. The unfortunate thing is that, every day in the newspaper, there are stories about those women getting beaten up. It is condemned by the press, but of course, the people in the rural areas who are participating in this do not frequently read the papers. it is definitely a slow going and painful process of political reform.

I wish I was going to be here for the elections which are held in December. The energy of the town has really picked up with all the activity and i imagine things will really start to get interesting. My prediction is that Kibaki will triumph. In my experience, Kenyans are slow to accept change and prefer to hope that the current situation will improve, rather than risk the unknown.

My Humble Abode

10/29/07

While in Nairobi last week, I took some time to see some of the sights around. Since I have been coming to Kenya, the only thing I have ever seen in Nairobi was the airport and downtown. So, I hired a taxi driver to show me around for a few hours. Solomon gives tours like this often and was an old hat. We first visited the animal orphanage at the Nairobi National Park which, believe it or not, is on the outskirts of the town. There is an animal orphanage that takes animals brought in from the bush by wildlife officers. The animals are not released back into the wild but live out there lives there. There were many lion cubs and several adult lions, a cheetah and a leopard. The most enjoyable part of the experience was that there were several nusery school field trips there and to watch those 3 and 4 year olds and their excitement at seeing these animals was so fun. They all were wearing the standard school uniform of shorts(boys)skirts(girls)white shirts and sweater. The schools are differentiated by color, red, green, maroom, blue, etc. After, we visited a giraffe sanctuary housing 14 giraffes. Did you know there are 3 different species of giraffes distinguishable by the patterns on their bodies, and if their pattern extends all the way down their legs. Visitors stood on a feeding platform and fed the beggars pellets. Giraffes have black rough tongues like a cat, but they are about a foot long so their tongue snakes out of their mouth and grabs the pellets out of the palm of your hand. They were pretty demanding to be fed and at one point, one of the more dominant giraffes swung her neck and head butted a woman standing there unaware. It was a really hard blow and the woman was shaken up. The attending volunteer remarked that "we have a sign warning about head butting". One is expected to use common sense and personal responsibility in Africa. And people here know that accidents happen.

After that, Solomon told me he would drop me for lunch and we proceeded to drive to the ultra rich ultra white part of Nairobi called Karen. The area is of course where Karen Blixen, the author of "Out of Africa" lived. We went to the Karen Country Club and I had a delicious vegetable crepes with creme sauce lunch. I felt transported by scotty to another planet after having lived all my time here in Kakamega. The homes in this area are absolutely monstrous, probably averaging between 4,000 and 6,000 square feet, all of them with separate servants quarters. These are the remants of the white colonial Kenyans. I just couldn't help wondering why the hell these rich white Kenyans weren't pitching in to assist in the development of the impoverished rural areas in Kenya. OH well, who said life was supposed to be fair. Oddly enough, on the return trip, about 1 mile from Karen, you see the immense shanty town slum famous in Nairobi called Kibera.

Silly me, a couple of days ago I found out that my hotel room does have hot water! Well actually it is warm water, but alot easier to start the day with than cold water. There is a small switch on the bathroom wall that turns off and on the water heater. Wonders never cease. Downstairs there is a restaurant and bar and last night was the big football match between the English premier league teams, Arsenal(1/2 of Kakamega mens chosen team) and Liverpool. The other 1/2 of Kakamega cheers for Mann U. I could follow the game from my room by the sounds of quiet or the sounds of cheering from below. When the game was tied near the end of the game, the fans went crazy with happiness, whistling, cheering, clapping for a period of about 5 minutes. The identify so completely with their english team. I guess the game ended in a draw but Arsenal remains as the league leader. That is all you can hear being discussed by all the guys in town today.

Finally, a word about Kenyan words. The Kenyans speak British English and have a much bigger vocabulary than we do as lazy Americans. So when I am here I almost have to learn to speak another language called English. You'd be surprised at how difficult it is to always try to be articulate when you are talking. They also have a british/kenyan accent and use many british/kenyan phrases that it can sometimes require thinking about. Rather than having a baby, they say "she got a baby", rather than me too, they say "same same to me" rather than saying I live in that direction, they say "I live the other side". I am always wondering the other side of what? The list of unique phrases is quite long and it is my intention to develop a phrase book to help other clueless mzungus to communicate with Kenyans.

So for now, god bless you, good night and it will be ok.

P.S. Here are some makeshift pictures of my hotel room. The one is of my underwear drying on the balcony. It is considered very rude to let someone wash your underwear or to even see it drying on the line, so i have to do the washing in a bucket in my room.

Settling In

10/21/07

I am sitting watching the sun set over Lake Victoria in the city of Kisumu and listening the children play in the pool five floors down. They let people bring their children to swim on Sundays. I think the hotel management feel like if they have a pool, they might as well let someone use it. I am staying on the 5^th floor, which is actually called the 4^th floor, and the elevator is not working. In reality, until not too long ago, elevators were a real luxury here and so everyone is quite accustomed to running up and down the stairs. Me, on the other hand, I am not so anxious to run down to the lobby just to get something….

On the way from Kakamega we passed two stacks of plastic green lawn chairs just sitting by the road. When I see odd things like that, which is pretty often, I always wonder about the story behind it. I came in the taxi of my friend Maloba. He is a very safe driver although the roads are literally bombed with potholes; I don’t know how their cars stay in one piece. Actually, when we got to Kisumu, Maloba’s car began having problems with the idle and it totally died every time we slowed down. We solved the problem by recruiting a couple of guys every time it stopped to give us a push so he could jump start it. Flexibility is the strength of Kenyans.

In pursuit of implementing our girls’ empowerment project, I chatted with six high school girls to get their input and ideas. Initially they were very shy, but after devouring chicken and fries, they were surprisingly open. When I asked them about what kind of topics would be interested in discussing during the meetings that are a part of the program, they gave answers like abortion, coping with stress, learning how to care for an HIV patient who was ill, and how to overcome and live with the stigma that always accompanies having a parent who is HIV positive. The typical day for these girls are to get up at 5 am and prepare some sort of food, get ready for school and depart for school at 7 am, go to school until 5 pm, travel back home for one hour, do all the household chores and complete their homework. It is staggering to think of what is expected of 15 and 16 year old girls. They also wanted some advice on how to improve their concentration in class.

Not all students in Kenya are admitted to high school. They sit for exams in the 8^th grade. Based on their marks, they are then admitted to a school for which they are eligible. There are four classes of schools, based on highest marks to lowest acceptable marks. The national schools, the provincial schools, the district schools and the harambee or community schools. The most desirable schools are of course boarding schools where they can escape the responsibilities of home, but of course they cost considerably more and even if a student is chosen, they may not be able to afford the fees.

The students sit for exams again after they complete the 12^th grade, and currently because there are so many students and not enough facilities, the universities are only accepting students who score and A- or higher. Even if the student qualifies for university, it requires a bribe of about $2000 for the student to be considered for acceptance.

According to the papers, the college admission board one of the top three most corrupt institutions in Kenya. Do we really understand how lucky we are in the US?

I also attended a meeting of the group of microfinance entrepreneurs that have come together to form a coalition with the intent of strengthening their businesses as a collective. The seriousness of the members is astounding. They have formed a registered community based organization, elected officer and adopted a constitution. The constitution outlines fines for lateness to meetings, excused absences and unexcused absences and expulsion of a member who does not regularly attend. The meetings are conducted by Roberts rules of order, except for the prayer part. Prayer is a major part of all gatherings, public or family and these people are expert prayers. There is a prayer to the opening of the meeting, before we eat our snack, and at the close of our meeting. I would guess that the praying took up about 20 minutes of the meeting. They have a strong faith in the goodness of God and rely on prayer to bond them together as a community. I am just praying they don’t ever call on me to lead the prayer….

The chairlady of the group had just experienced some bad luck. She had purchased a tree and paid someone to turn in into lumber for her, using a borrowed chain saw. Apparently, someone had been watching the goings on, and in the night, came to the house where the wood was waiting to be hauled away and stole the lumber, the chain saw and the truck being used to haul the wood. They also beat up the owner of the house so badly that he is in the hospital. She had borrowed money to buy the tree, which she could have easily paid back after the sale of the lumber, but now she has no means to repay the loan. This is a story I hear repeatedly in Kenya. Theft is so rampant here. The group members agreed by consensus that they would each be prepared by the next meeting to financially assist the woman. Helping and sharing among friends and family are an integral part of rural Kenya. There is no hesitation or doubt about the obligation of helping someone in trouble. It is the way things work, you can absolutely count on getting the same type of assistance if and when you are in need. The government doesn’t make Kenya run, the caring people of Kenya do.

I AM HAPPY TO BE BACK

I arrived in Kisumu, a town on the edge of Lake Victoria on Sunday via Kenya Airways. I decided the 80 bucks was worth it over a 9 hour very very very bumpy ride from Nairobi to Kakamega. Kakamega is a one hour taxi or matatu ride north of Kisumu. You actually travel a whole world away, from the third largest city in Kenya to a very rural town of Kakamega. While I am here for 5 weeks, rather than staying in an apartment, I am residing at the Ambwere Alliance hotel. It is actually nicer than I anticipated for about $7 per day. It has a balcony, a nice bed, it's very clean and has a sit down toilet with 1/2 of a toilet seat, the back half. The room is painted like every room I've ever been seen in Kenya, the bottom half is painted turquoise blue and the top half is painted pale yellow. I am really curious about the meaning behind the color scheme. My first night here I ate in the dining room. The ubiquitous black and white tv was on, showing a Japanese movie with English subtitles, the sound was turned down because the radio was blaring over the loud speaker. The building is of course constructed of concrete and has large, high halls. In the morning I am woken by the usual African sounds, the roosters, the boda boda bells, the chatter of people working and a treat, the maid singing swhaili hymns as she works.

However, cold water is not part of the deal. There is a low pressure shower head, but taking a cold shower requires bracing myself. For shower shoes, they provide a pair of mismatched blue and red thongs(flip flops, not underwear)

I've seen so many people I know and they once again have been very welcoming. I have discovered if I walk at a slow leisurely pace people assume I am more of a mzungu resident than occasional visitor, plus by slowing down I recognize people I know and can be more friendly. Africans always have that stone face, but if you greet them with a smile, they bloom into really friendly people. They just look intimidating.

I am surprised how my swahili is coming back. It seems like it needs to simmer in my head during the times I am at home, and then it is there to use when I am here. The maid at the hotel doesn't speak English so I am truly forced to speak swahili, rather than be lazy and speak English. It helps that she is very patient. Children are also good to practice on.

It must be the rainy season. It has been pouring cats and dogs most days. That makes it a little more difficult to get around. Even an umbrella doesn't really help, the wind blows the rain sideways. Apparently it is not really mosquito season though and no malaria is going around, so I am keeping my fingers crossed that my malaria medicine is effective and I am going to skip that part this time.

Everyone is focused on politics right now. The presidential election is in December. The present president Kibaki is running again and another guy named Raila. The race is really against a Kikuya(Kibaki) and a Luo(Raila). Those are the two biggest tribes in Kenya. The other remaining 40 tribes are in the process of lining up with their preferred candidate. Most tribes traditionally like or dislike the one of the tribes represented, so rather than voting on an issue basis, they vote for the preferred tribe. I guess that is really not so different than the US. The Luhya, the tribe I live with, hate the Kikuyu, so they are Raila all the way. Also, there is alot of news in the paper right now of election corruption and buying votes, which is very effective for people who only eat one meal a day.

The First Normal Week

The trip to Kisumu had a hectic ending. We picked up Alicia Robb, who is the founder of the Foundation for Sustainable Development, at the Kisumu aiport and arranged for a taxi to take us to Kakamega. There were several taxis vying for the trip, so after all the drivers haggled for a while, we ended up in a pretty nice honda mini suv. however, at the last moment for some unkown reason, we had to transfer all of our stuff to a different car in which we had to hold most of our stuff on our lap. About halfway home, the car started to smoke furiously and the driver had to pull off the road, which made us all a little uneasy. He opened the hood and looked at it suspiciously, but it was clear he didn't have a clue what was wrong. He made several calls and finally arranged for another driver to come. In the meantime, it started pouring down rain, it was very hot and humid in the car while we were waiting. Another guy arrived in about 45 minutes but he was unfortunately in a double cab truck and didn't have a tarp to cover all the luggage, so we were forced to put the luggage in the front seats and four of us crammed into the back seat. Actually, three of us sat on the seat while Alicia laid on our laps. Ah, don't you just love Africa. We made it home safe, but not really sane.

The purpose of Alicia's trip was to visit several of the organizations that interns of FSD have worked with in the past. One of them is a center for handicapped children. The headmaster is great, very well educated and knowledgeable about children with special needs. In Kenya, children with special needs are thought to be sent by God to punish someone's bad acts. As a result, most children are hidden in the house or actually tied behind the house like an animal. The Center does outreach to identify and bring these children to live at the school. They seem to thrive in this environment but still it tugs at my heart to see how tough their lives are.

On a separate day, we visited shikokho high school and delivered the soccer socks and shoes. Last year, thanks to the Chico State Women's team we were able to deliver uniforms and several pair of shoes. Even though the girls team is only 6 years old, they performed very well at the district tournament last year. Believe it or not, the village of Shikokho just got electricity and they already have a computer lab that is serviced by high speed internet. It is so great, it really connects the high school students to the world. Another neat thing that has happened here is that it is possible to get internet through your phone, so our program director Peter actually can work on the internet at his house which doesn't have electricity. Thank God for Alexander Graham Bell.

After that we went to a women's group in Malinya. They are a group of widows who are hiv postive but have come together to support each other and to do community work. They met us at the gate dressed in their lavendar sateen dresses and sang and trilled to welcome us.
They also presented us with strings of tinsel as a kind of a hawiian lei. We did all the formalities and then they fed us dinner, ugali, kale, cabbage and chicken. It rained heavy in the afternoon so it was very dark in the house while we were eating, but really i can't imagine a nicer experience. I worked with some of the women at k-rep and they were very welcoming. I have seen so many people i know here, I hadn't realized how many people i had gotten acquainted with. It is a wonderful second home.

I haven't had water in my house for several days so I have come to town to buy a jerry can and water. It is so funny that in Kakamega where it rains every single day that the water is so inconsistent. People here are so accustomed to adjusting to whatever circumstances happen.

I am not in Kansas any more

After a 30 hour flight and 10 hour bus ride, I am back. Someone asked me how was Kakamega and I had to reply, it is the same as it was 10 years ago, I am sure. In some ways, the slow pace of change is very relaxing. There is comfort in knowing that I don't have to learn and adjust to very much, that I can slip back into my same routine.

People here have been more than wonderful in welcoming me back. Because I am an older white woman, which is a very rare species here, people tend to recognize me and are surprised to see that I have returned. In the next few weeks I will have a chance to visit some of the microfinance groups I worked with before and that will be great. However, I anticipate some tough times too, since many of the people had Aids and there is a distinct possibility that some may have died. I did get a chance to see one woman from the groups, who had shared her story with me last year. She is in the advance stages of AIDS and has herpesxoster on the left side of her face. This condition is like a big dark mole or wart that is progressive and actually debilitates the nerves on that side of her face. In any event, not only is having the medical problems difficult, having this disease is like wearing a scarlet A for aids. She shared with me that not only is her farming business going well, she has become certified for HIV testing and counseling as well. I am really impressed with that because so few people here with are willing to be an AIDS victim in public, instead they remain secluded until they die.

I saw our adopted children, Faith and Junior. I actually live on the same lane again, only a little further down the way. They were very cute, yelling mama Nette, mama Nette. When I picked junior up he told me in kiswahili that he is reading. They seem to love school and all the extended family is very buoyed up by the fact that they are going to school. They do have a new little brother named Peter. The guy who helps me by paying the school fees and buying the uniforms is named Peter and he is really thrilled to have a namesake. In any event, I can see that I may have to go back to work to support more than a couple of kids! There are so many children here that could use our support. While I am here I will be taking some picture and videos of children that would benefit from some support and I will share those with you when I get home.

The people I will be working with here are Peter Ingosi, the man I knew last year, and a young woman from Florida named Lillian. She is an old pro, she has been here since August. Our first group of new interns arrives on June 3rd so we are busy planning the orientation week for them. Currently, there are four interns here. This weekend we made a trip to the Kakamega Forest and spent the night. On Sunday morning, we started a hike at 4:45 am and ended up on a hill watching the sun rise over the rain forest. It was beautiful, the mist was hanging low, all the birds were making a raquet and you could hear the colobus monkeys call all around the forest. On the return trip, we actually spotted a gaboon viper crossing in the trees above us. Thank god it was little and didn't seem as dangerous as a big one would have. I still had the creeps.

We are cramming into a matatu this morning and heading to the big city of Kisumu to do some errands. Then I will know I am back, hot, crowded and dangerous. Africa in a nutshell.

This is the countryside around Kakamega. It is much greener and more pastoral than I expected to find in Kenya

This is all the partygoers stuffed into my living room. Andrew Lutomia helped corral everybody and the kids were unbelievably well behaved.

These are the winners
of the boys dance
contest. They could
really go.