Six Months and Monks

Today marks six months since I arrived in Kenya. Has it really been that long? Half a year ago I stepped off the plane, exhausted after a day and a half of flying, hoping only for a bed to sleep off my jetlag. I told myself that night I arrived that I would just take it day by day, and not think about the overwhelming amount of time I would spend away from home in an unfamiliar part of the world. Yet it seems that time is a funny thing. The months have slipped away, and now I am waking up to realize that I only have five months left in Kenya. I'm more than half way through my year.

This past weekend I stayed with the other YAVs and Phyllis at a Benedictine monastery outside of Nairobi. We had come together for a meeting to reflect on these past six months in Kenya, and to discuss plans for our remaining time here and beyond. The monastery provided the perfect setting for reflection. Situated amidst rolling green hills of forest and farmland, the place is a haven of peace right outside a fast-paced and noisy city. I appreciated the overall quietness of the place, interrupted only by bird songs in the day, and the chanting of the monks in the evening at their Vespers service. Walking around the grounds of the monastery, I came across several statues of saints, and one glorious life-sized sculpture of Jesus Christ with a crown that I thought looked like a wedding cake. Though not part of my own faith tradition, these statues were powerful and seemed familiar to me. I thought back to the visits I made as a child to another monastery with my father when we lived in Wisconsin. Sitting high up on a forested hillside, we could climb the church's steeple and look out at the surrounding countryside. The Kenyan monastery I just visited this weekend had a similar connection to nature, and a stillness that brought peace to the mind and allowed room for introspection.

In our group discussion Phyllis asked the question, what in Kenya has effected you the most, and how will this remain with you when you return home to the US? One simple example came to my mind right away when she asked us this question. I thought back to the time I was cooking with a Kenyan friend of mine and using some oil. When it ran out I went to throw away the bottle. Yet my friend stopped me, saying, 'Why are you throwing that away? Some people in my village pay 30 shillings for those bottles so that they can gather water.' It struck me then that the lifestyle I'm living is extremely different from the majority of people in this country, and probably around the world. I have long since realized that there are two different economies functioning in Kenya-- one for the wealthy, and one for everyone else. 500 shillings that some people spend on one meal at Java House restaurant could feed an entire family living in a rural village for two weeks. Here in Kenya the division is clearly visible. Yet I know that there are people living in the US that experience this same inequality in lifestyle, and that the reality of this is not only far away in some developing nation, but close to home as well.


I have had some intense experiences over the past six months of living in Kenya. Visiting places like Kibera, Africa's largest slum, and hearing people's stories of struggle and survival through my work at OAIC have opened up my eyes. With these experiences fresh in my mind, I will probably find it difficult to travel home and live life again in the US. Yet I do not want to feel guilt for myself, nor be critical of my family members and others around me for the way we live. Instead I hope to use what I've experienced in a positive way, to tell the stories I've heard, and share what I've seen in order to create awareness and bring about change.

A Woman of Faith

I am currently writing a story for OAIC's website about a lady I interviewed named Gladys Kenyani Kedogo. Gladys is a quiet lady with a gentle nature. By appearance she is a woman like any other. Yet in reality Gladys is a key female leader in her African Independent Church and has spent her life speaking out to support marginalized groups of people and to teach HIV and AIDS awareness. What is most compelling about Gladys’ story is that she has personally experienced the issues she speaks about, and her faith has survived in order to change her community for the better.

Gladys comes from a village called Tigoi in Western Kenya, the area of the country I visited over Christmas break. Since the early 1970's she has been involved in women's ministries in her Independent Church, referred to by many as "Mama Center" because she is at the center of her church’s community.

In 1995, OAIC trained Gladys as a Trainer of Trainees (TOT) to promote HIV and AIDS awareness among youth. Gladys would speak to groups in her church and in surrounding communities about the HIV virus and how to prevent its transmission. At the time, the disease was still relatively new, and there were several misconceptions and stereotypes floating around in the air. Many church communities, in particular, viewed HIV as a "curse from God" and therefore stigmatized those living with the disease. Gladys spoke out to change these views and to educate people that HIV is a virus that attacks the human immune system, and not a curse from God.

Along with some of the beliefs that her community held, there were also several traditions that Gladys' ethnic community, known as the Luhyia, practice that she realized might be responsible for the spread of HIV. Wife inheritance, for example, in which a widow is 'inherited' or remarried to her brother-in-law, causes several problems according to Gladys, one being the high risk of transmitting HIV. The practice of male circumcision also was a major factor, because the elders would often use one razor blade to circumcise all the boys in the village. Along the same lines, when a person dies in the village, it is custom to shave the heads of all the deceased's family members, and similarly the elders used one razor blade on everyone involved. Because of Gladys mission to teach about HIV awareness, she could not help but speak out about these practices that she viewed as harmful.

Gladys speaks with conviction about these challenges due to the fact that she has experienced many of the same issues personally. Ten years ago, Gladys’ husband died tragically in a road accident, leaving her as a widow with ten children to care for. When her family members requested that she go for inheritance, she refused on Christian principles. Because she had spoken out against many of her Luhyia traditions and also had refused to be inherited, the elders shunned her. To this day Gladys cannot attend circumcision ceremonies among other rituals that go on in her village, and often she must leave the village entirely when these customs are being performed.

To add to the calamity, Gladys discovered that she herself is HIV positive, after having preached awareness of the disease for the previous ten years. Despite her effort to discover how she had contracted the disease, Gladys could find no answers. She began treatment on Antiretroviral drugs (ARV's), and has managed to keep herself healthy and functioning. However, contracting the virus has seriously impacted Gladys' life. The drugs she must take are expensive, and with no income to speak of, Gladys finds it extremely difficult to feed herself, her family, and to buy the necessary medications. When she asks for assistance from her extended family members and neighbors, they reject her, saying that if she had accepted the tradition of inheritance, she would have been taken care of. She explains, “So if you go to that house, you need some salt, they say 'Why does she come here begging? Since she said God is there for her, why can't God bring for her salt or food from heaven?’ So when I don't have any money I just live in God.”

Gladys' faith has saved her from facing her life's challenges empty-handed. OAIC has also encouraged Gladys, teaching her about how to sustain herself as a victim of HIV. Staff members from OAIC trained her about certain natural medicines such as Artimesia and Maringa that boost her immune system and supplement her ARV's. OAIC also made it possible for Gladys to buy a cow, which now supports her through its produce.

A typical homestead in Western Kenya.

Looking back on her life, Gladys is proud of the work she has done because it has brought about positive changes in her village. Now more widows are standing firm, refusing the tradition of wife inheritance. The elders have also heeded Gladys' slogan 'one knife, one child' during their circumcision ceremonies, thus stemming the risk of spreading HIV. Although they still have not fully accepted Gladys back into their midst, the community has taken actions to address the risks that some of their traditions potentially cause.

Despite her various hardships in life, Gladys has not once lost her courage or her faith. It is by this faith that she continues to live each day, staying healthy and optimistic, and continuing to change her community.

Ventures in Zanzibar!

I used to believe that Zanzibar was a mythical paradise, lost somewhere in the middle of the Indian Ocean. After having just spent a week-long retreat with my YAV group on the island, I realize my stereotype of the place proved false. Zanzibar is very real, and it's one of the most vibrant and incredible places I have ever been in my life.

The waterfront in Stone Town, Zanzibar

Getting to Zanzibar is no easy feat. First my group spent sixteen hours on a bus from Nairobi to Dar-es-Salaam, Tanzania. Then from Dar we had to take a ferry twenty-five miles out into the ocean in order to reach our island destination. Yet on that particular day, the ocean was extremely rough and choppy. Giant waves rocked our tiny boat to a point where I craved to get back onto solid land. I have never been sea sick in my life. But that was something else. Needless to say, my group was exhausted when we finally reached Zanzibar and we were ready for a week of relaxation on an island in the sun.

I have had the opportunity in my life to visit many amazing places, but I would say that Zanzibar is now at the top of my list. What makes the island so interesting is its blend of African, Arabic, and European influences both historically as well as in the present day. In the old Stone Town, the island's city center and the place where my group stayed, I felt as though I could have been wandering around the streets of Paris. The narrow ally ways and huge stone churches reminded me of some European cities that I have visited. Yet the architecture was clearly Middle Eastern in character, a sign of a predominant Arabic presence throughout the island's history.

When I describe the place as vibrant, I mean that every sense tingles when you are on the island. The noisy street vendors and honking horns mixed with the unruly smells of the fish market will push you to escape the crowded streets of Stone Town and venture out into more peaceful parts of the island. Once you get away from town, you will likely find small farming villages where people grow a variety of tropical fruits. Zanzibar, both past and present, is also famous for its spice industry. My group took a tour of a spice plantation where we saw, touched, and tasted all the spices we use at home, but have never known where they come from or what they look like before being processed. Cinnamon, nutmeg, red curry, yellow curry, masala, turmeric, pepper corns, vanilla, and cloves were a few of the many spices we sampled that day. As it turns out, Zanzibar still supplies 60% of the world's cloves... who knew?

My spice collection on our spice tour

Turmeric

A spice market in town

The island's vibrancy does not end at the smells and sounds of the Stone Town, the spices, or even the gorgeous white sandy beaches on the coasts. What I think is most unique about Zanzibar is that its local community lives side by side with the throngs of outsiders who flock to Zanzibar in droves. It seemed as though most of the local people were completely genuine, and relatively unaffected by the tourist industry. My group made many connections, and several times we found ourselves being helped out by people who were not trying to con us or expect tips. This feeling was a welcomed change from Nairobi, where it is unwise to trust strangers or to accept help on the street.

A beach on the western coast of the island.

The lounge at our hostel

A cave where slave traders hid slaves when the trade became illegal at the end of the 19th century.

We made one friend in particular who still sticks out in my mind; Ernest the Rastafarian chef. We met Ernest one night when we were out on the town, and then happened to run into him again the next day. He spent the entire afternoon and evening showing us around the island and taking us to good restaurants. With his long dread locks, lazy eye, and slightly slurred speech, I never would have guessed he had studied with an Italian master chef at a school in Dar-es-Salaam. But he assured us he had, and that his dream was to one day become a master chef of his own restaurant, 'Cafe Ernesto.' He proved his artistry to us as we were having dinner with him at a local cafe. He first decided the service was too slow so he got up and went back into the kitchen to help out. When he reappeared, he came with the waiter bringing our food. Then he called out to the waiter, 'Keep it delicious. Let's go!' And they disappeared back into the kitchen again. When Ernest reappeared the second time, he had prepared mangoes beautifully on a plate for each of us, at no extra charge. The cook came out at the end of our meal and asked if Ernest could come back the next day and teach them about some of the finer arts of cooking. Very impressive.

The waterfront in Stone Town at sunset.

As I said before, Zanzibar is a truly incredible place. Its cultural and natural vibrancy, and the overall beauty of the small island off the coast of Tanzania was well worth the sixteen-hour bus ride in the end. I can't wait to go back!

New Experiences at the End of a Decade

Christmas and New Year's are over now. The holiday season has passed. A new decade is beginning, and I had a great time, though it was strange to be so far away from home.

One highlight of the holiday for me was Christmas Eve when my YAV group gathered at our friend Grace's house where we had stayed for our orientation month when we first arrived in Kenya. Being together next to a crackling fire in the fire place, listening to old 1950's-60's Christmas albums, and eating a huge feast that Grace had prepared really brought the spirit of the holiday to us in Kenya.

Christmas day spent at Phyllis' house was also a highlight, where we ate turkey, baked macaroni and cheese, and apple pie for dinner.

Christmas Eve dinner with the YAV group at Grace's house.

And finally, I just got back from a New Year's trip to visit a friend's home village in Western Kenya. That area of the country is gorgeous. The terrain is characterized by the countless tea plantations on rolling green hills, lush from the high amount of rainfall that Kenya's Western Province gets during the year. I enjoyed riding through these tea plantations with the cool wind in my hair on the back of motorcycles, which is the main mode of transportation in and out of the village. Fun!

Life in the village itself moves at a slow pace compared to crazy Nairobi. It's a pretty small community and my friend knows most of the people living there, including the owner of the village's 'hotel' (or restaurant) where we would go to eat fresh baked chapatis every morning. Because there were not many other Wazungu (white people) in the area, my presence in the village was quickly discovered. Everyone on the road or in their homes would call out inviting me in for tea or lunch as I passed.

An old woman who was picking tea.

Some kids collecting water at the village's water source.

Me climbing around some rocks on a hillside near Kigama.

Tea Leaves- One of Western Kenya's main crops.

A little boy in the village.

On one of the days I was there, my friend and I took a day trip to Kisumu, a city in the neighboring Nyanza Province, yet still not far from the village where I was staying. The city sits right on the shores of Lake Victoria, the body of water that borders on Kenya and Uganda. We spent some time on the lake shore and then in the town, where we ate lunch at a restaurant with the best chips (fries) I've had since coming to Kenya. Delightful! I enjoyed getting to explore a new city, and of course seeing the lake as well, which is one of Africa's major landmarks.

Kisumu, Nyanza Province

Me at Lake Victoria.

Now I am back in Nairobi, in the office at OAIC, getting ready for the 2010 new year. Already I have more travel plans for the near future... I'm headed to Tanzania next week for a retreat with my YAV group. We'll be in Dar-es-Salaam and then on the island of Zanzibar, just to have a relaxing get-away. So I'm not complaining at all :)

Happy and prosperous 2010!

Christmas Time in Kenya

It will be my first Christmas away from home, and I have to admit I am getting a little homesick. I miss family and friends, not to mention that the 80 degree weather here does nothing to conjure up my usual images of the holiday season--that is, of deep snow banks outside the windows, cookies baking in the oven, and a freshly cut Christmas tree glistening in the corner of our dining room.

I suppose there are a few reminders that Christmas is approaching and that the holiday season is finally here. For one, the shopping malls in Nairobi are decorated with Christmas lights. Just the other day as I was shopping at a shoe store in town, I actually saw a Kenyan Santa Clause with a fake white beard ringing a bell for charity donations. And today I walked into my office's reception room to find that Jane, the receptionist, had put up a tiny fake Christmas tree by her desk. Even so, these elements of Kenyan Christmas cheer do not compare to Christmas time back home. I was speaking to OAIC's General Secretary Rev. Nicta Lubaale the other day, and he admitted that Kenyans do not 'do Christmas the way people in the West do it.' Nicta had just arrived back from a trip to the UK, where he had seen lights lining every street and mounds of Christmas chocolate piled high in the store windows. I tried to look for Christmas chocolate the other day as I was shopping at a supermarket, but could not find one piece. There was a whole wall of chocolate candy in the store, yet none of it was decorated with little snowmen, Santa Clauses, or holiday wreaths.

Of course I was anticipating Christmas to be different here than what I have known my entire life growing up. The consumer nature of the holiday season that has developed so intricately in the West is not necessarily indigenous to other parts of the world. Even the tradition of giving gifts is not practiced nearly as much here, whereas back home people go into an annual shopping frenzy to find the perfect Christmas presents for their family and friends. Perhaps it is good for me to spend a holiday season without all the distractions of the material world. It's important to focus upon the story of the Christ child himself and how his coming reminds us to love one another, even the less privileged in society... That is all well and good, of course, but I could still use a few more ho, ho, ho's!

Maybe I am speaking too soon. I do actually have exciting holiday plans in store. My office officially closes on December 18th and reopens again next year on January 5th. This gives me ample opportunity to celebrate the season and ring in the new year! I'll spend Christmas with the other American volunteers at our site coordinator Phyllis' house (there's rumor that she might even cook a turkey!) After Christmas on Dec. 27th I'll board a bus and head to Western Kenya to visit a friend of mine at his home village near the town of Mbale. Many of my Kenyan friends that I've met here in Nairobi are originally from Western Province, so I am excited to see the area, and to escape the city for a bit of relaxation in a new setting.

I hope everyone is having a nice holiday season wherever you might be. And to my family back home, you better still hang up my Christmas stocking! I'll be with you in spirit.

Eye-Opening Experiences

These past few weeks have been intensely eye-opening for me in a number of ways.

While I've already written about my exposure to situations of severe poverty in the AIC communities I've visited so far, I feel like I am really beginning to internalize the issues that are at hand. Mainly it is the injustice that I see played out clearly in the way some people live compared to others. When visiting another women's group in a slum area of Nairobi recently, I met a lady named Radempter Masitsa who took me to see her charcoal selling business. She explained that before she had joined the group, she was unemployed and was trying to support two young children as a single mother with no income. After joining the women's group she was able to take out a small loan of Ksh 5,000 ($66.00) in order to establish her business. Yet she is still struggling to make ends meet. As I was speaking with her, I realized that the meager mounds of charcoal I saw spread out in piles on a plastic tarp was this lady's entire livelihood. The very survival of her family depended on the charcoal and if the business failed, Radempter and her children would be left with absolutely nothing. I compare this situation with some of the people living in my apartment complex who have a huge house, two big fancy cars, and maidservants who do their laundry for them every day. While I do not condemn these people I wonder, where is the justice? Why do some live with so much and others live with next to nothing? How can we even begin to address this situation of drastic inequality in the way human beings live today?

Along with the exposure to poverty, I had another type of intense experience this past weekend as I attended a 'peace' concert (of all things) at Uhuru Park in downtown Nairobi. I arrived at the park with a Kenyan friend of mine to meet up with some other friends who were already there. As we were searching for our group, I noticed a huge crowd of people gathered in one area of the park. My friend told me that the crowd had beaten up what what was probably a thief. All of a sudden the crowd began running in another direction, chasing after a second thief in a chaotic frenzy. A small group of mounted police on horseback appeared, but seemed to do nothing about controlling the angry hoards of people.

We moved to another area of the park where the 'peace' concert was going on, found our friends there, and enjoyed the Reggae music for a while. Yet the image of the angry crowd stuck in my head as I began to imagine what the 2007 post election violence must have felt like to many Kenyans for two months straight. The feeling of fear and anger in the air, witnessing atrocities occurring, and realizing that the police and other authorities have no control over the situation is a pretty awful combination. I learned later on that it was drunk university students who had smashed a vender's soda bottles and caused the raucous.

Vic and Deanna as we watched the 'peace' concert in Uhuru Park, Nairobi

While they are intense and at times disheartening, I believe that these experiences have in fact enriched my perspective of life in Kenya. I realize that I must take in the bad with the good, and hope that my work here this year will, in some small way, improve tough situations for the better.

A Ride Around Mombasa

Last week I rode on a ten-foot high camel! I've never ridden one before, and my first time could not have been in a more perfect setting: on a sun-lit beach looking out over the Indian Ocean. The only unpleasant part about the experience was when the camel knelt down to let me off at the end of the ride. I got jerked forward and back again, and I almost fell off! But I managed to hold onto the saddle, and so survived my first camel ride.

All this took place during a five-day trip to Mombasa on Kenya's east coast. I traveled there with three other co-workers from OAIC. The purpose of our journey was to visit several women and youth groups connected with our organization to see what they are doing on the ground.

Manusura Women's Group. "Manusura" translates to "survivors."

Going to Mombasa to do community development work rather than on a vacation really gave me a different perspective of the city, which is one of Kenya's major tourist destinations. The level of poverty I found in the slum areas was staggering next to the luxury of Mombasa's other areas. The rolling green hills around the city's perimeters, fancy hotels, and white sandy beaches did not fully cover up the destitution that many people who live there are facing. In the groups we visited, I heard stories about the 2007 post-election violence ravaging people's businesses and livelihoods. Young men and women in the youth groups described discovering they are HIV positive, and also being orphans having to raise their younger siblings alone.

Yet with these devastating stories there was also a feeling of hope in each group we visited. The members had come together to support one another and take action against the challenge's that poverty and destitution have placed before them. Many members of the women's groups had been able to reopen their businesses that had been so heavily impacted by the 2007-08 violence. Youth group members have also utilized their natural talents such as drama, acrobatics, dance, and singing to restrengthen their own confidence and engage with one another in a healthy, safe environment. This hope that I found in each member of the groups we visited is a testimony to the importance of community and the resilience of human beings in the face of utter desolation.

Meeting with one of the youth groups.

Some little girls in one of Mombasa's slum areas.

A private residence on Mombasa's coast

Although my trip to Mombasa might sound intense, this was not entirely the case. I had plenty of opportunity to enjoy the beautiful coastal city. Along with the camel ride, I took another ride in a sailboat out in the bay of a beautiful, palm-tree lined beach. I swam in the warm currents of the Indian ocean, and ate "nyama choma" (roasted meat) at restaurants around town. I admit that I did sweat quite a bit--Mombasa is about ten degrees hotter and more humid than Nairobi. The place actually reminded me a lot of West Africa, with an easy, laid-back feeling in the air that was a welcomed change from the hustle and bustle of Nairobi. Overall, the people I met, life-changing stories that I heard, and the unique experiences I had in Mombasa made the trip wonderful. I really look forward to traveling with OAIC to other parts of Kenya, and to other countries in Africa as well... and next up: Tanzania! Stay tuned.

Beatrice, one of my co-workers at OAIC, enjoying our sailboat ride.