Things that fit nicely into letters (I’m throwing discreet out the window here!)
• PICTURES!!! Pictures of you and I, pictures of you in beautiful places, pictures of beautiful places!!
• What else is thin and cheap to send? CD’S!!!!! Don’t go out and buy anything new, just burn me a mix of what’s hot now or some of your favorite classics. In particular, I’m really jonsin for some good jazz, blues, soul etc. don’t assume I have any artist, even the classics, because I probably don’t! Also, if anyone has a copy of Stings new cd with the lute I would love a burn. Also been hearing a lot about Angie Stone’s- The Art of Love & War Kanye West’s- Graduation. Rock on!
• What’s not so cheap to send but rocks my world?!?!!? BOOKS!!!! Again, anything-im running low. used/recycled is ideal! Would love some books on development theory and philosophy. Also just classic literature, ground breaking new authors and/or your favorite author. Again, don’t assume I’ve read it because I probably haven’t. and if I have, ill read it again! Best way to send things is in envelopes of any size. They are cheaper and actually get here pretty fast. Thanks bunches!
Monday, September 24, 2007
Saturday, September 22, 2007
To be an American…
When travelling I always scoot across borders through inspection lines, while friends with Haitian or even French passports are hulled up and questioned for hours. In hospitals here, I present a card that says I'm US Peace Corps and I get the special treatment- pushed through to the doctor, no payment necessary. But being an American is so much more than being a citizen of the most powerful country in the world(powerful at least for the moment). It’s so much more than comfort and the abundance of food and material things. We have choice. Partially a result of being raised in an environment of relative comfort, but largely because of our surroundings-we are socialized into the notion and expectation of having the power to decide. Growing up in American society choice seems innate, built in, an inalienable right to human existence-and to a certain extent you can argue that it is. Maybe what is uniquely special about being born an American is the degree of these choices. It goes beyond the glorious decisions like should we have catfish or soysauce chicken for dinner-or should we scrap the whole thing and eat out? If we choose to eat out-what type of food –Chinese Mexican, Italian, Indian, Ethiopian…(can you tell I miss food variety?!) It goes beyond this to bigger more important choices. To issues like should I send my child to elementary school? Which highschool should I attend? What about college? What should I get my degree in? I don’t really like this decently paying job I was just offered, so I think ill hold out for the next. To CHOOSE to put all of this on hold and move across the world for 2 years. Its remarkable!!!(I do understand that for many in
No matter how bad life gets for me here, I always have the choice to return to America-home. In fact, it is inevitable that I will (even though my mom still isn’t convinced). Just this fact alone sets me apart. I can try as much as I want to live as the average Kenyan, to wash my clothes by hand, to take bucket bathes, to fetch water, to eat sakumawiki and ugali. I can be miserable because Voi is relatively ugly, I'm not doing the work I wanted and I don’t have those I love most immediately near me. I can feel trapped by my determination and this 2 year commitment I have made to stay here. The thing is, I'm not really. Trapped. People here live the meaning of this word every day. For some, there isn’t the option of sending kids to school. If they do, who will walk the 3 hours to get water for the family each morning? Who will spend the 2 hours it takes to cook each meal three times a day? Who will harvest the shamba? If there is an important agricultural show in
My Market
I think that perhaps the most important thing I got out of being sick is the realization that I am creating that community I so long for. Yesterday was a market day. I was still feeling pretty crappy but I was going stir crazy, I had no food and I just love market days, so I headed into town. On the way in, I ran into Hilda and her sister who were just so excited to see me as they hadn’t seen me in a week or so. A few weeks ago I befriended their family and they have been good to me (although I do think I might have been a little disrespectful in a religious debate with their uncle, but that’s for another day)Anyhow, I apologized for not coming around and explained that I had been sick-they get really concerned and apologize for not coming to visit me. They also chastised me for not telling them and insist that next time I call them so that they can come take care of me. I continue to the market. I start with the second hand clothes market so I don’t drop all my fruits and vegs while bent over a pile of old t-shirts. I hear “MWANAFUNZI RACHEL” ahhh, mwalimu! Its one of the shop keeps I joke around with-he says he missed me at Tuesdays market. We chat some more until I cant think of anything more to say and I move on down the row to greet some of the other shop keeps and bargain for some cool shit and get my way! [One of the main reasons I love markets is I love winning the battle of the bargain!] I go about 3 steps into the food/produce market and run into Mama Rachel (people here re-name themselves after their first born) ‘you have been soo lost’ she says-I usually hate it when people say this to me as it plays on my insecurity of actually appearing like a lost tourist-but today I accept the sentiment (Kenyan English for-I haven’t seen you in a while). She insists I go visit her husband and I do as I was already headed there. Mama Rachel and her husband Vincent were possibly the first friends I have made here. They are maybe 40 or 50 and sell produce on the ground -everyday same spot. They have taken me in. I see them almost everyday and they check up on me. When I get to where Vincent sits he was so concerned about me, he said all week he was worried and had no way to contact me. He gives me some rockin oranges (that rival California’s!) and tries to give me the potatoes too, but I insist on paying for them and remind him for the 5th time that if he is going to give me something, he has to also allow me to buy something. So then he gives me twice as much as I want and tells me to pay him 5 bob, I give him 20. He’s my favorite, just truly genuine and caring. Final stop is Prucella –she too has missed me. She likes me, I don’t know why. She was the first vendor to gift me something (mangos!) and so I go back to her each market day. She always tries to overcharge me for her fruit, so I always only buy garlic-we might play this game for 2 years! I see Joy (from VYF) we talk about Ramadan and this past week we have missed together. [The other reason I love market days - I get to see friends, make friends, talk with people, learn from people, speak Kiswahili and get delicious fruit!] I’m exhausted but need eggs and bread from the supermarket. I go see Jayesh, he owns one of the supers and generally looks out for us. Every week he holds a curry dinner with a bunch of his friends – old Indian men- and whatever foreign volunteers happen to be around. We eat great homemade Indian food and drink beer for about $6. It’s a treat, anyhow, he tells me I look like shit and that I have lost too much weight (I always hate being told I look like shit when I already feel it!) I joke that I haven’t really lost weight I only cut my hair off. He is concerned that I am so sick and says he’ll have his wife make me chicken soup and tells me to always call if I need anything. The soup got me. When I’m really sick in the states my mom always brought me matzo ball soup. I felt a bit at home. I leave to go home and run into my favorite street boy Emmanuel who I haven’t seen in 2 weeks or so. I buy him bananas and we talk. This kid is struggling-he’s wearing this school uniform that looks as though it has been repeatedly splattered with muddy water-but he’s trying-his smile takes over his face and he has the kindest most innocent eyes for a boy who has seen too much in his 10 years. Shamefully, I think I like him so much because he reminds me of Sampson-one of my boys from
My daily life
*Disclaimer, this entry is by special request by those who love me enough to want to read this much detail. If that’s you, read on.
I wake up at about 6:15 am hop outta bed before I have the chance to internally debate the delicious thought of laying in bed awake and dreaming an extra 30 minutes-throw on some clothes and my running shoes. I leave my house, greet my guard who is watering what exists of a garden and I head out into the sunrise. Its gorgeous, the red dirt roads and the red rising African sun. The only people who seem to be awake are calm and greet me respectfully. By now they have gotten used to the crazy white woman who runs uphill and turns around and runs down at an hour when she should be fetching water or cooking or sleeping for that matter. I return home to shower. Now as a peace corps volunteer, I am blessed to actually have a ‘shower’ but it isn’t what you might imagine-or maybe it is. It’s a head that dribbles out cool water. Damn cold water actually at 7am. Every time I step under it my breathing becomes rapid and shallow and I am reminded of running into Lake Tahoe and coming out panting but refreshed. The shower situation is probably largely responsible for me cutting my hair off(don’t worry, its not boy short, its chin length and a rather nice cut for having done it myself.). ahhh as always, I digress. I pick out the least wrinkly clothing that doesn’t smell, throw it on and head to my kitchen to make breakfast. Most days its oatmeal made with powdered milk, cinnamon and about a half cup of sugar with a banana sliced on top. Its rather tasty actually, I find myself looking forward to breakfast. Also I wouldn’t be in Kenya(or a former British colony) if my meal didn’t include a large cup of chai. This is really just milky sugary tea. But I drink a lot of it, like about a half litre each morning. During my meals I read whatever book I'm on at the time. Right now it’s The End of Poverty (not sure how I feel about it yet, but its still early). I brush up, grab my CAPSES bag and head out to the office.
Its about 830am. It usually takes me about 15 minutes to walk to the office. Along the way I listen to the goats bleating, the wind in the trees an greet the few school kids who are running late to school and then I'm hit with the main street crowded with people, cars, tuktuks, hawkers-most mornings it seems like everyone and everything is yelling. I arrive to the office to check in and usually there are only a few people around. Kodi is sure to be there. He has grown to be one of my favorites. He is just genuinely friendly, loves to talk but keeps you entertained while doing so, and usually he is educating me on things like trapping animals or the uses for different types of trees. He has also taken great care of me while I have been sick these past many days. From here the day can take on any turn of events. Usually I hang around till at least 930 reading the daily paper and chatting with all the people who work at VYF and who are gradually becoming my friends. I could really spend all day doing this, sitting in the office talking-this seems to be what most of our members do anyhow…that’s for another rant. At 9:30 I will either be heading out to do an outreach with Allen in any one of the 5 main communities we work in. Outreaches usually consist of a lot of dancing and singing, a couple skits about specific health issues and then a question and answer session. A lot of what I did in Malawi, but here all I get to do is dance and I don't control the message that is being given(good and bad in different ways). OR it could be a day where I will work on my community assessment. These are the days I like most right now because they require me to think and I get to interact with a variety of people. To keep it short, these days I am mainly walking around observing the conditions, the available resources and interviewing people (in a way such that they don’t know I'm interviewing them) about their household roles and practices, about their problems in Voi, what they have and what they need. I learn a lot on days like this and my brain starts working overtime thinking of the reasons for these things, the implications and what I can work on for the next few years.
At about 1230 I will break for lunch. If in town, ill head to one of 3 restaurants I frequent and usually ill have beans in coconut milk, chapatti and a coke. Sometimes I eat alone sometimes I run into someone I know. After lunch I usually go say hello to Vincent and Mama Rachel and Jayesh. If it’s a market day ill head into the market. Then ill eagerly check my mailbox to see if anyone decided to make my day. Usually it’s a sad day at the Posta. Maybe ill head back to the office, maybe back out walking, maybe ill sit in on a session a co-worker is holding, maybe ill head home to do some writing/brainstorming. I usually cut out at about 500pm to go buy whatever I need for dinner and head home. I arrive home, have the same conversation with my guard I have every evening- maybe shower again depending on the sweat level of the day-change into my comfy cloths and throw some chai on the stove. This is probably my favorite part of the day. I take my delicious half liter of chai, my journal, book and phone out to my patio and spend the next hour or 2 just sitting and decompressing – digesting the events of the day, writing, reading, talking on the phone to volunteer friends or family and watching the sun set casting beautiful shadows over Sagalla mountain. Usually one of the neighbour women will stop by and say hello. When the light starts to fade and the swarms of mosquitoes come out ill head inside to cook dinner. Maybe ill put on my ipod for some jazz while cooking. Maybe its not as classy as jazz all the time…maybe its RENT. By now its probably near 7pm. What’s for dinner… Its totally dependant on what I have but usually it is a bunch of vegetables put together in some way accompanied by rice, mashed potatoes or if I am feeling super fancy sweet potatoes and coconut milk(SOO GOOD!) I’ll have desert of an orange or banana. A nice thing about Kenya is we’ve got a BUTT load of spices and a great variety of fruits and veg. I have yet to get too fancy or too Kenyan with my cooking, but in time. At 8pm ill sit down again with my book and eat dinner. Then ill do dishes wash up and get in bed and write letters or in my journal. I wont go to sleep for a few hours still, but I enjoy reading/writing in the comfort of my mosquito net.
So that’s an average day, however, it will all be changing soon (hopefully) as I get under way with some of my own projects and as other things arrive like my computer…and a yoga matt. Weekends hold any number of visitors, maybe a trip to Mombasa, cleaning house and doing wash, or events in town-futbol matches, maybe an event at the stadium celebrating literacy, family health, anything really, every week there seems to be some national day of sorts.
Days seem to be pretty full and I have the benefits of electricity and running water. In households without these things it is truly a full time job to keep the house clean, do laundry, got to market, fetch water and firewood and cook meals. Just to repeat the same tasks the following day. I realize how important electricity and running water are/have been in relation to women’s rights. Another something to chew on.
I wake up at about 6:15 am hop outta bed before I have the chance to internally debate the delicious thought of laying in bed awake and dreaming an extra 30 minutes-throw on some clothes and my running shoes. I leave my house, greet my guard who is watering what exists of a garden and I head out into the sunrise. Its gorgeous, the red dirt roads and the red rising African sun. The only people who seem to be awake are calm and greet me respectfully. By now they have gotten used to the crazy white woman who runs uphill and turns around and runs down at an hour when she should be fetching water or cooking or sleeping for that matter. I return home to shower. Now as a peace corps volunteer, I am blessed to actually have a ‘shower’ but it isn’t what you might imagine-or maybe it is. It’s a head that dribbles out cool water. Damn cold water actually at 7am. Every time I step under it my breathing becomes rapid and shallow and I am reminded of running into Lake Tahoe and coming out panting but refreshed. The shower situation is probably largely responsible for me cutting my hair off(don’t worry, its not boy short, its chin length and a rather nice cut for having done it myself.). ahhh as always, I digress. I pick out the least wrinkly clothing that doesn’t smell, throw it on and head to my kitchen to make breakfast. Most days its oatmeal made with powdered milk, cinnamon and about a half cup of sugar with a banana sliced on top. Its rather tasty actually, I find myself looking forward to breakfast. Also I wouldn’t be in Kenya(or a former British colony) if my meal didn’t include a large cup of chai. This is really just milky sugary tea. But I drink a lot of it, like about a half litre each morning. During my meals I read whatever book I'm on at the time. Right now it’s The End of Poverty (not sure how I feel about it yet, but its still early). I brush up, grab my CAPSES bag and head out to the office.
Its about 830am. It usually takes me about 15 minutes to walk to the office. Along the way I listen to the goats bleating, the wind in the trees an greet the few school kids who are running late to school and then I'm hit with the main street crowded with people, cars, tuktuks, hawkers-most mornings it seems like everyone and everything is yelling. I arrive to the office to check in and usually there are only a few people around. Kodi is sure to be there. He has grown to be one of my favorites. He is just genuinely friendly, loves to talk but keeps you entertained while doing so, and usually he is educating me on things like trapping animals or the uses for different types of trees. He has also taken great care of me while I have been sick these past many days. From here the day can take on any turn of events. Usually I hang around till at least 930 reading the daily paper and chatting with all the people who work at VYF and who are gradually becoming my friends. I could really spend all day doing this, sitting in the office talking-this seems to be what most of our members do anyhow…that’s for another rant. At 9:30 I will either be heading out to do an outreach with Allen in any one of the 5 main communities we work in. Outreaches usually consist of a lot of dancing and singing, a couple skits about specific health issues and then a question and answer session. A lot of what I did in Malawi, but here all I get to do is dance and I don't control the message that is being given(good and bad in different ways). OR it could be a day where I will work on my community assessment. These are the days I like most right now because they require me to think and I get to interact with a variety of people. To keep it short, these days I am mainly walking around observing the conditions, the available resources and interviewing people (in a way such that they don’t know I'm interviewing them) about their household roles and practices, about their problems in Voi, what they have and what they need. I learn a lot on days like this and my brain starts working overtime thinking of the reasons for these things, the implications and what I can work on for the next few years.
At about 1230 I will break for lunch. If in town, ill head to one of 3 restaurants I frequent and usually ill have beans in coconut milk, chapatti and a coke. Sometimes I eat alone sometimes I run into someone I know. After lunch I usually go say hello to Vincent and Mama Rachel and Jayesh. If it’s a market day ill head into the market. Then ill eagerly check my mailbox to see if anyone decided to make my day. Usually it’s a sad day at the Posta. Maybe ill head back to the office, maybe back out walking, maybe ill sit in on a session a co-worker is holding, maybe ill head home to do some writing/brainstorming. I usually cut out at about 500pm to go buy whatever I need for dinner and head home. I arrive home, have the same conversation with my guard I have every evening- maybe shower again depending on the sweat level of the day-change into my comfy cloths and throw some chai on the stove. This is probably my favorite part of the day. I take my delicious half liter of chai, my journal, book and phone out to my patio and spend the next hour or 2 just sitting and decompressing – digesting the events of the day, writing, reading, talking on the phone to volunteer friends or family and watching the sun set casting beautiful shadows over Sagalla mountain. Usually one of the neighbour women will stop by and say hello. When the light starts to fade and the swarms of mosquitoes come out ill head inside to cook dinner. Maybe ill put on my ipod for some jazz while cooking. Maybe its not as classy as jazz all the time…maybe its RENT. By now its probably near 7pm. What’s for dinner… Its totally dependant on what I have but usually it is a bunch of vegetables put together in some way accompanied by rice, mashed potatoes or if I am feeling super fancy sweet potatoes and coconut milk(SOO GOOD!) I’ll have desert of an orange or banana. A nice thing about Kenya is we’ve got a BUTT load of spices and a great variety of fruits and veg. I have yet to get too fancy or too Kenyan with my cooking, but in time. At 8pm ill sit down again with my book and eat dinner. Then ill do dishes wash up and get in bed and write letters or in my journal. I wont go to sleep for a few hours still, but I enjoy reading/writing in the comfort of my mosquito net.
So that’s an average day, however, it will all be changing soon (hopefully) as I get under way with some of my own projects and as other things arrive like my computer…and a yoga matt. Weekends hold any number of visitors, maybe a trip to Mombasa, cleaning house and doing wash, or events in town-futbol matches, maybe an event at the stadium celebrating literacy, family health, anything really, every week there seems to be some national day of sorts.
Days seem to be pretty full and I have the benefits of electricity and running water. In households without these things it is truly a full time job to keep the house clean, do laundry, got to market, fetch water and firewood and cook meals. Just to repeat the same tasks the following day. I realize how important electricity and running water are/have been in relation to women’s rights. Another something to chew on.
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