Karen, Nairobi, Kenya
After my last update, my nieces and nephews in Jersey are praying that I don't smell when I get back to the States and wondering why I don't just build a big swimming pool so everyone can stay clean and have fun at the same time. Well, prayers are always welcome and as I learned in Creative Brainstorming, there is no such thing as a bad idea!
Over the last month, I have been called upon to help kids with their Math, Reading, and English skills. I must admit that the hardest part is not trying to recall Word Problems or what a Present Participle really is, but rather remembering all the names, sometimes at a moment's notice. I first thought of committing certain details like their shoes and clothing to memory. This failed miserably the next day when Purity was wearing Christine's yellow blouse, Jane was wearing Magdalene's purple dress, and then in walks Kevin wearing the pink-hearted sweater and flowery pants worn by Christabelle earlier in the week, closely followed by Thomas in Wonder Woman sandals. To confuse the situation even more, everybody welcome Lucy in a Snoopy Christmas sweatshirt. Meanwhile I am standing at the front of the classroom pretending that all is completely normal while my mind is screaming, "HUH!?!" The only one that seems to maintain any level of consistency is Queen Rose --always in red, Patton-leather sandals. Nobody would dare touch those. And yes Queen Rose, those red sandals look fabulous with that lime green T-shirt and bright blue skirt! It doesn't take long though, to get past the confusion and be touched by their view of clothing as simply something to cover their bodies.
Now how do I keep a group of kids motivated and attentive? Introduce a little competition. Who would have thought that the grand prize red bandana would have caused such a scene? Priscilla and Kabena stormed out of the room when Maureen (pronounced Mah-ooh-reen) won the Prize for "Best Behaved." For the next week, Priscilla would purposely go out of her way to walk by me and then turn her head just as I was about to say hello. She finally yelled an apology to me from across the courtyard and adopted a strategy of trying to charm a prize out of me with her sad eyes and sweet talk. When that didn't work, she just came right out and asked for a bandana assuring me that it would be our little secret. I didn't give in, but I do find myself buying almonds, her favorite snack, when I take a trip to the provision store.
The longer I am here, the more unbelievable stories I hear of the kids that have become my friends. Like Mary, who as a four-year old, bathed, clothed, and fed her dying mother until desperately running into a community health clinic to ask for help. And Margaret, whose sick mother tried to strangle her with a belt so she would not be subject to a life of prostitution and sickness. And then there's Moses who was abandoned in a field, his face eaten by insects before being discovered by a farmer. He was named after the nurse that cared for him in the hospital.
Even sadder than these stories is the present-day living conditions in the slums of Nairobi. The pictures of Kibera, an area housing over a million people, speak for themselves, with crowded metal shacks built on top of each other and kids playing near raw sewage and uncollected garbage. The shocking picture is made even worse by the unbearable, seeping stench. It's not fit for animals, never mind human beings. I visited a number of families with one story grimmer than the next - ill parents in bed, children suffering from malnutrition, and a pervading doom of worry about how to get food and whether or not they'll be thrown out for not being able to pay the $9 monthly rent currently past due. And still despite the poverty and illness, the Kenyan spirit shown through as packs of kids would run up to me with arms extended yelling, "How are you?" probably the only English phrase they know. You can't help but to want to cry for them, pray for them, empty your pockets for them, and to also thank God that you were lucky enough to be born in the developed world with problems not as severe, health care not as inaccessible, and poverty not as common. And Kibera is apparently one of the richest of the 210 Kenyan constituencies. Majiwa is one of the poorest.
It took over 12 hours by bus to reach Majiwa from Nairobi. I stayed with the parents of Junior, the Volunteer Coordinator. Mama and Papa Junior, as they liked to be called were true community leaders and living saints who raised seven of their own children, lost their eldest son to AIDS, and were now taking care of eight more children comprised of grandchildren and neighbor orphans - and doing it all with no running water or electricity. They operate a community health center on their property and were hosting a medical team from Slovenia. The doctors treated up to 80 people per day throughout their stay which was extended due to the overwhelming need in the village for care of common problems like infections and viruses but also ailments no longer seen in the Western world. Health education was also a major problem especially hygiene and the misuse of antibiotics and other medications.
Papa Junior brought me around the village and spoke of inadequate schools, the lack of educational supplies, and promised funding over and over for water and electricity that never arrives due mainly to corruption. Time and time again the villagers, worn and marked by disappointment, are expected to somehow make due, even in the drought they were currently experiencing. He also explained that if a family can't pay for the school fees of a child, the community pitches in to help by either sacrificing some more or finding a sponsor or organization to offset the burden, and he introduced me to a group of women who make and sell clay pots for filtering and chlorinating water that no longer have a space to work. It can be overwhelming to hear all the challenges that people are facing while at the same time hoping to figure out some way to help.
Junior has continued his travel-planning hobby. For some fun and relaxation, I was able to join him and a group of 30 friends at a cultural festival in Lamu, Kenya's oldest inhabited town. Despite some transportation glitches that seem to come with the territory, I enjoyed the camaraderie, scenery, history, and most of all, the feeling of walking back in time.
In Nairobi, the matutus continue their incredible journeys through the streets. I thought I had seen it all, but when a man got on with 20 live chickens that covered the whole floor and asked if I would like to buy one, I kindly replied, "No thanks," instead of "WHAT!?!" and got off at the next stop.
My most recent days at Nyumbani have been spent working on a farming irrigation project so the orphanage can be more self-sustaining as well as a schoolhouse painting project. But mostly my time has been spent with the pre-teen boys to keep them active wjile they are out of school for the month of August. I've grown accustomed to them walking behind me asking, "Kieran (pronounced Keren with a rolled r) we are doing what?" or "Kieran, we are going where?" Normally I'd be inclined to ignore them or be frustrated with all the questions, but with their cute accents, I just like to hear them talk. I really don't mind that they have trouble pronouncing my name. Weena, a doctor volunteer from San Diego has to hear them all chant, "Weena, Looza, Weena, Looza," whenever she enters a room. Apart from that, I've also been working on a play, Wizard of Oz with an African feel, in which all the kids will participate.
As for Amal and Samuel, Amal is still smiling and her speech is improving thanks to one-on-one lessons from a volunteer with experience in Speech Pathology. Always in a dress, she makes herself part of the action, wherever it may be, and putting her head on my knees is my cue to pick her up and give her a vantage point for determining her next destination. Samuel has his ups and downs, mostly downs lately. I hate to think of him inside all day but on a short walk, he suddenly tugged at my hand, looked up, and said one word, "Tired." Even in his condition though, he continues to share his incredible spirit with anyone in his presence.
Signing off and hoping all is well with you-
Kieran