November the 14th, 2009
Today was a great day. It started out with chores. First the laundry, I do not recall ever having washed my clothes by hand before, but Sofi showed me the proper technique. Next came the water purification, a tedious process, but I was satisfied with the result. Then I read and relaxed until it was time for sport with the other volunteers. We met at 2 at Boma la Tumaini; but due to stragglers and a few wrong turns we did not make it to the field until 3. I find it ironic, though I have openly expressed by distaste for the watoto (children), it was I who ended up kicking around a soccer ball with a bunch of them while my colleagues organized an exclusive kickball game.
Never mind, I did not remain for long as I had agreed to meet Enoch at 4 to watch the football. I entered the Hotel Act II on time, but he was nowhere to be found. I ordered a Fanta, and sat down to watch the Harambee Stars v. the Super Eagles. A moment later Enoch entered and bade I follow, so I downed my Fanta and hastily departed for Makuti, which, as it turns out, is an awesome bar.
The game contained all the elements that makes football such a great game. And although they lost, and although Kenya isn’t going to the World Cup, I could feel that everyone present was happy that at least their team went down swinging.
Monday, November 16, 2009
Nimechoka...
November the 9th, 2009
Short entry today, as I am tired. First day of the “routine” as it were. Got up, ate egg with bread and chai. Went to Mama Kamani’s house for lesson with Evans (the language trainer) and Nicole. The lesson was a bit slow, but I think that’s a good sign (thank you Rosetta Stone!) We will likely move language groups around depending on ability, but I would prefer not to if it means losing Evans, he’s great. Had some good discussions about Kenyan politics with him today.
Aft language, we had medical discussion (diarrhea talk this time), followed by lunch (githeri=corn and beans @ Café Kilimanjaro, meh). Followed by technical (Kenyan school system = boring). Followed by bank visit ($1 does not equal 63 KSH, oh well). Followed by CELL PHONE. Talk to Mom, all is right with world.
Shit, showered, ate, coffee, done. Lala salama.
Short entry today, as I am tired. First day of the “routine” as it were. Got up, ate egg with bread and chai. Went to Mama Kamani’s house for lesson with Evans (the language trainer) and Nicole. The lesson was a bit slow, but I think that’s a good sign (thank you Rosetta Stone!) We will likely move language groups around depending on ability, but I would prefer not to if it means losing Evans, he’s great. Had some good discussions about Kenyan politics with him today.
Aft language, we had medical discussion (diarrhea talk this time), followed by lunch (githeri=corn and beans @ Café Kilimanjaro, meh). Followed by technical (Kenyan school system = boring). Followed by bank visit ($1 does not equal 63 KSH, oh well). Followed by CELL PHONE. Talk to Mom, all is right with world.
Shit, showered, ate, coffee, done. Lala salama.
Bumpy ride to the Shamba
November the 8th, 2009
I feel the words are going to fail me tonight… see they already did. Let me just say what I saw today without all the fancy talk. We met our host families today. My Mama, Sofi is a short Kikuyu woman who speaks impeccable English and dresses very well. Equally well dressed is her Maasai husband, Enoch, who I saw briefly at the mechanics. Yes, the mechanic, who is just some guy near a nondescript brown building with light blue shutters in the center of town. What happened was, Sofi drove to Outward Bound to meet me, but along the way she came upon a puddle whose depth deceived her. After several false starts she decided that something was awry. And the mechanic confirmed that some of the spark plugs got wet and weren’t firing correctly. But this guy didn’t have the tool to get them out of the block, so he made one. Welded it together right there on the spot! “He knows how to improvise” says Sofi. And boy was Kapucinski right about crowds forming around cars being worked on, everyone watching while one guy does his thing.
Turns out their other car, a pickup truck, had just been fixed that morning. So I transferred my stuff to that and we went of to the house where I will spend the next two months. They have lots of land, mostly devoted to farming (coffee, maize, beans, kale, other stuff). There are also a few goats and a very unfriendly dog, but I’m sure he’ll come around. The house is charming; they have electricity, and a few nice things. Hot shower (scalding hot!) No toilet, just the choo (read: concrete hole in the ground). It’s all very functional. My room is fine, one light bulb, no outlets, and a few insects, but no problem.
As I was unpacking my stuff I came across a goodbye note from Mom, and for the first time since I boarded the airplane my eyes filled with tears. I think that was the moment it finally became real. But no time for regret now, there is work to be done. I keep hoping Swahili will come easy, but it won’t. Now’s the time to “finally” knuckle down. Tomorrow is lesson #2.
I feel the words are going to fail me tonight… see they already did. Let me just say what I saw today without all the fancy talk. We met our host families today. My Mama, Sofi is a short Kikuyu woman who speaks impeccable English and dresses very well. Equally well dressed is her Maasai husband, Enoch, who I saw briefly at the mechanics. Yes, the mechanic, who is just some guy near a nondescript brown building with light blue shutters in the center of town. What happened was, Sofi drove to Outward Bound to meet me, but along the way she came upon a puddle whose depth deceived her. After several false starts she decided that something was awry. And the mechanic confirmed that some of the spark plugs got wet and weren’t firing correctly. But this guy didn’t have the tool to get them out of the block, so he made one. Welded it together right there on the spot! “He knows how to improvise” says Sofi. And boy was Kapucinski right about crowds forming around cars being worked on, everyone watching while one guy does his thing.
Turns out their other car, a pickup truck, had just been fixed that morning. So I transferred my stuff to that and we went of to the house where I will spend the next two months. They have lots of land, mostly devoted to farming (coffee, maize, beans, kale, other stuff). There are also a few goats and a very unfriendly dog, but I’m sure he’ll come around. The house is charming; they have electricity, and a few nice things. Hot shower (scalding hot!) No toilet, just the choo (read: concrete hole in the ground). It’s all very functional. My room is fine, one light bulb, no outlets, and a few insects, but no problem.
As I was unpacking my stuff I came across a goodbye note from Mom, and for the first time since I boarded the airplane my eyes filled with tears. I think that was the moment it finally became real. But no time for regret now, there is work to be done. I keep hoping Swahili will come easy, but it won’t. Now’s the time to “finally” knuckle down. Tomorrow is lesson #2.
Hookers and Giraffes
November the 7th, 2009
Last night was a blast. The PCVs took us to a club/bar called Gipsy, which was packed with all sorts. Young, old, Kenyans, Asians, Brits, Germans, NGO workers and prostitutes. I proceeded to get a bit sloshed, and ended up being worked on by a hooker. I bought her a drink and she told me that “Dom” is slang for weed, so I shouldn’t introduce myself that way. High-larious.
Anyway, we drank, we danced, I watched football highlights, and we all made it home at the end of the night. All for about $18. It still didn’t feel like Africa though…
… but the ride today brought me back into the mindset I was expecting. The road from Nairobi to Mombasa is paved! A relatively new feature I’m informed. About 60 miles down the road we turned southwards having traveled past some spectacular landscapes. I now understand what Hemingway meant by those “Green Hills of Africa.” We saw zebras, ostriches, antelope, and above all giraffes. Two fellas were lumbering by the side of the road and offered a spectacular view of themselves.
About 40 miles outside of Loitokitok the pavement ran out, and parts of the road were nothing but dust. At one point is was so bad that the road was completely obscured by the clouds being blown ahead of us by the wind, and we had to stop and wait for them to clear. I was sitting near the front, and as we crested a hill I noticed the landscape ahead was rising upwards into the clouds. I knew it as soon as I perceived it: Kilimanjaro! Or the base of it at least, I still haven’t seen its entirety due to the weather. But even at this distance, 20 miles away, its base took up half of my field of vision!
After arriving in Loitokitok we took a short walk through the town, which lies at the base of the great mountain. I’ve read that the population numbers about 35,000, with the majority from the Maasai tribe. From where we are staying the night at Outward Bound, we calked along a dirt track past fields and houses and finally shops as we made our way through the city centre. Then we hooked back around past more houses and a field where children were playing football. Apparently, we are quite a spectacle. The children kept running out to greet us screaming “Howryu!” They kids are disgustingly adorable, all smiles in their tattered rags. Livestock encumbered our way around every bend, and every five seconds we had to jump to the side of the road to avoid being run down by a motorcycle.
But what I honestly found the most fascinating are the trees. Some erupt into leaves of beautiful purple fireworks. Some are those flat-topped trees that are distinctly African. And some are tree trunk on bottom, but the top branches resemble cacti, as if they were the result of some genetic splicing between oak and saguaro. Truly, this is an alien planet I have landed on.
Last night was a blast. The PCVs took us to a club/bar called Gipsy, which was packed with all sorts. Young, old, Kenyans, Asians, Brits, Germans, NGO workers and prostitutes. I proceeded to get a bit sloshed, and ended up being worked on by a hooker. I bought her a drink and she told me that “Dom” is slang for weed, so I shouldn’t introduce myself that way. High-larious.
Anyway, we drank, we danced, I watched football highlights, and we all made it home at the end of the night. All for about $18. It still didn’t feel like Africa though…
… but the ride today brought me back into the mindset I was expecting. The road from Nairobi to Mombasa is paved! A relatively new feature I’m informed. About 60 miles down the road we turned southwards having traveled past some spectacular landscapes. I now understand what Hemingway meant by those “Green Hills of Africa.” We saw zebras, ostriches, antelope, and above all giraffes. Two fellas were lumbering by the side of the road and offered a spectacular view of themselves.
About 40 miles outside of Loitokitok the pavement ran out, and parts of the road were nothing but dust. At one point is was so bad that the road was completely obscured by the clouds being blown ahead of us by the wind, and we had to stop and wait for them to clear. I was sitting near the front, and as we crested a hill I noticed the landscape ahead was rising upwards into the clouds. I knew it as soon as I perceived it: Kilimanjaro! Or the base of it at least, I still haven’t seen its entirety due to the weather. But even at this distance, 20 miles away, its base took up half of my field of vision!
After arriving in Loitokitok we took a short walk through the town, which lies at the base of the great mountain. I’ve read that the population numbers about 35,000, with the majority from the Maasai tribe. From where we are staying the night at Outward Bound, we calked along a dirt track past fields and houses and finally shops as we made our way through the city centre. Then we hooked back around past more houses and a field where children were playing football. Apparently, we are quite a spectacle. The children kept running out to greet us screaming “Howryu!” They kids are disgustingly adorable, all smiles in their tattered rags. Livestock encumbered our way around every bend, and every five seconds we had to jump to the side of the road to avoid being run down by a motorcycle.
But what I honestly found the most fascinating are the trees. Some erupt into leaves of beautiful purple fireworks. Some are those flat-topped trees that are distinctly African. And some are tree trunk on bottom, but the top branches resemble cacti, as if they were the result of some genetic splicing between oak and saguaro. Truly, this is an alien planet I have landed on.
Site Placement
November the 6th, 2009
I had my site placement meeting today, and talking to other volunteers I have the impression it went really well. The head guy in charge of placement, Enos, seems to be using these meetings to size people up, to see if we are really up to the challenge, as I assume a few of us are not. Apparently one girl burst into tears during her interview, though I’m not sure exactly what was said. But hey, if you can’t handle a conversation, I wonder what the rest of service will be like?
As for me, we discussed my anxieties… not being able to cook. And then Enos began to describe two potential sites. The first is a school next to a road in a hot humid climate that enjoys a breeze from the lake (to which I responded “You mean Lake Victoria, so this must be Nywanza province,” and his look told me I was correct, little know-it-all that I am). But the condition is that the house is part of a compound I would share with other men, and we would could and clean communally. I’m not completely opposed, but I have always fancied the idea of having my own house, which is why the second option sounds better.
Picture a walk from a school, about 2 km, through woods and over a small brook into a clearing that sports a walled in compound home to several “Old Mamas” and children. And just outside the wall is a small house originally built for one of the older sons who is now living big in the city.
Also in the room were two volunteers one year into service, Kelly and Carly, who were assisting Enos with the interviews. When asked my opinion of the site, I replied “Sounds charming,” which put them both into stitches of laughter.
Let’s hope I get that one.
Now off to the club (Gipsy) with Christy and some others. Yay Tusker!
I had my site placement meeting today, and talking to other volunteers I have the impression it went really well. The head guy in charge of placement, Enos, seems to be using these meetings to size people up, to see if we are really up to the challenge, as I assume a few of us are not. Apparently one girl burst into tears during her interview, though I’m not sure exactly what was said. But hey, if you can’t handle a conversation, I wonder what the rest of service will be like?
As for me, we discussed my anxieties… not being able to cook. And then Enos began to describe two potential sites. The first is a school next to a road in a hot humid climate that enjoys a breeze from the lake (to which I responded “You mean Lake Victoria, so this must be Nywanza province,” and his look told me I was correct, little know-it-all that I am). But the condition is that the house is part of a compound I would share with other men, and we would could and clean communally. I’m not completely opposed, but I have always fancied the idea of having my own house, which is why the second option sounds better.
Picture a walk from a school, about 2 km, through woods and over a small brook into a clearing that sports a walled in compound home to several “Old Mamas” and children. And just outside the wall is a small house originally built for one of the older sons who is now living big in the city.
Also in the room were two volunteers one year into service, Kelly and Carly, who were assisting Enos with the interviews. When asked my opinion of the site, I replied “Sounds charming,” which put them both into stitches of laughter.
Let’s hope I get that one.
Now off to the club (Gipsy) with Christy and some others. Yay Tusker!
And we have liftoff...
This morning I awoke and found I was in Africa. Having arrived the previous evening I assumed a good night’s sleep would prepare me for the moment when it would finally set in, when reality would finally set in. The moment when I would realize that I had arrived, and that I wouldn’t be going home for a long, long time. However, the moment never came.
I’m not sure why, perhaps because I was expecting it, because I had been contemplating it for so long. Or perhaps I was distracted by this cold I have been nurturing ever since kissing my sister goodbye at the airport. Or maybe I have grown too old, too cold, to numbed to experiencing new settings that Africa seems strangely un-exotic. I admit, so far I have seen nothing, just this hotel compound, the road our matatu (van taxi) drove to the mall, and the mall itself (which could easily be transplanted anywhere in the U.S.). It all seems so common to me. I am disappointed by the lack of a sudden shock.
But these are early days, and the good company more than compensates for the lack of exciting scenery. The other volunteers are a splendid bunch, and I foresee many joyous days ahead of us.
I’m not sure why, perhaps because I was expecting it, because I had been contemplating it for so long. Or perhaps I was distracted by this cold I have been nurturing ever since kissing my sister goodbye at the airport. Or maybe I have grown too old, too cold, to numbed to experiencing new settings that Africa seems strangely un-exotic. I admit, so far I have seen nothing, just this hotel compound, the road our matatu (van taxi) drove to the mall, and the mall itself (which could easily be transplanted anywhere in the U.S.). It all seems so common to me. I am disappointed by the lack of a sudden shock.
But these are early days, and the good company more than compensates for the lack of exciting scenery. The other volunteers are a splendid bunch, and I foresee many joyous days ahead of us.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Hanging round JFK
Just waiting to jet. Met the other volunteers yesterday, turns out we're all in education projects. Maybe 10 Science Teachers, another 10 Math, and 6-7 who are in the Peace Corps Deaf Program. They all know ASL, but will be learning the Kenyan version in lieu of Swahili, very cool.
Nothing to report besides that, but they all seem like decent folk. Took us about five seconds to get fairly comfortable with the whole group, I think I've got just about everybody's name memorized. Most are kids, my age or a little older. There are also a three middle-aged women who are taking the plunge. I call them "seasoned" in stead of "senior." Meeting them, I realize that age is really a piss poor excuse for not wanting to volunteer. So Mum, get off yer arse!
PS. I know I forget the photos. Shit. And the helmet. Double shit. But I did manage to pick up a touch of the flu from a certain wild animal. And here I thought I would get sick AFTER I got to Africa. But thanks for the head start Alexa!
Nothing to report besides that, but they all seem like decent folk. Took us about five seconds to get fairly comfortable with the whole group, I think I've got just about everybody's name memorized. Most are kids, my age or a little older. There are also a three middle-aged women who are taking the plunge. I call them "seasoned" in stead of "senior." Meeting them, I realize that age is really a piss poor excuse for not wanting to volunteer. So Mum, get off yer arse!
PS. I know I forget the photos. Shit. And the helmet. Double shit. But I did manage to pick up a touch of the flu from a certain wild animal. And here I thought I would get sick AFTER I got to Africa. But thanks for the head start Alexa!
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
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