africa is a flight away

"Africa is a flight away," writes Richard Dowden. You can take off from Nairobi at 3am and arrive in Cleveland at 6pm on the same day. It is not as far removed as you might think.

As I lift off from Nairobi, my journey coming to a close, feeling emotionally and physically drained, I think, Africa is a flight away - for me. The situation with Geoffrey and WWB was pretty bad, but in the scheme of things, I was able to deal with it - I got a flight home, and I left.

For the hundreds of thousands that live in the streets in Nairobi, in the slums, where violence, the sex trade, and drugs fill the nights, and the days are long and hungry, and there is no possibility of school, Africa is NOT a flight away...it is real life, it is inescapable.

As hard as it is for me to leave, whenever I feel sad at leaving, I try to remember the children I met in Nairobi on Tuesday...these children who probably haven't eaten today. 

As I wrap up my trip, I have tried to reflect on everything I have experienced, but it is too soon. My feelings about Africa and Watoto Wa Baraka are so conflicting; anger and frustration, exhaustion, combined with joy, lover, and happiness. I feel betrayed and hurt by the actions of the administration, and I feel that the situation is incredibly unjust. It is as though everything I did meant nothing. I may not even receive internship credit (which is the whole reason I am here – this is my field work for my graduate program). I am absolutely ready to come home, to see friends and family, and to feel comfortable in my own skin again. I am so grateful that I have a place to call home, that I can journey to the other side of the world and it does not matter, I still have a home, and my friends and family are still there waiting for me. I am so excited to see them. But at the same time, I am so sad to leave this place. There is something about being here – and its not just the kids, and its not just the traveling – that I absolutely love, and I cannot place my finger on it, it seems so out of reach. I think the way I am leaving makes it even harder, as I was not prepared to go.

This is a journey and an experience that has been exhausting but at the same time exhilarating. I have learned and experienced so much. I imagine I will endure some sort of culture shock when I am home and I hope that my friends and family will forgive me as it is inevitable that, for a while, I will begin every sentence with, “Well when I was in Kenya…” I am so grateful to all of the people who have supported me for so long, financially and emotionally. I would not have been able to come on this trip if it were not for all of the wonderful donors who helped me along. Thank you so, so much for your financial support! You have made my trip a reality and it has changed my life forever.

I would have been able to make it through this trip if it were not for my wonderful family, and most especially my mom and dad, all of whom supported me through phone calls, emails, and comments on this blog. No matter how low I have felt at various times, they have been extremely supportive of me and were always ready to help.

Though they will never read this, I want to thank all of the children at Watoto Wa Baraka. These beautiful children have taught me about love and about life in ways only children can. They have made me realize how much hope and promise there is in the next generation of Africa’s children. They have shown me the power of innocence and unconditional love, untainted and uncorrupted by the prejudice of the world. They have shown me that deep down, we are all the same, we are all human.

Thanks to the WWB staff, who have taught me a lot about Kenyan culture and customs, about life in this country, and how to cook chapati! Martha, Eric, Joseph, Priscillah, Grace, Jerusha, and Jane, each of them have shown me such love and given me a lot of great stories. They have, in their own ways, shown me support throughout my “situation” and I appreciate that immensely. Their own job security could be threatened if they stood up for me, but I have received quiet support that means a lot to me.

Thanks, even, to Geoffrey and Zach, for showing me how not to treat people and employees, for showing me what corruption and deceit looks like, and for showing me what money does to a person’s good heart and good will. I am certain that Geoffrey initially did have the best interest of these children in mind – you do not start an orphanage to make a profit. I think he does care deeply about the children, but it is evident that he also cares very much about protecting himself. Opening himself up to criticism is not his way, and I have to accept that. I think, however, that volunteers ought to be at least warned of the risk involved with working for Geoffrey, because it is a scary situation to be in. I would not advise people NOT to come to WWB, but instead advise them to come prepared with backup plans. Only by continuously asking questions and forcing Geoffrey to show this negative side of WWB will anything change; new volunteers can provide this, and if several of us must be kicked out along the way, perhaps it is part of the process.

Through this situation, I have learned how to communicate better, and I’ve learned about cultural differences in organization management styles. Despite the anger and bitterness I feel towards them, however, I am still extremely grateful and blessed to have been able to come to WWB. It is such a strange feeling to feel such love and anger towards a place at the same time!

Of course I want to thank the people who sent money to me while I was here:

Bill & Ruth Koptis

Matthew Tanner

Gail & Rich Tanner

Molly Scheetz

Monica Tanner

Sarah Hacker

Becky Horvath

Your donations have aided me in bringing both necessities and fun to the orphanage and to the community! Thank you so much for your help. I have done my best to spend the money wisely. The kids, the orphanage, and I all appreciate your donation so much.

Finally, I want to thank anyone and everyone who has read this blog, or thought of me, or prayed for me, while I was in Africa. I can only hope that through my words you have glimpsed a little image of another world, another life, and that it has touched you somehow, or inspired you in some way, to learn more about the millions in this world who live lives of such grinding poverty with such uplifting, joyful spirits. They have been a blessing and an inspiration to me, and I hope I have translated that to you.

THANK YOU FOR READING  :)

"Nothing stays white in Africa"

The post I originally wrote for today is below, but first an update:

I have been asked to leave the orphanage. After meeting with Eric, the social worker who was fired, in Nairobi on Tuesday, I came back to the orphanage in a good mood and ready to work for my last week here. After dinner, Zach came to me with his cell phone and said that Geoffrey needed to speak with me. Immediately my heart filled with dread. Everyone knew I was going to meet Eric, and the way he left was not on positive terms with the orphanage. I was sure I was about to be reprimanded for visiting with him.

On the phone, Geoffrey says he is coming to pick me up in the morning. Confused, I explain that my flight does not leave for another week (I thought he had the wrong Wednesday). He said, no, he no longer wants me at the orphanage, and he will be here to pick me up in the morning. I am holding Diana and Baby Joyce is asleep on my lap, so I tell him to hold on and stand up. I tell him I do not understand, why am I being asked to leave, and where am I going? He will not answer. He demands (and I use the word demand because he is certainly not friendly about it) that I put Zach back on the phone. I do so, and after Zach hangs up, he can offer me no explanation. He repeatedly says, I do not know, I do not know. He alludes to my visit with Eric, and then suggests I have been having an illicit love affair with a staff member. I am floored.

Emotional overload kicks in, and I begin to cry. The other volunteers are very helpful but no one can offer anything for me to do because what can I do? I have no legal recourse in this country. There is no contract that I have signed saying they must house me for 11 weeks. It is Geoffrey’s property and he can ask me to leave if he so chooses.

I have my parents call me and try to explain the situation. They immediately set to work trying to figure out what I can do for the next week. I attempt to sleep, not knowing what time Geoffrey will come or what will happen. I feel nauseated and anxious.

Around 4:30AM, a knock comes at my door. I’m thinking, what is this, the mafia? What are they thinking? Its pitch dark out, I am not packed, how can they sneak me off like this? After 10 weeks of working, loving, caring and learning with these children, how can they stop me from saying goodbye? I pack my things in the dark and then step outside. I ask to speak with Geoffrey. At first, he refuses to get out of the car and speak with me. After it is clear I will not move until he does, he steps out and beckons me over. I have woken another volunteer, for moral support, but Geoffrey will not allow him in the conversation. I ask why I am being asked to leave. The conversation resembles that of arguing with a five year old, and Geoffrey refuses to listen to reason.

He rambles on about me conspiring with the old staff, and then asks me three times, Are you going to leave? It sounded threatening, as though if I said no, he planned to call security. I said yes, but I needed to understand why I was going. He spun on his heel, jumped in the car, and drove away.

No one knows what is going on. Zach says that this is between me and Geoffrey and he does not know when Geoffrey will be back to get me. I ask him to please call him, as I need this information to make my plans – staying in a hotel, booking a flight, etc. He has no information and essentially responds like someone left in charge without authority – which is, in fact, a good job description. Zach cannot do anything without Geoffrey’s permission.

The upside of him leaving in this fashion (which I do not doubt was to hide the situation from everyone, it would raise suspicions if he were here – that is why he came so early, so that I could not make a scene in front of staff, volunteers and the kids) is that I was able to say goodbye to the kids. It was heartbreaking. Most of them do not understand but a few were visibly sad to hear I was leaving a week early. Jane came to me, held me and began to cry. At this moment I just broke down. How could this be happening? How could anyone question my commitment to WWB? How could anyone make me leave these kids, who so clearly care about me as I care for them? After everything I have put into this place, I am so hurt and so betrayed right now.

Though no straight answer is given to me, I believe that by visiting another project (Lisha Mtoto, a day care centre which I'll describe below), I basically "betrayed" Geoffrey and WWB because they were fearful that I would send money or support to these other children.

I am emotionally exhausted, and have been crying for hours. I want to go home. There are no flights leaving that are available without paying upwards of $2000, and I cannot get a credit from my other ticket, and the entire thing is overwhelming. I sit at the orphanage for hours, packed and waiting, unsure where I am going, and when, and what will happen to me. Finally, Geoffrey comes back with the car, and Zach drives me to Nairobi, where I am sitting right now.

I am so disappointed and sad that this is how my time at WWB will end. I certainly will always treasure the time I spent here, and I will always care for and think of the children I met here. I have learned and gained so much here, and it is so sad that I will now forevermore think badly of this organization. I plan to write a very long and truthful review of the orphanage and post it online somewhere, not to discourage volunteers but to warn them. This is a situation no one wants to find themselves in. If I did not have parents available, or had no credit card, or had no donated funds (I sincerely hope that my brother does not mind the terrible use his money is going to go towards now – namely, helping me pay for accommodation), I would be really in a bad situation. To be a foreign woman traveling alone with a large suitcase in this country is not comfortable. It is not terribly dangerous but I do not feel comfortable trying to find my way to another place to stay. I sincerely hope no volunteers every have to face this situation, because it is really awful. To be forced from a place I have called home for 10 weeks, to be pulled from children I care about, with no place to go, is a terrible way to treat someone who has given huge amounts of time and money to benefit the orphanage and Makuyu community. My experience is no doubt different from most peoples, but I think that every volunteer faces a risk that they could be sent away without warning or explanation, and it is a scary position to be in.

More than anything I feel hurt and betrayed. I understand that this kind of thing is actually a little normal for Africa. But I thought that I had created relationships that would transcend this kind of politics. I am shocked and saddened to know how little I meant to the management. But I am certain that I did mean something to the staff and most importantly, to the children. In truth, they are the real victims of mismanagement. 

To end on a more positive note, below is the entry I planned to post today. I certainly do not look back on this trip negatively; indeed, I think this experience of being kicked out has taught me a lot about dealing with NGOs, specifically those run by corrupt, selfish, deceitful, malicious, crooked…okay, you get the point. I am definitely still angry. But anyway…

“Nothing stays white in Africa for long.”

We are talking, of course, about laundry. My temporary roommate, Courtney, is trying to wash a white tank top, scrubbing furiously to get out the red dirt, and I comment on the inability of clothes to stay clean here. It does not matter how hard you scrub, everything still looks dirty.

But the statement holds true for our skin too. As each volunteer turns brown under the sun, and our legs and feet turn reddish brown as we kick up waves of dirt, we have all noticed our skin getting darker. I wash my feet every day, but there is still dirt in places I cannot reach.

However, there is a more profound truth in this simple statement. Nothing stays white in Africa for long. Beliefs I have long held sacred, truths I have accepted as universal, ideas I have always held, have been challenged in ways I never expected. These ways of thinking are western – and if I may say, they are white – in nature. I have found that I am unable to simply view the world from one perspective any longer. Of course, I am not stupid – I am definitely still mzungu! – but it is worth noting that my whiteness is being challenged at all times. As my friends and family know, I am a champion for limited government and am always quick to blame problems on state intervention. While I definitely think that the Kenyan government is an awful and corrupt institution, I am recognizing the necessity of government and the rule of law in new ways. I am also seeing how the free market, though well-functioning and efficient, still leaves many in desperate poverty. I see how systems that work extremely well in our world utterly fail here.

Today I went to see this day care center where Eric has been helping out after he was fired from WWB. First of all, let me say that Eric is still looking for a job and this is purely voluntary work. Second, Geoffrey still refuses to even speak to him to explain why he has been fired and is also refusing to pay him for the first half of July that he worked. What a mess – but Eric is such a wonderful, dedicated and passionate guy. He will be better off doing more constructive work in an environment that is not so corrupt and unappreciative.

The daycare center is in a Nairobi slum, the same slum as Children’s Garden Home. The center is a small shack, about ten by twenty feet, made of pieces of wood and corrugated steel. They see me outside and I hear thirty voices yelling, “Mzungu! Mzungu! Mzungu!” Inside there are 6 wooden benches, a tiny easel, and instructional “posters” on the wall, made of old maize sacks. The kids are so excited to see me, they grab at my camera and all want to shake my hand. Eric and Saidah, the woman who is in charge of the project, explain to me that these kids are from the slum. They are the poorest of the poor. Many of them have not eaten in several days, some are HIV positive, some are orphans, others have mothers who are prostitutes. The kids need basic material needs, as well as psychological support as they come from the dangerous slum, where street gangs run at night and their family members are in the sex trade. They often have to beg on the street and they have no idea what they are doing because they are too young to understand the dangers. Though education is free, they cannot afford school fees (kids have to pay for exams), books, supplies and uniforms (this cost would be something not more than $25 per year). This is the type of thing you see on those TV ads to sponsor a child. But these kids are not staring with wide, desperate eyes; they are laughing and joyful despite their serious situation.

Saidah started this daycare center in January, and is desperate for funding to help the kids eat. Their immediate needs are pressing. But Eric has decided to join with her and try to plan a more long-term solution to rescue the kids. Saidah lives in a complex nearby but in a safe area. They plan to eventually move all the kids to the compound, which has toilets, will have running water and electricity, a yard to play in, and a garden to grow vegetables. In order to do this, the center, which is being called Lisha Mtoto (Feed the Child), needs regular sustainable funding. Morgan and I have both been to see the daycare and we want to help Eric start a website. I am also interested trying to do some fundraising while at home, as well as finding grants that can provide large amounts of funding. Finally, Eric would eventually like to start a volunteer program, like at WWB. It is evident that a $90 per week fee here would do immense amounts of good. I am not saying that WWB does not have needs, but I find it difficult to compare how lucky our kids are compared with those at Lisha Mtoto.

Yesterday I went with Bernadette to meet again with MCEEO, the NGO that World Vision used to operate, to see some of the projects that they work on. We walked all over and looked at a number of projects – a dairy project, where farmers bring milk to a large tank (purchased by World Vision) that keeps it cold, and the milk is sold to the community; there was also a nursery, where trees and plants were sold…World Vision funded the purchase of potting bags to help (we bought a tree for 50/= to be planted at WWB); we visited the Gakungu water project, which funded the drilling of a bore hole that goes 60 meters underground to pump clean fresh water to hundreds of homes in the area. It is really incredible to see all of the wonderful work done by World Vision in this area. They have transformed this area immensely.

I have a critical note, however; it appears that, without continued funding, these projects are not self-sustaining! The dairy wants to expand but the tanks are extremely expensive. The farmers that can participate, then, are seriously limited by this and they cannot afford to purchase a new tank. The water project cannot expand without a lot of money (they need to use a massive drill and pay the technicians, as well as pay for pipes). Further, without World Vision, they have virtually no funds. I am working on putting together some information about applying for grants and writing proposals, but I am not really that experienced in doing this, and applying for grants involves a bit of research and internet access. I think the MCEEO is a wonderful organization, and the work it does is crucial. However, I think that it misses a bigger picture, in dealing with the small issues – why are these people so poor to begin with? This echoes something I am learning more and more as I spend time here – the bottom up, grassroots development is critical to promoting fulfillment of basic needs and involving the community in development work. It ignores the major structural issues that plague the developing world, however, such as corruption or a poor business climate, the geographic conditions of an area (why are we importing water to a semi-arid area? This is not long-term sustainable!), and other major issues.

I want to help MCEEO get some funding for their projects, because they are a really devoted and positive organization. I hope to work on this a little when I return home. It is difficult for them to apply for grants, however, as the entire staff are older men who do not have access to internet or general knowledge about proposal writing or even using a computer.

As always, thank you so much for reading! I will certainly continue to post about my situation as it unfolds. I appreciate all the thoughts and prayers of everyone, but most especially my parents, without whom I would be absolutely lost right now.

New Pictures!!!

First and foremost, please click here to see new pictures (all of the most recent pictures will be on the SECOND page). I have uploaded some pictures of the kids, with descriptions of them, because I feel like I have not introduced them properly (I always say I love the kids but they are each individuals with their own personalities and I want to share them with anyone who is reading).

Second, this is a long post because I have been writing it for a few days. I will start with today and then go backwards, ending with some information for people who donated money to me.

Today I went with Burnadette and Hannah, as well as Zach (the orphanage manager) to the old World Vision headquarters, which I described last week. The new NGO is called the Makuyu Community Economic Empowerment Organization. We had a great meeting. Not only do I feel that this new organization has great potential, I think the meeting alleviated some of my concerns about funding at the orphanage and the way that money is spent. I got to hear Zach speak frankly about funding and it was great. I still think WWB needs to work on transparency but I am no longer suspicious that Geoffrey is making some huge profit off of the organization. I am also very convinced that he and Zach are very committed to helping children.

I am extremely glad I orchestrated this meeting; everyone seemed very excited at the prospect of a partnership between WWB and MCEEO. We have some ideas of how to help both organizations. I want to coordinate the policy of sending volunteers to do work for MCEEO from WWB, so as to provide technical support and help in capacity building. Also, I want to brainstorm some ideas to help MCEEO get a sustainable income. WWB relies on volunteers. Eventually MCEEO might be able to do that, but I think they will have a harder time attracting volunteers than, for example, a children's home. Personally I would love to work for them, but I would need a salary to do it.

Another idea is to create a really good website that volunteers who come to WWB and work for MCEEO can share with family and friends at home, for awareness and for fundraising. I do not know how an NGO can be registered as a 501(c) but I would like to look into it...if it is possible, it would encourage more donations.

We learned more about the incredible impact World Vision has had on Makuyu and this whole district. They were active for 18 years and completely transformed the area. Previously, Pundamilia (which means ZEBRA) was actually home to zebras....the area was semi-arid. World Vision was able to introduce new techniques of irrigation and completely change the area to become habitable and sustainable for farming. They have done INCREDIBLE work in this area! I am looking forward to speaking with Zach and Geoffrey to determine what other ideas we can think of to help collaboration between these organizations. 

This organization, to me, has a message of hope. They have made a great impact. Poverty is not solved but suffering is less. I am excited to continue working with them and hope to post more soon.
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As I write this, it is Sunday afternoon, which means rice and beans for lunch. Bored with the orphanage staples, Morgan and I walked to Margaret’s hoteli (Margaret is the women from which we purchase mandazi and chai in the mornings; hotel or hoteli is what they call the little roadside restaurants where you can get traditional Kenyan food). We got cabbage and chapati and chai – it was really good.

The best part about walking through Punda/Makuyu on Sundays is that everywhere you go you hear the singing and drumming and clapping from the many churches along the road. The people here absolutely adore going to church, and its always fun to hear the way they worship. The churches are very small and therefore quite numerous. You cannot walk twenty feet on a Sunday without hearing a different song from a church.

We get to Margaret’s, and since today is Morgan’s last day in Kenya, we talked to her for a while. Margaret is a really interesting and dedicated woman. She has worked extensively with CBOs (community based organizations) devoted to helping those people who are HIV positive. I wrote last week about my visit to World Vision and how the new NGO there funds four CBOs. Margaret works with the health-related CBO to promote HIV awareness and help plant kitchen gardens for people living with HIV. She has also worked to reduce the spread of malaria. Morgan and Eric have visited with Margaret and tried to coordinate a relationship between WWB and the CBO to get financial support for these kitchen gardens (they cost around 2000ksh - $25), but according to management, there is not enough money.

I asked Margaret if there was a way we could help her, by planting or anything along those lines, and she explained that the only way to help is by giving money. The same way that the people at the new NGO told us that the best way to help is by spreading the word to give money, Margaret does not need us, she needs our money.

This is by far the most frustrating part of being in Africa. Everywhere I look, I see the desperate need for money. It all comes down to money. As I have written before, I believe that people here know better than western aid agencies and NGOs what they need. Development needs to come from within Africa. Margaret knows what she needs to help these people, and its not my advice or help – it is my money. On the other hand, giving money freely creates a culture of dependency and undermines transparency and accountability (as I see very clearly at the orphanage). Furthermore, freely funding bottom-up, grassroots level projects in some way can undermine poverty reduction as a whole, as they do not answer the underlying question: why can’t these organizations fund themselves, where did the poverty originate, and are there more basic, structural issues that perpetuate poverty?

I have no answer for this. This trip has been a learning experience for me. I came with the attitude that I would help and change and impact people, but they have changed and impacted me. They have taught me more in 9 weeks than I have learned in my entire first year of graduate school. As I read through my journal and old blog posts, I find that I have gained so much from coming to Kenya and working in this area. I am sure that I have gotten more out of this experience than the children or the orphanage.

However, I am happy to say that I think I have made somewhat of an impact on the kids lives. Our interactions are no longer impersonal; they no longer address me as “volunteer.” They know my name now, and do not hesitate to ask me to play or to help them. As strange as it sounds, they have gotten to know me, and I have gotten to know them, despite the cultural, linguistic and age barriers. In Kenya and much of Africa, people are given a tribal name and an English name. Mwangi is called Stephen, and his Kikuyu name is Mwangi. When he is in school, he will be Stephen Mwangi. It is kind of like a surname (they also have a third name, their fathers name, but mostly the kids go by their English and African names). Anyway, they have given me a Kikuyu name, Wanjiku. So now they call me Emily Wanjiku, which means someone who is cheerful, talkative and smiling. Its such a silly thing, but I feel so loved by the kids and I am so in love with all of them.

I would like to say a huge thank you to those people who donated money to me while I was here…your donations have been a great help to the children and to the community and to the staff. I would like to thank the following people:

Monica Tanner
Matthew Tanner
Bill & Ruth Koptis
Molly Scheetz
Sarah Hacker
Richard & Gail Tanner

With your donations, I have purchased the following (see pictures page for photos of what I have purchased!)

24 new school sweaters for the kids in the orphanage as well as sponsored children
Pots & pans
Apron for Grace
Scrub brushes, buckets and basins for kitchen
New spoons, knives, forks, plates, bowls and cups
Salt shaker, wooden spoons
Two cases of sanitary pads
Three cases of soap
Four tubes of toothpaste
Thread and yarn
8 pairs of new socks for school
Pens, pencils, and file folders for office
New backpacks for nursery children
Two new soccer balls
Balloons (kind of silly yes, but the kids absolutely adore playing with balloons)

In addition, I will be using my brother’s donation to help fund three of the kitchen gardens for the people living with HIV. People who are HIV+ can actually live quite long and healthy lives, but they need to get a proper balanced diet to do this. They need to get fruits and vegetables, in addition to grains, meat and dairy. Creating a kitchen garden allows them to both nourish themselves (and thus spend their money on grains, dairy and meat products), as well as potentially make a small income by selling their produce. These gardens will be planted by Margaret and myself, and Margaret, through the work of her CBO, will ensure their maintenance. This is a gift that “keeps on giving” so to speak; it will benefit these people for a long time. I will post more information and pictures as I move forward with this project. I am extremely excited to get to help these people and I could not have done it without Matt’s support!

Some frustrating news...

I am posting again so soon because something very frustrating and sad has happened at the orphanage. Eric is gone. He has been asked to move to Mithini (where they are building a new school) and will not be back at the orphanage. According to Zach, WWB is discontinuing Eric’s program at the orphanage. We do not know what this means. Eric’s job, which includes coordination of sponsorship for children outside of the orphanage, visiting with families to ensure that kids are getting what they need, and organizing the letters of thanks to donors, is one of the most important jobs at the orphanage. He is one of the most dedicated, passionate and hardworking staff I have seen and it is shocking that he is leaving. Currently, there is no one to take Eric’s place. The orphanage is understaffed as it is, because of Mwangi being in the hospital, and there is no way another staff can take over his work. Zach has chosen not to give any details about the reason Eric is leaving or how they will allocate his work, but Morgan and I had a chance to speak with Eric.

Last year, a volunteer named Alvaro, from Italy, was asked to leave the orphanage and not to return after he began asking questions about where money was going. Pushing for transparency, Alvaro hit a brick wall and was forced to leave WWB, along with many of his fellow volunteers. This week, Alvaro was back in Kenya and met Eric in Nairobi at a day care center. He decided to come to the orphanage to say hello to the kids on Tuesday afternoon. Alvaro flew out Tuesday evening to return home. On Wednesday, Eric went to Nairobi with two other volunteers, and Geoffrey called him to ask if he was meeting with Alvaro. Eric said no. He believes that Geoffrey does not believe him, and that Zach has told Geoffrey that Eric is meeting with or working with Alvaro.

All of this begs the question, so what? Eric knows Alvaro, what is the problem with meeting an old friend? Well, Alvaro’s suspicions of Geoffrey and of management have been troublesome, and by visiting the orphanage or visiting with Eric, he puts Geoffrey’s position in danger. The fact is, no one is really clear on what is going on, and there is no open communication…everyone has this façade of “oh everything is just great, jambo Kenya, hakuna matata.” So, there could be a legitimate reason why Eric is being asked to leave, but Eric has not been told, and neither have the volunteers. In some respects, I understand that it is not the volunteers business how management decisions are made. However, when volunteers provide the primary source of income for the orphanage – in essence, we pay the salary of the staff – I believe it is critical to communicate more effectively with volunteers. I do think that, having invested both time and money in the orphanage, I have a right to know why decisions are made. The top-down structure of WWB is very frustrating, because it leads to speculation (we do not REALLY know why Eric is gone). However, the situation with Alvaro has made us all fearful to ask too many questions. I do not want to be asked to leave, because I have no where to go. This situation highlights some of the negative aspects that I have seen at the orphanage - lack of transparency, lack of communication, and personal politics or family ties being placed in front of the well-being of the children. Eric is by far the most qualified and most dedicated staff member with regards to promoting development in the region and helping the children. He is university educated and could potentially have a better paying job but chose to work for WWB out of a desire to help children.



I cannot articulate how sad, frustrated and angry I am with the way this is being handled. Eric is probably the staff member I get along with the most, and he has been extremely helpful and willing to teach me about life in Kenya. He is bright, caring, passionate and dedicated to Watoto Wa Baraka, and it seems that his service has been disregarded, overlooked.





Anyway, moving on, I am putting my frustrations aside...I will continue to write as I get more information about Eric. I think that now he may have opportunities to do more work in other places, but I am sad that he is gone. I am most sad because I wanted to work with him to sponsor kids in the area, and I do not feel comfortable sending money to the sponsorship program at WWB. I have seen, via field work, where the money from sponsors DOES NOT GO, and I am disappointed that they would send their most vital employee away.

The final countdown

Today is Wednesday, and in three weeks time I will be on my way back home. My trip is quickly drawing to a close and I am struggling to get everything done that I want before I leave.

 This morning, another volunteer, Burnadette, and myself went to visit the World Vision offices in Makuyu. I have been driving past this sign for weeks now and finally decided to check out the office, because I have given to World Vision in the past. I wish I had gone earlier! As it turns out, World Vision left the area last year, but the organization is committed to capacity building and left in place a team to carry on the work done by World Vision. We met with the director and the secretary of a local NGO who work in the offices now. They essentially allocate resources to four major CBOs (community based organizations). CBOs are run by the community and employ locals who volunteer their time. The four CBOs have focus health (mostly HIV), education, water, and food security. When World Vision was here, they sent money to these CBOs and they have done a lot of really great work in the area – the staff told us that World Vision had made an immense impact in the area and would never be forgotten.

 The director and secretary told us that their most pressing need is donations – World Vision, as such a massive organization, had the resources to fund the CBOs effectively, and this small local organization feels frozen by lack of funding. We are going back to the organization on Tuesday morning to see some of the work done by the CBOs in the community, and to brainstorm ways we could help. One idea I have is to speak with Geoffrey about setting up a new volunteer position, where we send WWB volunteers to this NGO (the same way we send volunteers to the clinic or schools…this would be further outreach into the community and could create a potentially beneficial partnership for both WWB and the local organization). They said they need people who have experience in grant writing and people who can do project proposals. I have learned a little about this in my graduate program and I think that I might be able to help, at least a little. We might also be able to figure out a way to fundraise. The problem is that World Vision is a very well-known, transparent organization (and it does not hurt that your donations are tax-deductible). Its easy to donate to them, and its safe because you know your money is being spent well. If we could get volunteers working at this organization, it may promote transparency and we might have the opportunity to get more funding by spreading the word about their needs. In fact, I do not know how I might be able to help this organization, but I am excited to have the opportunity to work with them and I will be excited when I see what kind of work they do. This is the kind of work that I had expected to do when I arrived. I think that it would be great to set up a way for volunteers to come work for this organization.

Anyway, the past week has been flying by since my last post. I am feeling much better now than I did Friday, but still have a terrible cough from the typhoid. Friday afternoon and night I just stayed in bed trying to rest. Typhoid really just feels like a bad cold, and so I am on anit-biotics but I feel fine. As for my salmonella, I do not know if the doctor really diagnosed that correctly because I have not felt nauseas at all.

On Saturday, the orphanage had the sanitary pad program. I do not know if I have written about this before, but basically women and girls from surrounding areas come to visit the orphanage to get sanitary products and hear a lecture on women’s issues. The first time the lecture basically told the women some precautions to take to avoid being the victim of sexual violence, and the speaker also implied that by loving Jesus and being saved, you will be protected – from HIV, rape, etc. This is kind of a typical attitude that God blesses you as he sees fit, and that if something bad happens to you it is God’s will and you should accept it. So to avoid HIV, you would want to be a good Christian, and God will bless you. If you get it anyway, than perhaps someone has cursed you or you were not a good enough person. Its hard to brush this off as ridiculous as it is such a common way of thinking, but in a continent that is being ravaged by HIV, this is absurd. So this month, we had a mzungu doctor (Camille, she is volunteering from the US) speak about the reproductive system, and then she dispelled some of the myths about the morning-after pill and about getting HIV. After the talk, the volunteers convinced Geoffrey to let Camille and a male volunteer, Cory, each give a “sex talk” to the older kids at the orphanage. Since Kenyan schools do not really encourage sex ed, this is a great thing because it allowed the kids to ask questions and learn about the parts of the body and all that. It also gave the volunteers the opportunity to educate them on safety. Premarital sex is kind of generally accepted in Kenya, so it is really important to teach young kids about being safe to protect against HIV and pregnancy – if you simply teach abstinence, it will just not work.

Sunday, I went to Nairobi to watch the World Cup Final, which was fun. I went with Morgan, Laura, Josh and Jan, four volunteers, and we stayed a backpackers on the edge of town. It was really fun to get to watch the game at a place that had both backpackers and locals, and I met this really interesting guy from Kenya who was raised in Canada. He had an interesting perspective on development having lived in both African and Western cultures.

Tuesday, yesterday, I went on field work. We walked really far yesterday, to three different homes – and two of the families were not even there. The charms of this continent, I suppose. Eric makes a point not to tell the families we are coming, because then they will attempt to make chai or lunch for us, and they are already of very limited means. But the downside of this is that they do not know to be present, and so we basically spent an entire day walking to visit only one family. Eric really needs a motorbike so he can get out to the families more efficiently.

 The family we visited was the family of Catherine, one of the kids at WWB. Her father and step-sister and step-brother live in Gathungururu, and her father and sister are HIV positive. They cannot care for her because she is so young (her step-brother is a bit older). The sister, Felister, is sponsored by the orphanage. She is on ARV drugs, which means that her viral load – the amount of the HIV virus in her blood – is already high enough to necessitate her being on drugs. This is pretty bad, considering how young she is – maybe three years old. Felister was sick when we arrived, and considering the family’s poverty she does not get the proper nutrition required by someone living with HIV. Though she is sponsored, she gets the same amount of supplies as all other sponsored children (the orphanage divides the resources equally). They do this to be fair, but she clearly needs more than other children without HIV or living in more well-off homes. I asked Eric if there was a way to give her extra help, and he said that if, when I return, I wanted to privately sponsor her, he would ensure that her family receives money I send.

 Felister’s story is sad but not uncommon, and she is actually better off than most living with HIV because she does receive ARVs and additional support from the orphanage. But it is a terrible story, both for her and for Catherine, who now is alone living in a strange place and will grow up without a family. But Catherine is also very lucky because she is given schooling, clothing, food, medical care, and she has lots of people looking after her.

 Tomorrow I will be going to the Makuyu school to teach. On Friday, I will be finally able to spend the money from donations that I have received (the process of getting it from paypal to my bank account was a little tricky). Eric and I will be going to Thika to purchase soccer balls, office supplies, an apron for Grace, sanitary products, and get some things printed for the microsavings program. As I wrote before, a substantial amount of money will go towards Mwangi's hospital costs. Another volunteer ended up purchasing brand new toothbrushes for all of the kids, so I am asking around to find out what other things are needed at the orphanage. I am so grateful for the donations, and so is the orphanage. Everything I have bought has been so appreciated (when Grace got all the new stuff for her kitchen, she was just beside herself with excitement…and the kids who received sweaters were so extremely grateful).

As my trip draws to a close, I realize more and more how much I do not want to leave Africa and leave the children. Last night, Jane, one of the girls, gave me a note saying how much she loves me and that she wants me to come with her to visit her grandmother. It is so touching and yet so sad at the same time, because it is so unlikely that I will be able to see her again, and if I do it will be at least a year from now (I wonder if she would even remember me?). I am trying to keep as busy as possible to not think too much about it but the idea of leaving Jane, and Diana and Mwangi and Daniel and Julius and all of them behind just breaks my heart.

That is all for today. Thank you to everyone who continues to read and to everyone who has been so supportive. I appreciate it more than you know, to know that there are people back home thinking of me!! In three weeks I will be on the way home and its extremely surprising to see how time has passed.

Life like the Oregon Trail

Short update today, just wanted to tell everyone I have typhoid fever and salmonella. Good thing I spent $100 on the vaccine! Its easily treatable, but I have to switch to drinking bottled water now, unfortunately. I guess the water at the orphanage was not safe to be drinking. Oh well.

Also, one of the children at the orphanage broke his leg - Mwangi, the two year old. He has to stay at a hospital two hours away for 6 weeks and must be accompanied by a staff at all times. I am going to use a good deal of the donated money to help cover his costs and the costs associated with sending staff there (transport and meals). So I cannot really take a photo of this, but the money will be used where it is most needed. Pray for his speedy recovery - he broke his femur and it shoved into the muscle and he is in a LOT of pain.

Thank you to all of those who donated money to me. I should have access to it early next week and will be able to let you know exactly how it will all be spent.

And to all my Clevelanders, have a little faith, we've been through worse before, and besides Lebron's head seems to be getting a bit too big to fit in our fair city.

Mombasa and Uganda

“I want to go to Ghana.” We are sitting on Diani Beach, outside of Mombasa, at a table next to the ocean, watching the waves roll in, and Morgan is telling us that someday, she would like to visit Ghana.

With this simple phrase, I realize that I want to go to Ghana, too; and to Rwanda, and to Congo, and Tanzania. And about fifty other countries, too. I want to see the rest of Kenya, and I want to go on safari. I want to be in places that are like paradise, like where I have been in Diani and South Africa, but I also want to see the places where there is suffering, like the conflict zones in Uganda or DRC. To quote Richard Dowden, Africa is addictive. You cannot just visit one place and be satisfied. It is multilayered and confusing and no one could ever see it all, but there is an urge to see as much as possible, to get as dirty as possible, to learn as much as possible. Culture shock is ever present; day to day frustrations with the people and the customs are constant, but you find, when looking back, that these frustrations are more funny than annoying. That the times when you thought you were having a rough time, you were actually enjoying yourself.

I think most of my closest friends and family know that I have been seriously considering leaving my graduate program, due to both dissatisfaction with the program but also uncertainty and confusion about what exactly I want to do with my life. Coming on this trip would hopefully provide me some clarity to make a decision when I return home. Clarity comes and goes, but I am certain of one thing: I absolutely am in love with Africa.

I will come back to this later – I have just returned from my travel to Uganda and Mombasa, and what an amazing 10 days it was. I already wrote most of the details from Mombasa/Diani, but I will simply reiterate that it was an incredible vacation from the monotony and simplicity of life in Makuyu. I also want to add that my description of the “beach boys” may not be entirely accurate. Morgan and I met a group of them who were incredibly nice and friendly and genuine…we almost did not believe it. They took us to their grandmothers house who cooked us dinner (chapati, ugali, beans, cabbage). We kept expecting them to give us some sob story about how she was sick or something and ask us for money, or for them to suddenly turn sketchy and refuse to let us leave, or something like that. But they ended up paying our taxi home, and they never asked us for anything. When we saw them later on the beach the next day, they did not bother us, but simply smiled and waved. So first impressions can be certainly deceiving.

Diani was so amazing that we ended up staying an extra night, and took the night bus home on Wednesday night, arriving in Nairobi on Thursday. I had expected to leave Nairobi for Jinja on that Thursday evening, but I was tired and so ended up getting a room at the Hilton. The Hilton is like incredibly fancy and ridiculously expensive for Kenya, but in all honesty it was SO worth it; a hot shower and a comfortable bed…I got to veg out and watch movies on TV all day…I got to eat a salad (something I am craving is vegetables, they really only eat maize and potatoes here, and sometimes cabbage). It was seriously amazing. Life at the orphanage has really taught me to appreciate all of the material comforts I am blessed with. We have so many choices in our lives (some say too many choices) and I appreciate this more and more during my time at WWB.

Another volunteer, Giselle, decided to come to Uganda with me, so she stayed the night as well. Two of my friends, Ashley and Rachael, are working outside of Kampala this summer and so we went to meet up with them. We left Nairobi at 8am, and drove up to the border, where it got really hot as we passed the equator and entered Uganda. As we drove north, the land gets greener and more lush. It is very different from the dust covered farms of Makuyu; we pass bright green tea plantations, incredible views of the Rift Valley, thick evergreen forests…Kenya is extremely diverse it seems. Uganda is also extremely green and lush, and very hot. At 7pm, we arrived to Jinja, the town where the White Nile comes out of Lake Victoria, and one of the biggest tourist and adventure spots in Uganda. To get to the accommodations, we must take these bikes called boda bodas, a motorbike. A boda boda is possibly the most dangerous thing I have encountered in Africa. The drivers speed, there is dust flying everywhere and you cannot see anything, especially not potholes and other pedestrians, the other cars are awful drivers. But this is Africa, so we got on the bikes and held on for dear life.

Our accommodations were awesome. A bar and restaurant area is situation at the top of a big cliff overlooking the Nile, and as the sun sets over the river it is breathtakingly beautiful. I have spoken before about the beauty of African people and of the beauty I see in Makuyu and at the orphanage, but Jinja is truly paradise – one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen. We stayed in the dormitories (there was also camping available in tents, and then larger cabin-style houses). The place was packed for the weekend with backpackers and aid workers taking some time off from various volunteer and NGO positions to come rafting. There was also a huge group from Overlands, which is a 40 week excursion where you basically live in this truck, drive somewhere new every few days and pitch tents and hang out. It goes from Cairo to Cape Town.

On Saturday morning we woke up early to go rafting. It was pretty intense rafting, the rapids ranging from grade 2 to grade 5, which are really very difficult to navigate. One of the rapids is a waterfall, where you have to basically fall something like 8 feet or maybe more. It was really awesome – our boat had some good momentum going and we did not flip at all except on one rapid. I think by the end of the day though, our group was hoping to flip over, because its exciting and scary when you go flying off the boat into the water. I would love to go again, it was really awesome. Check out www.raftafrica.com to see the places we rafted.

We stayed at the campsite on Sunday, July 4th, and hung out with new friends we had met rafting. I made it a point to try to eat cheese with nearly every meal as it is so difficult to get in Kenya (this was the first dairy I ate since I arrived in Kenya)…I got omelettes, pizza, paninis. Again, living at the orphanage makes you appreciate EVERYTHING. On Monday, Ashley and Rachael left to go back home, and Giselle and I went to this other place called Adrift to watch our friends go bungee jumping (I did not go because I’ve gone before and it was really expensive). Then we took the overnight bus from Jinja to Nairobi, and returned to the orphanage.

The weekend was really incredible. Uganda is absolutely stunning. Other than the rafting, the food and the beauty of the place, it was really great getting to meet and hang out with other travelers, many of whom share the same passions and interests as I do. It is great finding other people who enjoy traveling and meeting new people, who are interested in Africa or development and in service work, who are friendly and adventurous. It was a great break from the monotony of my days at the orphanage, and I really enjoyed seeing a different part of Africa. Although Jinja is very touristy, we got to meet some Ugandans, which are quite different from Kenyans. They are more sarcastic, they joke around more – they are also quicker to laugh. Kenyans are more serious, and do not always understand sarcasm.

My two weeks traveling is pushing me to rethink my feelings about my future and my career. Africa is like a walking contradiction. It is a land of plenty, abundance of resources, and yet stifling poverty. A people who are easygoing and friendly, yet plagued by war and conflict. Emotionally and physically exhausting, yet exhilarating. Perhaps it is no surprise that despite intense fear and aversion to the idea of living here for an extended time, I feel at the same time drawn to return.

The fact is that I am completely uncertain. I keep rotating between the idea that I love Africa and I could make it working here for an NGO or aid organization for a while (for a year or more), and the fact that I feel ready to come home now, after only two months. The mood swings I experienced in the beginning of my time at WWB, though greatly less severe, still exist. There are moments I love being here and moments I want to run to the airport. It is hard to explain what I am feeling and thinking, but ultimately I just feel torn. I have just under four weeks left at the orphanage, and I am hoping that by the end I will have a little more understanding.

Lastly: There have been several people who have donated to me and I wanted to just say thank you, first of all, and secondly, I am having trouble accessing my account because PayPal is blocking my access in Kenya. As soon as I can get the money transferred I will have the chance to purchase some new things.

Greetings from the East African Coast

I do not ever want to leave this place! But unfortunately I am out of money and obligated to return to Nairobi tonight. Currently I am sitting in an internet cafe in Diani Beach, outside of Mombasa, on the coast of Kenya.

It is like I entered a different universe on this side of the country. There is no burning trash, the streets are clean, all of the restaurants and bars have toilets, with toilet paper, that flush. The people here are better dressed, and are obviously far wealthier than in Nairobi. It is a town built upon tourism, that is clear in every capacity. White people are everywhere, and the locals are polite and catering to tourists - no one gawks at you, but instead just asks you a thousand questions.

We stayed at the Diani Classic Guest House, a cheap but clean room that had a shower and a ceiling fan, so it was pretty great. Its about a 30 minute walk to Forty Theives, the beach bar and restaurant where we hung out but it was a cheap matatu ride to get there. It was breathtaking...the restaurant is open air, with a thatched roof, to make it look "island style." Palm trees swayed in the breeze, the beach was beautiful white sand, the sun was hot...it was like a less expensive version of Hawaii. The weather here is great - hot, sunny, a little humid. It is downpouring at the moment, but as I am leaving today I don't really mind. Compared to Makuyu, where it is gray and cold much of the time, it is really warm here. I am used to sleeping with wool blankets all bundled up at the orphanage so its been great here.

Though it might have been nice to see other parts of Mombasa, I really just enjoyed the vacation doing nothing. I feel rejuvenated and excited to go back to the orphanage. It was just so relaxing and so great to be here, and reminded me so much of family vacations to Hawaii...in fact I keep thinking how much I would love to have my family here because they would love it.

Poverty still exists here, to be sure, but it is more veiled. On the beach, "beach boys" prowl, targeting women who they perceive to be wealthy (generally middle-aged or older, but they try anyone). They flirt, compliment, and sweet talk the women in order to make them feel like a close friendship is growing, and its all quite romantic until they pull out some sob story about needing money. I imagine it works for some of them. Its a strange dynamic with the locals here...some of them are simply just being nice and talking to you, but some are trying to sell you something or get something from you. Its hard to tell which people are being nice though, and of course being young and female you have to be very careful, which can be frustrating because I just want to be nice and just trust everyone.

Tonight I take the overnight bus back to Nairobi and to Watoto Wa Baraka, and then Thursday I leave to take another bus into Uganda, to go white water rafting on the Nile River...check it out here. I am doing the full day rafting and then staying on through Monday to spend time with friends. 

I will be able to write much more when I get back to Makuyu next week, but I'm off to enjoy my last day here!

The intensity of African life

“In Africa, you do not view death from the auditorium of life, as a spectator, but from the edge of the stage, waiting only for your cue. You feel perishable, temporary, transient. You feel mortal. Maybe that is why you seem to live more vividly in Africa. The drama of life there is amplified by its constant proximity to death. That’s what infuses it with tension. It is the essence of its tragedy too. People love harder there. Love is the way that life forgets that it is terminal. Love is life’s alibi in the face of death.” – Peter Godwin, When a Crocodile Eats the Sun, a parting gift from my Aunt Marylee.

Life in Africa does seem far more intense. The act of living is more difficult, requires more strength and more work; it is not simply living, but surviving. Sometimes it seems as though people here have no purpose, that the minute actions of each day do not really achieve much. Women walk to the market each day to get maize or beans, they walk home, they nurse the babies, they cook and clean…and that is all. When we spent 3 hours cooking lunch as I wrote last Thursday, it felt as though it were a waste of time, a purposeless action. But I am starting to see that the purpose of all tasks here seem to be one goal: living. The task of living is all consuming, and there is little time for anything else. When the end goal of your every action is simply your life, then every action is more intense.

Monday I went to Nairobi and purchased sweaters for some of the kids, thanks to an extremely generous donation! In all, 23 sweaters were purchased. This is a great help to many of the children, and they are all very grateful. 11 of the kids live in the orphanage, so I should be able to get a photo of them with the new sweaters. The other 12 live in surrounding areas, so Eric and I will go around giving them out during the coming week. Tuesday we went to hand out some of the sweaters at the primary schools in the surrounding villages. The kids in these villages have seen mzungus before but it is rare, so when we arrive, we are like celebrities. They run after us, shaking our hands and laughing and squealing, their high pitched voices screaming in Kikuyu. They are both excited and scared to approach us, and if they touch us they pull their hands back as if burned and run away giggling. Being in Kenya has taught me so much about children and I absolutely am in love with them all. They are so innocent and uncorrupted by greed and malice and power. If I had to name the thing I will miss the most in Kenya, it will be the children, their voices calling out high-pitched imitations of English (“How are YOU?” “Hallo! Bye Bye!”) and their small hands in mine.

My experience in Nairobi was interesting. I went alone and met Eric there…on the way, my matatu got into an accident and I definitely feared for my life for a second. Morgan and I have joked that the most deadly thing in Africa is the matatu. If you are walking in the streets, they do not stop and you have to run to not hit them (traffic laws seem to be kind of nonexistent here and there are no speed limits or stop signs). If you are riding in one, they go too fast, they do not use seatbelts, and they cram 23+ people into a 15 person van so its not the easiest to get out of if it were, say, on fire. Anyway, we all got out of the matatu and got another one, but its difficult for me because I do not speak the language and am immediately surrounded by hawkers who see mzungus as a meal ticket. Eventually I find a new matatu and make it to Nairobi.

When I get to Nairobi, Eric and I walk to a massive open air market where thousands of people are selling second hand clothing and shoes. Let me interject here – when you donate clothes to charity, it does not look like they actually are donated to people here, for the most part. Instead, they are actually sold and provide a living for many people. While this might seem like a scam – someone is profiting off of your charity – you should instead see it as someone’s livelihood. Your charity is not providing someone with a shirt, but with a business and regular income. This is far better than a shirt.

As we walk through the market, I am met with the usual gaping stares and pointing. Eric used to have a stall here before he worked at WWB, and he had a lot of friends still working at the market who were excited to meet him. At the stall where we bought the sweaters, I got two marriage proposals. Many of Eric’s friends greeted him Kyalo (Pronounced Challo) which is his tribal name and they assumed that I was his mzungu wife (a claim he did not seem to dismiss! Eric has told me he wants to marry a mzungu). As soon as they saw me they just laughed and laughed and said “Where did you find this mzungu? Why did you bring the mzungu?” People were taking my picture and were trying to shake my hand all over the place.

The market was typical of African markets – open air, stalls made of wooden sticks and plastic bags, ravines of filthy water, trash and human excrement running through the path. Women and men sit among their wares, wrapped in beautiful African cloth and talking and laughing. Buyers come and browse and purchase large bolts of fabric, thread, clothing and shoes. As a mzungu, I am grabbed and lunged at; in fact it was the first time (other than the matatu accident) where I felt scared. I was certain to clutch my bag close to me. After we bought the sweaters, we walk to the edge of the market and through a slum to catch a matatu (but a far bigger one this time – some in the city are more like buses than anything, pumping Kenyan rap music excessively loud). This area was pretty disgusting but also enlightening to see how people here live and work. Shacks made of cardboard and steel, trash everywhere, children running naked through the area. I would never have felt safe walking here without Eric, and would never venture here after dark, even if I were with 10 strong Kenyan men. It is the opposite of much of what I have written in this blog; there is suffering there, and squalor, and it is very much a picture of the antithesis to rural life in Kenya. It is quite staggering to see.

Nairobi is dirty, strewn with litter and dust, the streets choked with cars, buses, matatus and endless lines of people all trying to get somewhere. It is vast and crowded, busy and poor. The city seems to be a combination between first and third world (if I may use such outdated terms) as there are some tall buildings and strong stores, but they are ever surrounded by the dirt of Kenya and the millions of tiny storefronts that sell phone credit, candy, newspaper and assorted random junk. They all sell the exact same things, so I have wondered how they make any money at all…I used to doubt that the economic model of perfect competition actually exists in the world but it appears to exist here; many sellers with exactly the same product, and no seller can make a profit in the long run.

Well anyway, after we get on the matatu outside the slum, we take it to a clinic for children with cerebral palsy. We had little time but enough for the supervisor to explain to me how broke the clinic is; they rely on donors primarily for their income, and medicine and physical therapy for the kids is insanely expensive. Things like exercise balls are prices far above what we pay in the US because they must be imported and there is virtually no demand. I used part of my parents donation to give them Ksh1000, a small sum but helpful nonetheless. One of the problems at the clinic is that those families that can afford care will go to expensive clinics, and thus are unwilling to donate to the free clinic (which provides care for free, asking parents to donate ksh500 if possible). The clinic requires half a million shillings per month. Another problem is that in Kenya, like much of Africa, despite a firm belief in the church and Christianity, people here believe that if something bad happens to you, it is likely a curse that someone has put on you, or it is God punishing you. It’s a culture that sometimes ignores science (and this is evident in the HIV/AIDS pandemic) that leads parents to abandon a child with cerebral palsy (a cursed child), and especially leads fathers to desert their wives who give birth to such a child. It’s a terribly sad story.

Eric and I had the chance to talk for a long time all day, and its great to talk to him because he is a really intelligent person. He graduated with a bachelor’s degree in development, and we have the most wonderful conversations about development, politics, religion, economics, Africa and the United States…I am beginning to care deeply about him and hope that we are able to stay in touch when I leave. He shared with me a lot about his past and his family, and the circumstances that led him to work for WWB, in a job that does not really pay that well but allows him to provide for young children. Growing up in an extremely poor household, Eric essentially watched his father work himself to death to feed the family, passing away when Eric was only 10 years old. He has committed himself to working to help children so that they will not have to experience the same tragedy. Eric is a clear example of the resolve and passion of many Africans, who remain happy and joyful despite a troubling and difficult life.

This past weekend we had the monthly microsavings meeting. The microsavings program was begun by a volunteer who was here for around 6 months, nearly 2 years ago. He invited several women from the nearby village Mihang’o and explained to them the program. Basically, you save 10 shillings per day (70 per week) and give it to WWB, who safeguards it. At the end of 52 weeks, with 3640 saved, you earn 10% interest on your savings, bringing your total to 4000 shillings. At this point, you can either continue saving, or you can withdraw your savings and borrow up to 4000 shillings (so basically, the incentive is to first learn to save and show your ability to make weekly or monthly payments, before you get a loan – and, when you get the loan, you also get your savings back so you get 8000 total shillings). Then the women have one year to pay back the loan without interest. After one year, they are charged 10% interest on the remainder. It is a pretty great program, with around 25 women involved, and the women have been able to cooperate and work together to democratically decide how the program will run. Though a volunteer began the program, the women are in control of it, and it is a stunning example of development from within Africa, designed by Africans.

It could be better with more members and more organization, and I have taken some steps to better organize the binder, but I am finding it difficult to do much more. This is because to some extent the staff here simply humor the volunteers…Eric asked us to speak at the meeting but he wanted us to just say things like “Save more money” and “Buy a pig/cow/something to bring in money with your loan.” These are things the women already know! And of course, they will listen politely and profusely thank us for coming, and really we’ve made no difference. This is in part because we are only here for so long and it is unrealistic to expect us to know much more or make better suggestions. It is also just that the program works and the problems faced by the women (theft of their pigs or their bicycle, simply not enough money to save, or someone gets sick and they must use their savings to pay the medical bills) are not something that I know how to solve – at least not yet. And solutions I can offer are often from my western point of view and difficult to really implement here. There are so many cultural barriers to really working with the people here, things that I cannot quite explain in words but just something that I feel. I have trouble communicating with Eric sometimes and its frustrating, and I am not angry with him but with the situation.

“It’s always instructive to observe the life cycle of the First World aid worker. A wary enthusiasm blooms into an almost messianic sense of what might be possible. Then, as they bump against the local cultural limits of acceptable change, comes the inevitably disappointment, which can harden into cynicism and even racism, until they are no better than the resident whites which they have initially disparaged.” – Peter Godwin describes what I am feeling. But I feel less disappointed and more hopeful because I feel that us first world aid workers may not really be necessary. Africa, I think, no longer needs our old colonialist guilt, it does not need to be viewed as a helpless charity case. It needs to be respected and it needs us to demand responsibility from its leaders. It needs the western world to leave it the heck alone and let it figure out what it needs on its own. Then, if they need our help, if they ask for our help (and I mean the people, not the tyrannical corrupt leaders that treat the treasury as a personal bank account), then we might get involved.

The longer I am here, the more I see how wrong we’ve got it – not just aid workers, not USAID, UNDP, World Bank and IMF, not just missionaries, not just NGOs…we’ve all got it wrong. Its not our job to “fix” Africa. Doing so implies that Africa is not capable on its own, and it implies that only when Africa reaches our definition of “developed” it will be fixed. Our definitions, our concepts, our entire way of looking at the world, perhaps they are all simply not the right definitions for Africa. In fact, Africa, as I have written before, knows better than anyone what they need. You can point me to a thousand civil wars and murderous conflicts that lead the developed world to conclude that Africa is incapable of self governance – and I can point you to the colonialist, imperialist meddling that led to those conflicts. In fact, the very foundations of African states is colonialist in nature – imagine if the colonists had not established nation-states in Africa, but instead kept the traditional political structures in place? We accept nation-states as the only legitimate form of governance, and they “work” for us. We have yet to really see a nation-state model work for Africa, save perhaps in Botswana and maybe South Africa. Personally I think it was simply the wrong type of government to be put in place in this region, but its too late to fix that now. I think maybe our best option is to just back off of telling African states what to do, however, because we are consistently wrong in what we tell them.

This week was the first Sunday I have been at the orphanage, so I was going to go to church with the kids – the service is in the hall where we eat at 10am on Sundays. However, the entire thing is in Kikuyu, so I cannot understand what is going on. They do, however, have the most wonderful songs. They sing often after dinner, and on Fridays before dinner, banging a drum and yelling in Kikuyu. I asked Priscilla what the words mean and she said, they are just saying hello to God and singing praises. They know a few English songs, no doubt taught by past volunteers, such as Lord I Lift Your Name On High (though they do not know the hand signs to go along with this and I am teaching them) and Our God is an Awesome God.

That is all I have for today. Friday I leave for Mombasa with Morgan and Rory (two other volunteers). I will be there until Tuesday night, when we take an overnight bus back to Nairobi.

Happy Fathers Day to my father and to both of my grandfathers! I love you :)

My week thus far...

First of all, some confusion about donations...you donate directly to my bank account...this is because I am the one who will be going to town to buy the sweaters and other supplies we need. Its not that I do not trust the orphanage but volunteers do not have a say in how donated funds are spent, so a lot of us simply purchase items we see are needed.

Second, thank you to my parents and grandparents for their generous donation. I have more than enough for the sweaters and will post what else I purchase for the orphanage soon.

So today is Friday and I have not updated since Monday, but there is not much going on really. I will try to recap my week. On Monday morning, I took Mwangi, the youngest of the kids, to the doctor. He was the only one of the kids who had not yet gone to the doctor so I offered to take him. Only when I returned did I realize it was my first time leaving the orphanage and going on a matatu alone (Mwangi does not count, because he is 2 years old and does not speak English). Of course, Makuyu and Pundamilia are safe areas to be alone in but still, most people here speak English only a little so its better to not be alone.

Mwangi was a champ on the matatu. He is in the stage where he repeats everything you say so I got him to say, “My name is Mwangi” which is so adorable. I also taught him how to say “blah blah blah” a few weeks ago and he always says it to me. He loved waving at people as we drove and he is just the cutest little boy in the world. At the doctor, he did not even flinch when they drew blood from his arm. Sometimes he can be very difficult and since he does not really understand us, he often does not follow directions, but he was really well behaved at the hospital. I was supposed to get a stool sample from him and enlisted the help of a nurse to explain what he needed to do (I do not know the word for poop in Kikuyu) and he tried valiantly to deliver, but alas, we will have to go back another day.

Tuesday I went back to Nairobi to buy souvenirs and gifts for people. After my awful experience bargaining on Sunday, I improved considerably and was able to get really good prices on most things I bought (but was still ripped off on others). It is exhausting bargaining. You pick what you want, and they are so so friendly, and promise a good price for any number of reasons (“You’re my first customer” “You’re a student” “You’re from the U.S.”) and then they give some insane amount. The rule of thumb is to divide their price by 10 and start there – they say ksh8500 ($105) and you say 850 ($10.50). They will laugh at you, get angry, act shocked, etc. It is like this long drawn out drama but ultimately it does not matter how angry they get, I choose in my mind the absolute limit and once I get there, I walk away. They’ll usually run after you eventually because they are desperate to sell their products, and they want you to think they’re doing you a favor. But they have a limit too, of course. Anyway I still have more gifts to buy but I get bargaining now and even though I do not really enjoy it, it can be fun when you get a great deal.

Wednesday, I went to Mathini, the village where WWB is building a new orphanage. Actually, I should say the village NEAR where the new orphanage will be, because the actual village is kind of far away. We leave a little after 8am, and we take a matatu there. It is a long drive, around 40 minutes, on a crazy bumpy road that feels like a wooden roller coaster in the matatu. Out here, it is even more rare to see mzungus (it is rare in Makuyu and Punda but they are used to seeing us volunteers from the orphanage, though that never stops them from staring…and laughing…and running up at us to touch our skin and then running away) and we are pointed at and gawked at as we drive by. It takes a while to catch the matatu (we have to get off one and take another one…matatus are like a bus system). When we arrive, its almost 11am, the guys begin carrying word and us females begin preparing lunch.

Now imagine you are going to build an orphanage or a house or something and you have to go a long way from home. You pack some water bottles, and some sandwiches, fruit, and maybe sodas, into a cooler, and you go to work. Not in Kenya. Here, we pack the following: several whole heads of cabbage, carrots, potatoes, onions, tomatoes, flour, sugar, salt, cooking fat, and seasoning. We bring pots, pans, knives, a ROLLING PIN, a griddle…we fry up the vegetables and make a sort of stew, then we mix the sugar and salt into hot water and pour it into the flour, mixing with our hands. We make small little balls with it and roll them out flat on a little stool, and then fry them on the little griddle, to make chapati. All of this is cooked on an open fire, in the middle of the bush. It took us three hours. It was an incredible lunch, much better than anything we normally eat at the orphanage. I had so much fun cooking with Martha and I loved learning to make chapati. I look forward to making it at home for my family, it is really really good. But really??? Three hours to make lunch? We could have packed something far more quickly!

But that is the way of life here. And to be honest, the day in Mathini was one of the most fun days I have had here. At the orphanage, many of the staff seem overworked and burned out. I think this is especially the case with Grace and Jane, who do most of the housework and chores there, and they really never get a day off. The men, who work far less, are much more prone to idling around, joking and laughing. They say Africa is slow, not busy, and it is sometimes called lazy. I’d venture to say that African MEN are lazy and its women are always busy! Regardless, we had a lot of fun joking and laughing at Mathini. Like my days on field work with Eric, it gave me a chance to ask questions and learn more about life here. Martha explained to me that it is not illegal for men to beat their wives or their children here. She asked what it was like in America, and I explained that women have legal rights against men to not be beaten, but sometimes do not take advantage of those rights, and that children can be removed from a parents care for excessive emotional abuse, let alone physical. I also explained that you can be put in jail for being excessively cruel to your pets, at which Martha just laughed. She thought I was joking.

Thursday morning I woke up feeling kind of sick. It is winter here, and it is cooler, like September or April weather. But it is too cold for the kids, and they all get sick around this time. Runny noses mean germy kids, and we are constantly holding hands and playing with these germy kids; all the Purell in the world does not kill all the germs. I took some vitamin C pills and stayed in bed and I am feeling much better.

Each day I feel I get closer and closer to the children. I have been trying to read some of their files to learn a bit more about them. Most do not have a listing for their parents death, which leads me to assume it is HIV/AIDS, but some have meningitis or typhoid listed as their reason for death. A lot of the kids here are siblings, which I did not realize. Some of their folders listed their preferences (favorite foods and such) and their likes and dislikes. A few of the kids broke my heart – one of them, their biggest fear was that no one at the orphanage likes him. And he is the sweetest boy in the world, so quiet and shy but so adorable and sweet. Another wrote how much he missed his sister and grandmother, who live nearby but cannot afford to support him. Most of them say they hate talking about their problems. One, Damaris, was forced to move to Makuyu area with her grandmother when their home burned down with all of their possessions in the post- election violence. Its really frustrating sometimes because I want to talk to them and make their lives better but I know they are not comfortable talking. Once, I asked Anastacia about her brother and she completely closed up, even though he is still alive and lives nearby. I think I have to just settle for being someone fun to hang out with and a role model for good behavior to the kids; I am not here long enough to become someone in which they can confide.

Other than all this, we’ve been watching a lot of soccer games here. Or as they call it, football. I never watch soccer at home but its fun to get into a sport with all the kids and of course fun to watch such a big event. This is the first time the World Cup has been hosted in Africa, and we are all rooting for African teams. The African teams have not been doing all that great but we cheer for them anyway. Every afternoon, we sit on wooden benches in the hall and watch the games, and many of the older kids are really into watching. The younger ones just cheer for whomever we support. Soccer is a remarkably simple game to watch and understand, unlike football and many times unlike basketball. It is certainly more exciting than baseball. It kind of reminds me of hockey on grass without sticks. And without fighting. (Speaking of sports, I have to say I am really glad I am not in America to listen to the speculation about Lebron James, virtually none of the other volunteers follow the NBA – but a lot of people in Nairobi do, and they like the Lakers…coverage of the finals has been in the papers).

Some of the volunteers and I plan on going to Nairobi for the final game, whoever plays. Of course, I never stay awake until the end of the last game (which starts at 9:30pm here, 2:30pm Ohio time). I’ve fallen into a wonderful habit of getting 9 or more hours of sleep per night. I get in bed at 9pm, and I fall asleep by 9:30 or 10. I wake up at 7am or so. It’s awesome, but it means that I simply am unable to stay up past 10pm.

Well, that is all I have to say for today. Not much that is super exciting over here, but I feel pretty comfortable and I feel as though I have fallen into a good routine. Life is good. I leave a week from today for Mombasa; we will take an overnight bus from Nairobi to Mombasa, arriving Saturday morning, and I will be there for 4 days and three nights. After this, I will come back to the orphanage for one day, and then leave for Uganda to go white water rafting on the Jinja with two of my classmates from Pittsburgh. I am really looking forward to both of these trips.

Thanks everyone for reading!

This time for Africa!

Love for Kenya and for Africa is growing on me every day. I will not say I want to stay here for good and I do think that at 11 weeks, I will be ready to get home, but I am really learning to love, appreciate and respect life here more and more.

I am continually surprised by the lack of suffering. Despite poverty and hardships, there is continual joy and happiness. It is striking how content people are. I do not know their hearts, but I do not get the feeling that any of them want to be extremely rich (or rather, that they are trying to get rich). Instead, I feel that they just want to work hard, grow their crops, support their families, go to church...in other words, just live. Just be.

The desire to be better and to improve oneself is not necessarily a bad thing. Without it, the western world would not have many of the comforts we now enjoy. Each of these comforts are provided to us because someone saw a need, and, in striving to improve their own lot and their own life, has fulfilled it, thereby improving OUR lives. Indeed, our entire economic system is based around the principle of self improvement. There is not anything wrong with this.

But it is astounding how different life appears to be here in Africa. It is not that people do not want to improve themselves or their lives, but they seem to be aware of a limit, of "good enough", and can be content. To phrase it better, they wish to improve their lives, but they do not desire it so strongly that the quest to do so makes them miserable. This is not a generalization of Kenya or of Africa, but just what I have seen here. The people seem contented, they seem happy. They seem to say, "if my life improves, that is good. I will work hard, I will endeavor to be better, but I will never let that endeavor leave me discontented." It is remarkable how different this is from America, where the ceaseless quest for improvement, growth, betterment, literally takes over our lives and becomes an end in itself. It often leaves us empty and always wanting more.

I expected to found suffering and found more joy than I see in America. It shows so clearly that poverty is only a small part of life in Africa, instead of the defining factor. I believe that this joy and this contentedness may stem from the close social ties of society here. The people are never lonely. Families are close knit and live together or nearby. Women are always laughing and walking together as they take over the multitude of daily chores they must complete - cooking, cleaning, taking care of the children, each of which is infinitely more difficult than it is at home. I wish I could describe how vibrant and ALIVE they seem, and how closely connected they seem, to each other and to their children and to their husbands and to the earth...I cannot accurately describe them and others here, other than to see I sense a deeper connection with humanity than I have seen before. I think that this is what brings people joy amidst their hard lives.

Anyway, time is moving on here, slowly but steadily, blurring together. The World Cup has started and immense pride at the games being here in Africa (for the first time!) is evident among all the Kenyans with whom I speak. A new song by Shakira is played at every commercial break, proclaiming, This time for Africa. We watch the games on a tiny TV in the hall, the kids crowded around on benches, and one holds an old radio which broadcasts in Swahili or Kikuyu. The TVs picture is about 6 seconds off, so we heard the announcers shout GOAL in the US-England game before we saw it. The kids support African teams first, and then whatever we tell them to support.

Thats all for now. As of tomorrow, I have only 7 weeks left in Kenya, a surprisingly short period of time it seems now. Who knew?

A look at rural Kenyan lives

First things first: to the many people who want to help the orphanage and the children, please click here for information on what we need and how you can help.

So it is Saturday and today is the Sanitary Pad Programme here at the orphanage. Around 2pm, a number of women from the surrounding community as well as girls who are sponsored will arrive and they receive parcels of sanitary pads. Then Priscilla, the teacher at the orphanage, will present some sort of programming about women's health and other women's issues. I am looking forward to seeing how this works. To donate to help buy the sanitary pads, click the link above.

The past couple of days have been pretty relaxing. On Thursday, I went on field work with Eric, which was great. We visited some of the homes of the sponsored children and we basically ask questions about how the kids are doing, and their health. The best part of this is seeing how the families and kids live. We learned that several of the kids in the orphanage have families outside of the orphanage. For example, Anastacia is one of our girls, and her brother and her were found abandoned in a nearby village. This family adopted them and took them in but cannot support them fully, and so Anastacia lives at the orphanage, while her brother stays with the guardians and they are given food and supplies to help him.

Another family was a 14 year old boy and his baby sister. The father died of unknown disease (likely AIDS) and the mother was killed in a road accident. Their older sister took care of them for a while, but she was recently married, so the 14 year old had to drop out of school and is now taking care of the baby sister. This is how AIDS devastates the community - it leaves orphaned children who then must act as caregivers and cannot go to school. So not only are the adults wiped out, young generations are not educated and often are terribly poor.

Each of the families we visit is poor by American standards, but some are better than others. Anastacia's adoptive family was not destitute by any means. They were elderly but vibrant and healthy - they were TALL, which is rare as you get older here, and well fed. Most of the homes here, I will try to describe...its a small plot, maybe 250 feet or so long on each side. About half or a third is used for growing maize, beans and fruit trees. Then there are 3 or 4 buildings, made of rough exposed brick (wealthier families smooth over the brick with cement) and a corrugated steel roof. They construct gutters to feed into a giant water container for irrigation or drinking water.

The buildings house the family usually, and the family units are much larger, as uncles, cousins, grandparents, all often live together. We never see where they sleep but we have seen the living room areas. They are dark - no electricity, just a radio powered by batteries - but inviting. Low wooden couches with cushions surround a low wooden table. Sometimes decorations are on the wall - calendars and pictures of Jesus are pretty much the usual. They have a separate room or building for the kitchen, usually a wood fire to boil and cook over. In some homes a traditional kitchen is constructed, which is a round hut with a thatched roof (see my pictures to see this). They often offer us chai or fruit. There is a separate building for a toilet, and around the compound the paths and ground are red dirt, swept daily and very clean. Often there are rough wooden benches around for sitting, and various washing basins and laundry lines are everywhere.

The people are always so welcoming. Often they do not speak English, and they never know we are coming, but they always say to Eric to tell us thank you for coming and they are so happy we have come. Imagine if someone just stopped by your home or work while you were doing stuff (and they ALWAYS have stuff to do - chores and laundry and work and cooking) and wanted to sit down and talk, and they have brought foreigners who do not speak your language, without an appointment? You'd be probably irritated and you certainly would not be falling over yourself to welcome them and thank them. That is one of the biggest cultural differences in Africa that I have seen - how despite the many many terrible circumstances, I have never heard anyone complain, they are always smiling, laughing and ALWAYS welcoming us. When I walk down the street, I am always greeted warmly and waved to by EVERYONE. Now, I know this is because I am mzungu to some extent but they are that friendly to each other too. It is really quite remarkable.

Thank you again to everyone who is reading. Its really been a challenging 3 1/2 weeks but I am really starting to adjust and learn to love Kenya and Pundamilia very much.

Enjoy your Flag Day in America :)

HOW TO HELP THE ORPHANAGE

A number of people have asked how they can help me or help the children when I am here. Thanks to the number of generous donors who helped me get here, I have everything I could need here, but the orphanage and the children are always in need, so if you are at all interested in helping, read on. There are options for even the smallest budget.

If you are interested in donating for any of the following, please use the PayPal button at the left to donate to me with a credit card or checking account and send me an email designating how you would like the money spent. As receiving packages is very costly (the government will probably rifle through your package and then charge me a high free – aka a bribe – to collect the package), sending money for me to buy these items is the easiest way to help.

I think the most expensive, immediate and pressing need is the school sweaters. After that, we have a number of more general needs that I have listed. Other than that, we need sanitary pads, first aid supplies and office supplies.

Thank you so much for your generous support and consideration. All donations will be appreciated by the children and the orphanage staff!

General
A lot of stuff here is just old, worn out, and gross. The kids toothbrushes are disgusting and they all need new ones. They also need to regularly buy toothpaste. Washing basins are always in need, as is laundry detergent and soap. They buy water purifiers (bleach) to throw in the well, and that is always needed. In the kitchen, Grace desperately needs more bowls, plates, knives, cups, buckets, and she would like an apron. The kids would like a new soccer ball (theirs are all punctured). This is an unlimited category and we have MANY needs here! Any amount if appreciated.

School Uniforms
It is winter here in Kenya, and while for me that is quite warm (upper 60s), for Kenyans this is very cold weather. So they bundle up in hats and sweaters for school. However, a few of the kids at the orphanage, and many of the sponsored children outside of the orphanage, do not have sweaters and are very cold! Eric (the social worker) has said this is a pressing need. I have a list of the kids who don’t have sweaters and each will cost around Ksh500 (about $6.50 each). There are a total of 20 kids who do not have sweaters, so the total cost will be around $130. Any amount would be great.

Sanitary Pads
Once per month, sponsored girls and their female guardians come to WWB to pick up parcels of sanitary pads. They usually have some sort of speaker or some sort of lecture where they can hear about women’s health issues. A package of 10 sanitary pads costs Ksh50 (around 60 cents or so). Its incredibly cheap for us but most families cannot afford to continuously buy these (especially when they are faced with choosing between pads and soap, for example). As this is a continuous need, any donated amount is helpful.

Office Supplies
The WWB office is kind of shambles. The filing system is a mess, and there are never enough office supplies. We need things like pens, pencils, staples, tape, file folders, etc. Office supplies are boring, I know, but we do need new things. I would estimate no more than $20 is needed to buy the supplies.

First Aid
We have a relatively decent stock of first aid, but with 33 kids living here, it needs to be restocked regularly. Includes band aids, antibacterial creams, gauze pads, rubbing alcohol, latex gloves, hand sanitizer, etc. I would estimate around $20-$30 to fully restock the first aid cabinet.

Larger Donations
If you are interested in helping the orphanage further, the following are larger and more expensive items. Please e-mail me and we can discuss details:
• Livestock (cows, pigs, chickens)
• Food (maize, rice, beans)
• New toilet construction
• Bore hole (well for groundwater)
• Child Sponsorship

New Pictures, and a long post :)

So everyone keeps asking in what ways they can help me out over here. Let me start by saying THANK YOU so much for the offers, I appreciate it. Unfortunately I cannot receive care packages but flat mail is great. If you can send a CD with children's church or gospel songs on it, that is flat and would be great!!! The kids like to sing and we do have a CD player.

I cannot think of much else people can do for me - but if you want to help the children, the best way to do this is sponsoring a child outside of the orphanage. I am working currently to try and organize the sponsorship program better so I will post information on this soon.

As for helping the kids out with medicine for de-worming, this is really difficult to do because we don't know exactly the cost of the medicine and what everyone needs. I will certainly post that information when I have it.

Now onto more important stuff....Its been nearly a week since I have updated! After my weekend in Thika, I did not feel it was necessary to get back online for a few days so I waited until today. Thika was alright – crowded and dirty and overwhelming – but fun and nice to get away from the orphanage for a couple of days and nights. I was able to get some office supplies to help me organizing the microfinance binder, which I have almost completed. Tuesday, we went to the doctor to get all of the test results for the children – each of them has worms or amoebas in their stomach. It is likely from the fruit that we eat, we pick it right off of the trees. Some of them must go in for further testing, as they may have malaria or typhoid. I’m not sure how WWB plans to pay for the medicine to get rid of the worms (they will need to administer de-worming tablets every 3 or 6 months to all kids and staff, or else stop them eating fruit entirely).

Yesterday we went to Nairobi to visit the Children’s Garden Home, another orphanage outside of a slum in Nairobi. My old roommate, Stella, worked there for a week towards the middle of her stay and had such a wonderful time when she stayed so she encouraged us to visit to get an idea of what other orphanages are like. The Children’s Garden is a far cry from Watoto Wa Baraka. I am going to try to explain it as best as I can – I was not allowed to take pictures there so I want to write it all down.

We take a matatu from Pundamilia into Nairobi, where we meet Stella, and she shows us to a bus that will take us to the slum. The bus drives us through one of the wealthier areas of Nairobi, which is probably like middle-class America. There are nice apartments surrounded by massive stone walls covered in barbed wire. This is definitely still the developing world but the region is nice and I would be comfortable living there. But suddenly the scenery changes abruptly – the nice homes are gone and replaced immediately with small store-fronts made of sticks and corrugated metal roofing (basically, these are standard all over the rural areas where I am but they were less in Nairobi, except on the outskirts). The road becomes dirt and there is standing water in pools all over the place. We get off the bus and walk through the slum.

I want to add here – this was the business part of the slum and thus I did not see the residential area. However, I have to note that this slum did not seem as bad as one of the “nicer” townships in South Africa, where homes were made of pieces of plywood, one family into a box the size of an SUV. So while I would not say that this slum was a nice place, it was certainly nicer than slums in one of the most developed, if not the most, countries in Africa.

Okay, so back to today. We walk from the bus to the orphanage, which is actually right outside of the slum. The orphanage has a tall, 4-story building that houses dormitories for the 200 children that live there. The building is adequate, with limited electricity and no running water but many beds and rooms for the kids. Out back is a large field for soccer and basketball, some latrines, and a large hall where the kids do dancing and singing and recreational activities. They also have a dining hall where the children eat, and one cow to give milk to the small babies. Next to the rec hall, they have the school – the orphanage hires teachers and thus has its own school. This helps cut costs because they decided together to not require uniforms and they can also reuse the books easily.

The children range in age from babies (several months) to 16 or 17 years old. They have kids in primary school (standard 1 through 8) and kids in high school (four years, form 1 and form 2). The kids are plucked from the streets, where many have fled from physical and sexual abuse, or simply poverty. Some of the girls were prostitutes and many of them are HIV positive. When we arrived, there was a stark difference in the way the staff welcomed us to the orphanage. They explained that the kids were in desperate need of a mother and father figure, that many of them have heartbreaking stories to tell and that with time they would open up to us and embrace us with their stories. They emphasized several times that the children need guidance from adults desperately.

At WWB, the focus was more on the various chores and work we would be doing (rather than spending time with the children) and there was no mention of acting as a role model for the kids, but instead more as a friend to play with sometimes. To me, it seemed that at Children’s Garden, the staff and volunteers focused on the children – they organized sports teams, they competed in African dance and drumming, they emphasized the role we could play as mother or father to these children…they do not have volunteers working outside of the orphanage in field work, either. At WWB the emphasis was on how we help the orphanage and the Makuyu community – with the money we gave, the chores we participate in, the field work or outside work, etc. I think this is partially because it is a more rural community and thus the kids did not come from the streets. Now, the children at Watoto Wa Baraka have had hard lives – their parents have died of HIV or other diseases like typhoid – but their lives are so much easier than the kids who grow up on the streets. Street kids have had to grow up fast; they have seen things that the average person only sees on TV or in movies. So I understand the stronger focus on working with the children directly. However, the stark difference from WWB further cements some of the feelings WWB volunteers have (namely that we are more like a walking bank than someone who is really going to make a difference in the children’s lives). I say this not to criticize WWB but merely to highlight one of the significant reasons that WWB and many NGOs may face funding problems: they treat their donors and their lifeblood like moneybags and are less focused on doing good work than they are on raising money. WWB does do good work – they have helped many many kids and families in this area – so again, this is not to criticize but instead to simply note a huge difference.

While I am content to stay at WWB, I love the children and I am enjoying my time more and more each day, it is evident that the children at the Nairobi orphanage stand to benefit far more from donors money and from volunteers. If I ever choose to return to Kenya for something like this, I will work there instead of at WWB. I am even considering spending a week there towards the end of my stay.

My time in Kenya seems to be moving faster than I realized. Each day feels like a lifetime, but even so, I am suddenly to the 3-week mark and realize I only have 8 weeks left. I already feel like a local sometimes – when we saw mzungus in Thika this weekend, we pointed and gawked, haha. But of course I am mzungu and that fact immediately makes me an “other” in the eyes of Kenyans.

There are so many things here I already know I will miss – the children, of course, their sweet laughter and smiling faces, and their ignorance of the world around them – there is something spectacular about children who do not know television or Barbie or McDonalds, who do not know what they are “missing out on” so to speak. I’ll miss the long and often hilarious conversations with Eric about politics and religion and development and how he sees all of these things in such a different light than me. Our very simple desires – for people to be free and prosperous – mean very different things for each of us. But we both agree that we want people to be happy. I’ll miss the calm of the countryside early in the morning…even with the cows, pigs, roosters, and the sound of the children in the morning, it still feels so calm here when we wake up. Mornings are my favorite time here, when it is still chilly enough to see your breath and you sip on hot chai and watch the haze melt away over the countryside. This area is relatively flat, green and brown grasses and bushes cover the ground, and the earth is red…it is not beautiful in a traditional sense but the beauty overwhelms you in some way. It’s the people of Kenya against this backdrop – the women in their traditional wraps of beautiful bright colors, often carrying a baby or a massive bundle of grass or sticks on their backs – the precious babies who laugh and giggle no matter what language you speak – the children in their school uniforms, whose high pitched voices yell “How are YOU?” every time they see mzungus walking through the village – drunk men in Makuyu on Sunday afternoons who react wildly to seeing white girls bargain at the market – the constant smiling and waving and greeting that you receive (mzungu or not) from every person you pass – these are the scenes that create beauty in Kenya, that hide the shack homes, the barefoot children, the flies, the dust, and the smell of burning trash that pervades everything.

I realize this is a long post but I feel like I’m finally “getting it” and understanding that my purpose here may not be to create real change, but instead simply to absorb, to learn and to experience a different world. Only when I gain this understanding is it worthwhile to try and make changes happen for people.

Thanks for reading!