Juice, Uvulas, Almost Halloween

I have made a deal with myself, no more drinking the local water. This deal includes juices and anything else made with the water. I got into the habit of accepting a cup of water here and there whether at the school or on the weekends at a hotel or restaurant but I have been paying for it with an uncomfortable stomach. I have a water purifier in my room and bottles of water are easily accessible so I figured, there’s no reason to drink potentially harmful water. That is until I passed the ever so tempting juice man who has a stand between Kris’ house and mine. He makes the most delightfully refreshing tamarind juice with little shards of ice in it. It’s such a treat to have a cold beverage in Takaungu. I have settled for room temp (more warm really) water but sometimes I can’t resist this juice stand. Since my stomach has been in kinda bad shape I decided it was time to give up the juice and stick to the purified water, however, Kris and I strolled by today and were quickly drawn to the juice man and his stand. He had large buckets of brightly colored mixtures, the outside of them sweating. I knew they were cold and had to know more. We stopped by and asked. One bucket was a blended fruit mixture: pineapple, banana, mango, papaya, COLD. The other bucket was avocado juice. He recommended they be mixed together. I was sold. I knew these slushee purées were mixed with local water but I made the snap decision that maybe a little stomach trouble would be worth it. It was so hot, I had a fresh sunburn and nothing seemed more appetizing. Plus, how can you beat 35 shillings per bowl? That’s like 50 cents. So 2 fresh bowls were prepared and the man led us to his 1 table and only 2 chairs. Kris and I thoroughly enjoyed every spoon full of our icy fruit treats and laughed about how the whole scenario was unlike anything you could find in the states. So far so good, my stomach is holding up, which is good because we have already told the juice man that we would see him bright and early tomorrow morning for another bowl full.

Yesterday I did home visits in Takaungu with Mohamed. I had been told about a medicine man in the village whose specialty procedure is removing children’s uvulas (the hangy ball in the back of your throat) with a blade to cure a persistent cough. He normally has a gathering of women and small children waiting in line to be next for the cough cure. I asked Mohamed to take me there in hopes of experiencing one of these procedures but he had no clients. At our next house we met a women with a few kids, one of them coughing. She told Mohamed that she was taking the girl to the medicine man to have her uvula removed the following day. Mohamed looked at me and smiled, “do you want to go?” he asked me. I knew I had other obligations so had to decline; my only concern being that a clean blade would be used. Although I don’t know if removing someone’s uvula will cure a cough, I am no doctor and it is something people in Takaungu have been doing for years and years. Really is it harmless, unless the blade is being reused. Mohamed and other CHW’s really pushed to educate mothers and the medicine man about the importance of using a different, clean blade for every child and so far so good. The next house Mohamed wanted to check up on was of a woman who was pregnant last time he’d seen her. He had heard that she’d delivered by cesarean 10 days earlier and wanted to see how she and the baby were doing. We were invited in and immediately the woman looked at me and asked, “Would you like to hold him?” I was flattered; he was so cute and brand new. I held him while Mohamed asked a few questions and reminded the woman of the baby’s first vaccinations then on we went. Shortly after we got caught in the rain and had to call it a day.

I have finished “28 Stories of AIDS in Africa” which I recommend to everyone, whether you have a particular interest in Africa or not the information provided is shocking and inspiring. I feel it’s definitely something every person raised in a “developed” country should read. I enjoy books that put a little perspective on things and really open your eyes to events that are happening now. Tonight I will start “Wizard of the Crow” by Ngugi wa Thiong'o which I’m excited about. I have also rekindled my relationship with Bob Marley. It’s been so long since I’ve listened to him, I think I was saturated for a long time and had to give it a rest. It’s so nice to hear again.

Today Kris and I journey to South Coast for a weekend away. We have 2 nights booked at a hotel (with running hot showers!) but perhaps will be camping the second night. Right now we are in Mombasa having a quick meal and beverage and enjoying the fast internet connection. We have to hop a ferry to get to the various matatus that will take us to our final destination. The ferry, from what I've heard is jam packed with people because it's free and running rampant with thieves. Before leaving Takaungu everyone took a minute to tell me about their friend, or friends friend who was robbed on the ferry. SO, I think Kris and I are going to call Tony the taxi driver to escort us. Paying him will be worth it since we don't have to pay for the ferry, plus he will be our body guard. It’ll be an adventure. I’m most interested to see how Kenyans are going to react to a large group of foreign people dressed in costume.

Happy Halloween everyone! I will be thinking of Tooth’s front porch and my home loves and Birdie in her little monster costume, I can’t wait to see the pics!

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The Latest

October 27, 2009

Last night the rain was so loud it not only woke me up but wouldn’t let me go back to sleep. In between the bursts of downpour the frogs came out. I had been told about the frogs when it rains but until last night hadn’t even seen one. Before bed I saw one skipping across our outdoor kitchen, I should have known I’d be hearing from them. I could count 3 different kinds of croaks, working together in a frog orchestra all night. I have screens in my windows, but no actual windows as it’s just too hot so the noise (and mosquitoes) flood in. I read a lot before bed so the dreams swooped in between the rain and the frogs and somehow one of my legs shimmied out of my mosquito net leaving it exposed and creating a hole for the blood sucking disease creeps to come on in and help themselves. I was a feast for the mosquitoes. *sigh* Speaking of wild life, there was a scorpion in my bathroom last night. I have gotten used to the cockroaches and even some of the spiders but I don’t think I’ll be getting too friendly with the scorpions. I’ve been told only to fear the small ones, as this one was. Maybe it was just a baby version of the big less harmful ones.

Today I went with Mohamed and the other EAC CHW’s to Kianda, a neighboring village to Takaungu. We have a monthly theme that we take from village to village; homestead-to-homestead to teach about, this month was family planning. People were receptive and open to talk about what family planning methods they were using, if any, and how they felt about it. The depo shot is common here which is an effective means for those who can’t get to a clinic easily. The villages can be quite remote. We saw newborn babies, pudgy toddlers, mothers of multiples and a man dying of AIDS, he’s 29. He told us lying skinny in his bed that he resisted getting tested for a long time because he thought he was ill due to witchcraft. He had sought medical attention from a local medicine man with no positive results. Finally he went to a hospital and was tested, positive, and started ARV (antiretroviral) treatment. He says he feels better because he’s able to sit up on his own. Today I saw and experienced things that up until now I had only read about in the books that have inspired me to come to Africa. It’s both humbling and motivating.

Every second here is a photo op but not every photo op is appropriate. It’s so tempting to whip out my camera every chance I get but many of the women are shy and skeptical about having their picture taken. Plus I am the only white person walking in a group of health workers so already I feel lucky to be welcomed, especially since we are always talking about such sensitive topics. Today was like something from a photo journal. The tall palm trees and jungle atmosphere and mud brick houses with palm-thatched roofs. Women in brightly colored fabric with babies tied to their backs and enormous piles of firewood or buckets of water balancing on their heads. I take pictures when I can and the rest I make mental notes of and try to draw pictures with my words.

Yesterday Saadiya left for Mombasa, and Nairobi with her husband who has flown in from England. He lives there and has come to sponsor her for a visa so her and her son can move there as well. This is an excellent opportunity for them. Saadiya is young, educated and eager to work but there just aren’t any jobs here. Last week I quizzed her with her visa application and I think she’s good to go. So, that leaves her mom and I together for a week with no common language. I thought it the perfect opportunity to start Swahili lessons. Last night was my first lesson with Saade, which I am exchanging for swimming lessons. I told Saade it was absurd that she has grown up by the sea and can’t swim. She informed me that all the boys in Takaungu can swim, but none of the girls which I think is because the girls are raised to be so modest in their dress and demeanor whereas the boys are taught to be boys and explore and do all of things that kids should be doing, giving them more opportunity. When her 2 younger sisters heard that we would be starting swimming lessons this Thursday they quickly signed up. Hopefully in no time we will have a group of Takaungu girls swimming like fish and I will be speaking Swahili. We’ll see.

I just finished “The God of Small Things” which was good but a bit confusing; I may revisit it while I’m here. A few days ago I started “28 Stories of AIDS in Africa” which has completely stolen my attention. A reporter traveled Africa telling 28 peoples stories of how AIDS has affected them, representing 1 for every million reported cases in Africa. The number is almost certainly higher than 28 million but it impossible to know for sure. The stigma attached to HIV/AIDS is almost as harmful as the disease itself, so many people are dying quietly and alone to keep their disease a secret for fear for being outcast by society and family. It has taught me things I never knew and given me some inspiration for next year’s curriculum for the primary school kids. It’s so hard to know how far you can take certain topics with the young kids, but since they’re the ones starting to have sex I have to figure out a way to be frank without confusing them. Also it’s difficult because we have to teach abstinence, by way of law (I don’t really want to spend time in a Kenyan prison). Abstinence education is unrealistic but for these kid’s ages 12-15 they really have no business having sex anyway, in my opinion. So I figure if we arm them with the cruel hard facts they’ll just be too scared to do it, then when they’re a little older and start learning about safe sex they’ll apply it to themselves.

Thanks for reading guys! p.s. I figured out the picture thing. <3

Dreams, Goats and Adult Education

My anti-malarial medication is causing me to have the most bizarre dreams. Vivid lucid dreaming is one of its side effects; at first I experienced nothing then all of the sudden it’s been nonstop. I had a dream that was so colorful and so loud I’ve never experienced anything like it before. I was floating through outer space and could see earth approaching. An asteroid whizzed by me and headed straight for earth. I braced myself and as the gigantic rock struck our planet. It blew apart in pieces of cloth, earth patterned cloth. From the center of this cloth earth things flew out and past me. A pair of lips, huge and brightly colored swam by saying something, I can’t recall what but I remember thinking it was so loud. Math equations and symbols flew by. It occurred to me in my sleep, “I have figured it out, all of it, the whole universe.” And bam it was over.

Last night I woke up laughing, at what I don’t know. Often times as I’m wakingup in the morning the dreams flood back to me but by the time I’m fully awake they’re gone. People I haven’t spoken to or seen in ages appear in my dreams. I dream all night. It can be almost maddening but sometimes kind of cool. I just remind myself that it’s better than having malaria.

Last night Saade informed me that Vutakaka primary would be having a staff party today (Friday) and that a goat would be slaughtered in the morning for the occasion. I had the noble notion that it was something I should experience, and if I wasn’t tough enough to see the slaughtering then I wasn’t tough enough to eat the goat. So, she told me it would take place at 7 am at the school and not to be late. When my alarm sounded at 6 I quickly noticed it was pouring rain. I thought, “eh, it’s raining, I’m sure there will be another goat opportunity while I’m here”, which was half apprehension, half not wanting to start my day off soaking wet. I text Saade and told her I wouldn’t make it to the slaughtering. At 8:30 she called me in an excited tone and said, “they have waited for you to slaughter the goat, get down here now!” So that’s what I did, first I scooped up Kris and off to the goat we went. I could hear it bahhing before I got there, it was sitting tied up to a tree, black and white spotted, the best looking kind of goat in my personal opinion. In no time Mr. Omar, one of the primary school teachers and Katana and Kanga the grounds keepers were on the goat. Mr. Omar in his teacher attire, nice slacks with a fresh button up shirt neatly tucked in rolled up his slacks and sleeves and unwrapped a tarnished machete from it’s paper casing. Within moments the goat was on its side and its throat cut, within 5 minutes it was dead (you have to allow time for it to bleed out). I experienced the slaughtering. Slaughtering, not killing as Saade has diligently explained to me. “To kill is to take a soul without a purpose, when we slaughter we do it for the meat, it has a purpose.” This makes sense. It’s difficult to explain to people here the disconnect Americans have with the meat they eat. Trying to explain slaughterhouses and mass killing machines cause confused faces.

I got a close up view for the skinning and asked a few questions and took some pics. The skin will probably to go drum making and the meat; we ate later in the afternoon. Deeeelicious. The Vutakaka cooks, one being Saade’s mom Mishi made quite a meal.

Between the slaughtering and the feasting, (these things take preparation) I went with Mohamed to our first adult education health class, Topic: HIV/AIDS. It was awesome, in Swahili so I didn’t understand everything but he’s such an excellent teacher I got the gist, and having made the curriculum with him helped. I handed out condoms and asked questions later. 47 students were in attendance, 40 women, 6 children latched onto their mothers, and 1 man. It reminded me a little of high school with giggles and funny questions and comments of, “Oh! I didn’t know about THAT!” Many of these adults are just learning to read and write so Mohamed and I thought it the perfect opportunity to do lessons on HIV/AIDS, family planning, nutrition, vaccinations and a laundry list of other things. I have mapped out the curriculum, which is always subject to change, but today was a great start. The class expressed interest in getting tested so Mohamed and I will meet with the head nurse to schedule a time for HIV screening. The key really is providing the education and opportunity and the rest follows. Today, almost 50 people learned new things that could potentially save their lives and are armed with new knowledge that will better their lives and the lives of their children forever. That’s an incredible thing.

After everything Saade and I took our semi-nightly walk down to the postcard beach with some young girls in tow and sat and chatted. About multiple wives in Africa as opposed to America, about guys, and train trips, about the ridiculousness of tanning beds and how we’re so alike for so many different reasons.

3 weeks ago I didn’t know how I would be able to stay, now I don’t know how I will be able to leave.

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The above scribble scrabble is courtesy of Awade who wondered into my room and found my computer sitting on my bed while I was having my nightly tea in the sitting room.

QUESTION: The pics from my Nikon D70 have saved as NEF instead of JPEG and from what I understand are Raw? These pics won’t load onto my blog, any suggestions?

It's now Saturday and Kris and I have had our most successful Mombasa trip yet. I am a sucker for African fabric and stocked up today. The EAC sewing ladies are like wizards with their needles so I'm going to pay them a visit on Monday to have some things made, skirt and bags and such. I got my halloween costume! a Kenyan soccer player! I got the sweetest Kenya jersey with KEYES on the back. I bought it to wear to the party next week but primarily as a gift for my bro when I get home. Now we are enjoying a few Tuskers before we hit the road back to Takaungu.

Until next time, Cheers!

Thursday, Kilifi

Kris and I are at Titanic, a neat bar in Kilifi. Reggae and piki's are in the background. It's a good place to hunker down and do some internet research, for work and fun : ) I am getting waves of motivation for Kenya and for when I return home.

Apparently there is going to be an EAC teachers party with the slaughtering of a goat tomorrow which I'm really excited about.

This weekend will consist of gathering Halloween inspiration in Mombasa and the chowing of crabs in Wataumu on Sunday with Kris and Kate.

For now I am going to try and get some pics up (I know I keep saying that) but now I have a pretty solid internet connection. Fingers crossed!

Word of wisdom: there is a niche in the world for everyone. Find it. I wouldn't say mine is Kenya precis but Kenya may help me find it. The world is big, search it. Enough philosophicalness for now.

So far so better.

October 21, 2009

It’s been 21 days and I am feeling much more settled than I expected to feel 21 days ago. Adjusting was more difficult than I thought, and wanted for it to be. It’s been an adventure since day one. After flying from New York through the night to London, resting for a 10 hour lay over sleeping on a broken bench in Heathrow (most confusing airport on the planet), flying to Nairobi then to Mombasa to be greeted by Tony the taxi driver with my name on a sign I felt like I’d been spit through a time warp. Tony, a friendly Kenyan man helped me with my bags and we took off only to be stopped by a female cop moments later. She was standing in the busy street and motioned for Tony to pull over. He looked stressed and this made me nervous. She helped herself to the back seat and motioned for him to drive. He asked if I had 500 shillings on me, which I discretely handed to him, which he tried to pass over to her, as a bribe. She spoke angry Swahili words and before I knew it we were pulling into the police station. He got out, asked me to stay put and went inside. Images of “Locked up abroad” popped into my head and I sat still in the sweltering heat with the windows open trying not to make eye contact with anyone. A van pulled up and cuffed men were escorted into the building. I waited for about a half an hour and Tony reappeared, I immediately calmed down, a little. He explained to me that something similar to his registration was expired and the bribe really pissed her off, even though he had bribed her for the same thing less than a year ago. So we continued on to Takaungu, which after almost 30 hours of travel was the last stop.

The first few days are kind of a blur, lots of sleep, lots of water, some eating. In my house is Saadiya (my host mom) her mother Fatima and Saadiya’s 16-month-old son Awade who is beyond cute. He’s my little rafiki and we have made our own quasi Swahili, English, sign language language. Saadiya is the only one who speaks English, which usually calls for a half hilarious half embarrassing situation. At night the sitting (living) room is full of 15-20 people from the village, usually cousins, nephews, nieces and the like. Kenyan soap operas on DVD and Hindi films in languages no one understands are typically the flicks of choice. Films in languages no one can comprehend lend a bonding experience. I have been reading a lot. Averaging almost 2 books a week. TV is a rarity, which is for the better for a number of reasons. Houses that do have and watch TV are stuck with Tyra Banks, and Chuck Norris Texas Ranger. Electricity comes and goes, as does the water, which sounds more difficult than it really is.

I have been working primarily with a community health worker named Mohamed who is a local Takaungu man working to service the community in a number of ways. He works for the EAC and along with other CHW’s travels to surrounding villages giving talks about family planning, handing out condoms, educating people about HIV/AIDS, weighing babies monthly and overseeing vaccinations. I have been tagging along with him for my time here which has been truly eye opening and amazing. It’s nice to be at such a local level. Along with Mohamed I have been working with Saade, a teacher at the EAC primary school. She and Mohamed travel to surrounding schools as well as teach to the Takaungu and EAC (Vutakaka) schools about the dangers of teenage pregnancy and HIV/AIDS. These issues are paramount. So few girls move onto secondary school (our equivalent of high school) due to pregnancy it’s alarming. This means they’re getting pregnant mostly before the age of 15. I have been working with these people to develop curriculums for the coming year that are appropriate for the ages and send a strong message. This can be frustrating because the Kenyan ministry of education recently banned safe sex education. Although we cannot hand out condoms and give demonstrations to the youth at school we can for the adult education and community classes and perhaps we can refer the youth to the health clinic for after school info. We’ll see.

Other than that I have been getting used to my surroundings. Takaungu is on the coast, the scenery is stunning. The Indian Ocean is pristine and the beaches are something from a postcard. The local beach is not a destination for local people beyond fishing so typically you can have the beach all to yourself. I went snorkeling the other day with some friends, it was amazing. Eels, gigantic sea cucumbers, lionfish and so much more. I am paying for it with my sunburn but it was so worth it. The people, especially the children are amazing. I think I may be the first white person some of these kids have seen, you can tell by the look in their eye and the way they try to hide behind their mother’s knees. I find this amusing and kind of endearing. Mzungu is often how I’m referred to when walking around, which literally translates, according to my Swahili dictionary as 1. European person 2. wonder 3. innovation 4. ritual. Depending on the tone in which its spoken it can feel like an insult but usually I don’t take offense.

Transportation is another point worth mentioning. In Takaungu there are few cars, really probably only 2 or 3. The “roads” are dirt paths often full of puddles if it rains. The rains are short this time of year but the loudest strongest rains I have ever heard. It will rain for only a few minutes at a time but will wake you out of a deep sleep. But anyway, the main mode of transportation is the piki piki, or motorcycle. You only have to walk a few moments before a piki driver will offer to pick you up. From there they will take you down the long dirt road connecting Takaungu and the Malindi-Kilifi highway. From there you wait at the “stage” or bus stop for a matatu. This takes some getting used to. The matatu’s are small Nissan mini-buses no younger than 20 years old filled to capacity at all times that FLY. It can be a little frightening at first but they’re quite effective. Both these modes of transportation are extremely affordable, less than 1USD typically to get to where you need to be.

Swahili food is interesting. A lot of frying. Fried dough’s, fried potatoes, little fried triangles with green peas inside. (All of these have official names, which I will master.) Fresh fish locally caught and a lot of rice. There is no drinking in the village, well there is but it’s palm wine and typically drank in secrecy. The village is a pretty conservative place, mostly Muslim, some Christian and on the outskirts the more “traditional” Giriama people reside who practice traditional religions, witch doctors and such. I spend time outside of Takaungu on the weekends where a few Tuskers are a real treat, which is a Kenyan lager. The heat is brutal. We are almost on the equator so it really never cools down however you do acclimate. It gets dark at around 6:30pm. I have tried to explain to some locals the wonder that is the changing of seasons on the east coast of America and day light savings time, which has blown quite a few minds.

Sooooo, that is the background. Internet is a tricky thing and everything takes a lifetime to load, so pics might have to wait. It’ll be worth it : )

Today, Oct. 21 was an interesting day. Saadiya (the only English speaking person in the house) is in Mombasa until tomorrow so it was up to her mom and I to communicate, somehow. I decided today would be a good day to tackle my first load of hand washed laundry. It really was quite hilarious. Between Saadiya’s mom, myself and an older local woman within an hour my clothes were clean and hanging from the line. Throughout the process a goat wandered through the doorway, a crow (they’re gigantic here!) swooped down and stole a piece of fish left over from lunch and a feral cat ate what the crow dropped from the roof. Soaking wet and laughing between misunderstood languages I felt quite accomplished. From there I enjoyed a relaxing bucket shower (I recommend this to all, even if it isn’t your only bathing option) and spent a lot of the afternoon reading, and checking on my laundry drying in the sun. Later the electricity went out which is always laughable at night. It allows for the most spectacular night skies. Outside, with nothing to do but check on my laundry again a small boy and I caught a shooting star, just a little moment that made my heart swell a bit. One of the uncles who was over at the time remarked, “I bet this never happens in America”, I assured him that if bills weren’t paid and even sometimes when the weather is terrible it does happen in America. You don’t need a reason for it to happen here. He replied with, “I lived in Saudi Arabia for 12 years, never happened there.”

This weekend Kris and I (a fellow volunteer and pal from Portland) plan to go into Mombasa to look for Halloween inspiration. This being a holiday not celebrated, and rarely heard of in Africa should be interesting. I’m psyched about a Halloween party on the South Coast with other volunteers, Peace Corps and VSO peeps. It should include camping on the beach and some good old-fashioned western debauchery in costumes.

Side note: roosters really do cock-a-doodle-doo at the crack of dawn and baby goats are difficult to decipher from baby humans when crying.

There is so much more, and will be so much more. For now that is all. I think I have come up with a strategy to update more often so stay tuned!

p.s. I am ravenous for some new music, throw any suggestions my way!