The rains have finally come. Thank you el Nino! On my way to school the other day one of the shops I walk by was playing the 'bless the rains down in Africa' song. I thought it was highly appropriate and started the day off well. When it rains too hard, it is impossible to teach because the classroom's have tin roofs without a ceiling. It is both frustrating and exciting. I love extreme weather. Not that a steady rainfall is extreme in normal circumstances, but in Namanga it is. We have not had a real rain since somewhere around February or April. Of course the skies decide to let loose right as the students in my Form 1 agriculture class are starting to give presentations on their assigned chicken breeds. It is hard to be frustrated when the students are smiling and jumping in their seats yelling over the sound of rain on the roof that now they will have milk! Something that I never would have thought of at home (mostly because Vermont usually has no lack of rain) but here, at the end of a 5 year drought, no rain means no milk. The biologist in me gets super excited to see how fast Namanga responds to rain. It seems like you can almost see the plants growing and the insect diversity has increased exponentially. The animal lover in me struggles every time I see a cow that is so skinny it looks like if I just touched it, it would collapse; and they are everywhere! If you pay attention in the matatu you can see dead ones decomposing on the side of the road. The home-maker in me is annoyed because my laundry will never get dry. The teacher in me is happy because now some of the Maasai students can return to Namanga after herding there cattle elsewhere in search of grass. The Carly in me smiles every time I get stuck outside in a rainstorm, even though the Mamas think I'm crazy.
My third term and first year is coming to an end. Like the two terms before it, this one was not without its challenges. With A LOT of encouragement from my parents I'm doing some serious practice in the art of being a duck. If you don't know what it means to 'be a duck', ask my dad. I think that I might be a duck expert by now. One of the many things I've realized in this whole experience (in case there was any doubt) is how much I love/need running. I can't really run here. I can, but now that my running partner moved away, it is an extra challenge to go. I love the kids, but if I'm running to relieve stress it doesn't help to have them yelling 'Mzungu, mzungu, mzungu' the entire time. In august I bought a jump rope to try to replace running. It will do for another year, but it certainly isn't the same. It turns out thought, that it also helped me make friends in my compound. I didn't even think about it when I bought it, but the kids that live near me LOVE to jump rope. They are getting pretty good. The other good thing is that I can do it before the sun comes up. I used to get lectured about my safety when running in Corvallis at 4:30am; to do that here would just be asking for trouble.
Lately, Ive had these weird realizations that when people look at me they are seeing an adult. When did that happen? Primary students have run to get me to break up a fight. My female students ask me questions about how to deal with boys, what to do if they think they are pregnant, and how to deal with their parents. Part of me feels like I'm entirely unqualified to be dishing out advice, mostly because I don't feel like an adult. The other day the matatu guys were trying to guess my age. They thought 19, still technically an adult, but barely.
I have almost hit the year mark from the day that I arrived in Kenya. It is crazy to think that a year has gone by since I woke up from spending my last night in my parents house and thought 'oh shit'. It is funny to look back on all of the little kenyan subtleties and things that i've learned. This past weekend I had a few moments of confirmation that I've adjusted. I took a student and her mom to the district hospital which is about an hour away. We were supposed to meet at the matatu stage at 8am. At 8:45 we were ready to go. When I first got to kenya I would have been thoroughly annoyed, but now I'm surprised when things are only 45 minutes late. We piled into the back of a matatu, 4 people where there should only be three. They kept piling people in every time we saw someone on the side of the road. Not only was I NOT bothered by the extra people, I found myself wishing for more. My logic may be completely off, but I figure that if we get in an accident, more people means more cushioning for everyone. I also realized that if I ever had to teach kenyan students about the tragedy of the commons, a matatu ride would be a great example. I walked into the hospital, and was pretty clearly the first white person they had seen there in a while. That may be an incorrect assumption, but the stares said "what is a mzungu doing here?' Instead of being bothered by the stares, I smiled and walked past them. On the way out of the hospital to catch a matatu home, the mom asked if we could stop at a town on the way to see her other daughter. When I first got to Kenya I would have hesitated: Would I have to eat meat? What if they ask me to pray? Do I have the energy to be the new 'mzungu' in town? Will I get home in time to get my work done? But this time there was no hesitation, and I was happy that I went. The matatue ride from Bissil to Namanga was even more classic. 5 people sitting where 3 should be, and it may have been possible for someone to get drunk off of the matatu tout's breath (at least it wasn't the driver). When I came home, the two little twin girls that live on my compound followed me into my house. I might want to take them home to Vermont with me (their mom offered, but I think she was kidding). They take their shoes off on my steps, wait for me to open the door, and then make themselves at home on my couch...this makes it all worth it.
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Thursday, August 6, 2009
I just finished my 2nd term of teaching (only 4 more left) and am now able to take a few deep breaths. Last night I sat down and just realized that it was my last day of teaching for a month! I can't imagine how American teachers feel when they get to the start of their 3 month break. It is amazing how different the last three months have been compared to my first three months in namanga. For one, I'm now 24, which means taht I've become much more mature (right!). My Kenyan birthday was a little different than any American birthday that I've had: no one in Namanga knew; I spent the day proctoring mid-term exams; and my birthday present to myself was a papaya, yogurt, and a WARM bucket bath. It was amazing. I met up with a bunch of volunteers in Nairobi for the July 4th weekend. it was an odd combination of America and Kenya. America, because I was with more Americans than I had been around in a while, and there were sparklers. Kenya, because we had Ethiopian for lunch, and nyama choma (roast meat) and ugali (like really this cream of wheat) for dinner. It was also Kenyan because I didn't get to claim my spot near the cemetary for the Williston 4th of July parade, dance with the Jazzersizers, and race to catch the candy. I didn't let myself think about it too much, or I would have really missed home.
Many PCV's talk about how they have so much free time on their hands. Where did MY free time go? I don't have a radio, TV, or computer, but I haven't yet had the chance to be bored. My Kenyan co-workers are baffled at how I can keep myself busy on the weekends. Between writing letters home, drawing posters of biological structures, planning for the next week of school, cleaning my house/clothes/sheets/me, baking, and lots and lots of reading, I don't find time to feel bored. They also don't understand how I am not lonely. many kenyan women my age have already started their families. I try to explain that I'm not ready, that I can't even commit to a cat or houseplant, but I'm not sure that they get me. In Kenya, people don't tend to be along by choice. I cannot deny thinking about home at least once a day, but I wouldn't describe myself as homesick. It is more a way to keep my mind busy. I think A LOT about what I want to do when I return, how I wish taht I could see the babies that have been and will be born before I come back, and many many hours of retracing my corvallis marathon training steps to make up for only running once a week here.
Being a teacher with PC, as compared to other assignments, gives me the advantage of never having to question WHAT I am doing here. From day one, I knew where I would be on Monday through Saturday. I have had to ask myself whether or not I am really helping, if it is really effective for schools to have PCV's. If it is looked at strictly from an educational curriculum perspective, the answer is a definite No. The kenyan education system is very rigid about what facts, details, drawings, and practicals are taught. No one would know that more than a Kenyan who has been through the system. They take a national exam at the end of 4 years of secondary school. No one will understand the exam like a Kenyan. The fact that my school gets a science teacher virtually for free is for sure helpful, but at what educational cost to the students? They have to spend so much energy just tring to understand my english, and to sit patiently as I try to think of real life examples of they whey are learning in physics, biology, or chemistry that apply to their lives. For example, I was just eaching about liquid pressure in physics. I wanted to give them an example of where you can actually feel the pressure increase as you go deeper. The first thing that came to my mind was swimming. The problem was that most of the students had never seen a swimming pool, the ocean, or even a lake. It challenges me, which is what I was looking for in my experience. I know that I am learning, becoming more confident, and growing, but I want that for them too! The conclusion that I've come up with to make myself feel better, is that I'm not just here for the curriculum. All of the students are learning to work with and learn from someone from an entirely different culture. They have learned that there is poverty in America, though I'm pretty sure that they don't believe me. They are learning how to teach someone about their culture and language and food. They are still trying to figure out if Tupac really is dead.
The other day, as a tourist bus passed me on the tarmac I couldn't help but think of how different their image of Namanga is from mind. They see it flash by their eyes as they are zoning out to their ipod or look up from their book. Why are their heads always facing their laps? Don't they realize that the world is outside of the bus? It makes me appreciate that I am experiencing Kenya the way that I am. I am living in namanga on my own. Entirely on my own. I have joined a community by myself in a culture other than my own. I am actually experiencing namanga. As the tour bus rode by, I looked around to see what they would have seen as their entire image, or impression, of namanga; a snapshot. There was an mzee (old man) communicating using mostly his hands and arms, much like a bird taking off for flight, and a little unsteady on his feet. There were many wazee taking chai at Al Yassin (my favorite hoteli). The Masai mamas were at their stations, ready to swarm any bus that stops to sell their beadwork. The Somali men were relaxing outside of Baba Halima's shop. And many many lorrys were lined up at the tarmac. They don't get to see the warm smiles on the market mamas faces, or how beautiful the hills are when the sun is rising. They don't have to watch dogs mistreated or children hit. They man see children in dirty rags, but they don't see the full effect that poverty can have on ana entire culture or community. They don't see my students, who sometimes are so hungry they cannot concentrate, offer me half of their orange. They don't see how much they are affected by a lack of resources, but how much their faces still light up when I say 'good morning' or try to speak kiswahili (or kimasai or kisomali). Namanga is growing on me...
Some side notes:
-I got to pet a 2 week old camel
-I went to a nearby shamba (farm) with a friend to see the destruction caused by elephants. Banana and mango trees were knocked down and they ate all of the maze. They left the kale and spinach. I put my hand in one of their footprints...they are HUGE
-Lately the children on the compound have been halping me fill in my water buckets. They are under two, so by helping I mean they follow me from the outside tap into my house, again and again. They are pretty cute.
-Termites are taking over my house!
-Anytime and American visits me, I spend the next week explaining that they are not my brother or sister
Many PCV's talk about how they have so much free time on their hands. Where did MY free time go? I don't have a radio, TV, or computer, but I haven't yet had the chance to be bored. My Kenyan co-workers are baffled at how I can keep myself busy on the weekends. Between writing letters home, drawing posters of biological structures, planning for the next week of school, cleaning my house/clothes/sheets/me, baking, and lots and lots of reading, I don't find time to feel bored. They also don't understand how I am not lonely. many kenyan women my age have already started their families. I try to explain that I'm not ready, that I can't even commit to a cat or houseplant, but I'm not sure that they get me. In Kenya, people don't tend to be along by choice. I cannot deny thinking about home at least once a day, but I wouldn't describe myself as homesick. It is more a way to keep my mind busy. I think A LOT about what I want to do when I return, how I wish taht I could see the babies that have been and will be born before I come back, and many many hours of retracing my corvallis marathon training steps to make up for only running once a week here.
Being a teacher with PC, as compared to other assignments, gives me the advantage of never having to question WHAT I am doing here. From day one, I knew where I would be on Monday through Saturday. I have had to ask myself whether or not I am really helping, if it is really effective for schools to have PCV's. If it is looked at strictly from an educational curriculum perspective, the answer is a definite No. The kenyan education system is very rigid about what facts, details, drawings, and practicals are taught. No one would know that more than a Kenyan who has been through the system. They take a national exam at the end of 4 years of secondary school. No one will understand the exam like a Kenyan. The fact that my school gets a science teacher virtually for free is for sure helpful, but at what educational cost to the students? They have to spend so much energy just tring to understand my english, and to sit patiently as I try to think of real life examples of they whey are learning in physics, biology, or chemistry that apply to their lives. For example, I was just eaching about liquid pressure in physics. I wanted to give them an example of where you can actually feel the pressure increase as you go deeper. The first thing that came to my mind was swimming. The problem was that most of the students had never seen a swimming pool, the ocean, or even a lake. It challenges me, which is what I was looking for in my experience. I know that I am learning, becoming more confident, and growing, but I want that for them too! The conclusion that I've come up with to make myself feel better, is that I'm not just here for the curriculum. All of the students are learning to work with and learn from someone from an entirely different culture. They have learned that there is poverty in America, though I'm pretty sure that they don't believe me. They are learning how to teach someone about their culture and language and food. They are still trying to figure out if Tupac really is dead.
The other day, as a tourist bus passed me on the tarmac I couldn't help but think of how different their image of Namanga is from mind. They see it flash by their eyes as they are zoning out to their ipod or look up from their book. Why are their heads always facing their laps? Don't they realize that the world is outside of the bus? It makes me appreciate that I am experiencing Kenya the way that I am. I am living in namanga on my own. Entirely on my own. I have joined a community by myself in a culture other than my own. I am actually experiencing namanga. As the tour bus rode by, I looked around to see what they would have seen as their entire image, or impression, of namanga; a snapshot. There was an mzee (old man) communicating using mostly his hands and arms, much like a bird taking off for flight, and a little unsteady on his feet. There were many wazee taking chai at Al Yassin (my favorite hoteli). The Masai mamas were at their stations, ready to swarm any bus that stops to sell their beadwork. The Somali men were relaxing outside of Baba Halima's shop. And many many lorrys were lined up at the tarmac. They don't get to see the warm smiles on the market mamas faces, or how beautiful the hills are when the sun is rising. They don't have to watch dogs mistreated or children hit. They man see children in dirty rags, but they don't see the full effect that poverty can have on ana entire culture or community. They don't see my students, who sometimes are so hungry they cannot concentrate, offer me half of their orange. They don't see how much they are affected by a lack of resources, but how much their faces still light up when I say 'good morning' or try to speak kiswahili (or kimasai or kisomali). Namanga is growing on me...
Some side notes:
-I got to pet a 2 week old camel
-I went to a nearby shamba (farm) with a friend to see the destruction caused by elephants. Banana and mango trees were knocked down and they ate all of the maze. They left the kale and spinach. I put my hand in one of their footprints...they are HUGE
-Lately the children on the compound have been halping me fill in my water buckets. They are under two, so by helping I mean they follow me from the outside tap into my house, again and again. They are pretty cute.
-Termites are taking over my house!
-Anytime and American visits me, I spend the next week explaining that they are not my brother or sister
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Buibui
Instead of writing a new post, I have decided to take some snippets from my journal, which I think will give a better job of reflecting the past month!
6 May
Yesterday evening was a soul settling one. The sky was filled with huge and fluffy clouds. The bottom of the clouds were a mixture of bright oranges, pinks, and reds. My sun-setting seat is right at the base of a mini-hill that gives the people returning with water on wheelbarrows a run for their money. Yesterday, a boy actually let me help him puss his cart up the hill. I spent half of my time watching the sunset and half of it watching the girls and boys walking back pushing buckets or water, or carrying it on their heads. It hit me that I wasn't shocked by the age of these children. They are so young, and doing SUCH adult work.
I am not really sure when it happened, or why, but I have REALLY started to like whre I am. I actually get excited and a smile across my face when little kids run at me with their hands out. "Mzungu" has been bothering me less and less. I think that the Namangans are realizing that I am here to stay. And I'm realizing how to enjoy the simple pleasures that Namanga has to offer.
18 May
I'm tired. Hot. My legs are covered with mosquito bites. My head hurts, a lot. I'm not in a bad mood, just cranky. And I'm not cranky at Namanga, which is good, just cranky in general. Being cranky and alone is a weird feeling. If there is no one to see my mood, is it still there? I guess it is like the tree falling in the forest thing.
Today I had to explain to my students that people have gone to the moon, but they do not actually live there. At first I could not believe that they don't know that we've landed on the moon. But then, why would they? People on the moon really does not affect their lives. At all. When you are living your life day-to-day, meal-to-meal, who cares if there are people on the moon.
20 May - Buibui
Last night was my first real scary Africa incident. It had nothing to do with rebels, guns, or being harrassed. It was a buibui (spider). I guess I'm still not entirely sure if it was a buibui or a scorpion. It had the butt of a scorpion, but the legs of a spider. It was only slightly smaller than my hand. After checking with a Mama to see if there are poisonous spiders in Namanga, and saying 'ni kubwa sana' (its very big) I spend at least 15 minutes staring at it to build up my courage. I grabbed a peanut butter jar (a big one because I eat a lot of peanut butter) and an envelope. As a rule, I don't kill spiders, and besides, it was too big to kill. Mom would be proud. After I threw it outside it took 45 minutes for the shaking to stop. It wasn't until morning that I had convinced myself that it wouldn't crawl back under the door. Today, I checked every place where I put my hands before I went about my routine freely. Apparently I really am scared of spiders.
22 May
This morning I started thinking about how when the family comes, some things will stick out to them that now seem entirely normal to me:
-crates of sliced white bread stacked on the back of bicycles, and teetering on the uneven gravel roads
-meat being delivered in the morning on the backs of bicycles
-shoes made of old tires
-making sure there is water in the tank outside before I use my supply for bathing
-walking down the road hearing at least 4 languages: english, kiswahili, kimaasai, and kisomali
-seeing the jiko fires light up the night
-stepping over plastic bags and plastic bottles
-electricity is never a guarentee
-maasai mama's faces lighting up when they realize that you know to respond 'eba' when they say 'sopa'
-a matress is a foam pad. if your body is not evenly distributed you will fall through the cracks of the planks
-being called 'madam'...makes me feel old
24 May
Today was my second visit to AIC church with one of my students. The first time her pastor wasn't there, and she really wanted me to go when he was. They are incredibly welcoming. It is more than 3 hours long, but I get to spend a lot of that time listening to and watching the choir. I wish that they sang the entire service. Today they split up the 'introductions' and 'testimony'. I didn't really realize that it was introduction time, and I figured that I'm not new; I went two weeks ago. The pastor called me out: "I think that I saw a new face in there somewhere!". 200 heads turned to me. I wasn't entirely sure what to say because I hadn't been paying attention to the other introductions. I came up with: 'Mimi ninaitwa Carly. Thank you for welcoming me to your church". I have no clue if that was acceptable.
6 May
Yesterday evening was a soul settling one. The sky was filled with huge and fluffy clouds. The bottom of the clouds were a mixture of bright oranges, pinks, and reds. My sun-setting seat is right at the base of a mini-hill that gives the people returning with water on wheelbarrows a run for their money. Yesterday, a boy actually let me help him puss his cart up the hill. I spent half of my time watching the sunset and half of it watching the girls and boys walking back pushing buckets or water, or carrying it on their heads. It hit me that I wasn't shocked by the age of these children. They are so young, and doing SUCH adult work.
I am not really sure when it happened, or why, but I have REALLY started to like whre I am. I actually get excited and a smile across my face when little kids run at me with their hands out. "Mzungu" has been bothering me less and less. I think that the Namangans are realizing that I am here to stay. And I'm realizing how to enjoy the simple pleasures that Namanga has to offer.
18 May
I'm tired. Hot. My legs are covered with mosquito bites. My head hurts, a lot. I'm not in a bad mood, just cranky. And I'm not cranky at Namanga, which is good, just cranky in general. Being cranky and alone is a weird feeling. If there is no one to see my mood, is it still there? I guess it is like the tree falling in the forest thing.
Today I had to explain to my students that people have gone to the moon, but they do not actually live there. At first I could not believe that they don't know that we've landed on the moon. But then, why would they? People on the moon really does not affect their lives. At all. When you are living your life day-to-day, meal-to-meal, who cares if there are people on the moon.
20 May - Buibui
Last night was my first real scary Africa incident. It had nothing to do with rebels, guns, or being harrassed. It was a buibui (spider). I guess I'm still not entirely sure if it was a buibui or a scorpion. It had the butt of a scorpion, but the legs of a spider. It was only slightly smaller than my hand. After checking with a Mama to see if there are poisonous spiders in Namanga, and saying 'ni kubwa sana' (its very big) I spend at least 15 minutes staring at it to build up my courage. I grabbed a peanut butter jar (a big one because I eat a lot of peanut butter) and an envelope. As a rule, I don't kill spiders, and besides, it was too big to kill. Mom would be proud. After I threw it outside it took 45 minutes for the shaking to stop. It wasn't until morning that I had convinced myself that it wouldn't crawl back under the door. Today, I checked every place where I put my hands before I went about my routine freely. Apparently I really am scared of spiders.
22 May
This morning I started thinking about how when the family comes, some things will stick out to them that now seem entirely normal to me:
-crates of sliced white bread stacked on the back of bicycles, and teetering on the uneven gravel roads
-meat being delivered in the morning on the backs of bicycles
-shoes made of old tires
-making sure there is water in the tank outside before I use my supply for bathing
-walking down the road hearing at least 4 languages: english, kiswahili, kimaasai, and kisomali
-seeing the jiko fires light up the night
-stepping over plastic bags and plastic bottles
-electricity is never a guarentee
-maasai mama's faces lighting up when they realize that you know to respond 'eba' when they say 'sopa'
-a matress is a foam pad. if your body is not evenly distributed you will fall through the cracks of the planks
-being called 'madam'...makes me feel old
24 May
Today was my second visit to AIC church with one of my students. The first time her pastor wasn't there, and she really wanted me to go when he was. They are incredibly welcoming. It is more than 3 hours long, but I get to spend a lot of that time listening to and watching the choir. I wish that they sang the entire service. Today they split up the 'introductions' and 'testimony'. I didn't really realize that it was introduction time, and I figured that I'm not new; I went two weeks ago. The pastor called me out: "I think that I saw a new face in there somewhere!". 200 heads turned to me. I wasn't entirely sure what to say because I hadn't been paying attention to the other introductions. I came up with: 'Mimi ninaitwa Carly. Thank you for welcoming me to your church". I have no clue if that was acceptable.
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Baby elephants
Just a quick update to assure you that I am alive and well! I am in Nairobi for some more Peace Corps training (hence the access to internet). I am not entirely sure how to update the last month or so since the last posting. I can officially say that I have completed my first term as a secondary high school teacher in kenya! It is a really amazing feeling. The last few weeks of the term were incredibly taxing. If you have talked to my parents you probably know a little more about the situation. Basically I have been fighting for my rights, equality, and respect as a woman in the work place. It is challenging, but I am convinced that I will only come home a stronger woman; watch out! I have spent the past week reflecting on how I treated the entire situation, and I am energized (thanks to PC volunteer bonding time) to make the entire situation a more positive one. I will describe more in a following post when I get my act together to write something decent.
For now, here are some more Kenya tidbits. It my journal I call it 'meaningless conversation' (thanks jack):
-Today I had the opportunity to watch orphaned baby elephants get fed. It was amazing. I also got farted on by a baby elephant....again, amazing (it a smelly sort of way). And saw a baby rhino. It didn't even come up to my knees!
-Some days when I wake up, I forget that I am 'different' from the rest of the people in my town, until someone reminds me...usually no less than 5 minutes from leaving my house. Usually it is with the 'mzungu' or 'how are you' chants. This is my favorite one that occurred on the way to school :
Standard 5 student: Good morning madam
Me: Good morning
student: Are you sick?
Me: Hapana, kwa nini? (no, why?)
student: kwa sababu (because) your face LOOKS sick
Me: Kwa sababu, sitoki Namanga, sitoki Kenya (because I am not from Namanga, I am not from Kenya)
-I FINALLY have furniture, which means no more lassos on the floor
-Namanga, like most parts of Kenya these days is having an extreme water shortage. I have been ok so far, but have been changing my lifestyle to use even less water.
-My students want to know if Tupac really is dead. Any insight?
-I have finally ventured out to go running every sunday. It is probably the best decision that I have made. If I go early enough I can just see the tip of Kilimanjaro.
-Nyama Choma (roast meat) is my favorite version of Kenyan meat
-I had a week off from school before nairobi, which means LOTS of reading, cooking, and running time. I also finally got the little boy across the way to smile at me. We played peek-a-boo among the lines of laundry hanging to dry.
For now, here are some more Kenya tidbits. It my journal I call it 'meaningless conversation' (thanks jack):
-Today I had the opportunity to watch orphaned baby elephants get fed. It was amazing. I also got farted on by a baby elephant....again, amazing (it a smelly sort of way). And saw a baby rhino. It didn't even come up to my knees!
-Some days when I wake up, I forget that I am 'different' from the rest of the people in my town, until someone reminds me...usually no less than 5 minutes from leaving my house. Usually it is with the 'mzungu' or 'how are you' chants. This is my favorite one that occurred on the way to school :
Standard 5 student: Good morning madam
Me: Good morning
student: Are you sick?
Me: Hapana, kwa nini? (no, why?)
student: kwa sababu (because) your face LOOKS sick
Me: Kwa sababu, sitoki Namanga, sitoki Kenya (because I am not from Namanga, I am not from Kenya)
-I FINALLY have furniture, which means no more lassos on the floor
-Namanga, like most parts of Kenya these days is having an extreme water shortage. I have been ok so far, but have been changing my lifestyle to use even less water.
-My students want to know if Tupac really is dead. Any insight?
-I have finally ventured out to go running every sunday. It is probably the best decision that I have made. If I go early enough I can just see the tip of Kilimanjaro.
-Nyama Choma (roast meat) is my favorite version of Kenyan meat
-I had a week off from school before nairobi, which means LOTS of reading, cooking, and running time. I also finally got the little boy across the way to smile at me. We played peek-a-boo among the lines of laundry hanging to dry.
Monday, March 2, 2009
Catching Up
Some more Kenya tidbits since I wrote the last one (I write it ahead of time, then can post it whenever the internet is working, so yesterday's was really my life a month ago)
- I am now teaching physics, chemistry, biology, AND agriculture...
-There is a family of bats in the Form 1 classroom. They chatter the whole time I am teaching
-Lately, there has been a group of donkeys that wake me up in the early early morning hours hee-hawing
-I have been running a little with my students during cross-country. I miss running SO much
-I MIGHT be running a marathon in Mt. Kenya national park. I'm crossing my fingers that it will happen!
-I think the pig population is increasing; I keep seeing more and more of them
-I eat WAY too much peanut butter, but it is sooo good
-I have discovered the art of making fudge. How did I not learn this earlier...it is delicious!
-I have also discovered a place that makes yogurt. It is cheap and oh so good
-Is it sad that my primary motivation for shaving my legs is so that I cannot feel the flies land on them?
-The choo roaches are getting gutsy, they no longer go into hiding when you turn the light on
-There is a new puppy in my compound. It is super cute, but there were a few VERY long nights of puppy cries
-My new favorite kiswahili word is 'parachichi' (avocado)
-I am continuously amazed by how generous and welcoming many of the Kenyans are...
- I am now teaching physics, chemistry, biology, AND agriculture...
-There is a family of bats in the Form 1 classroom. They chatter the whole time I am teaching
-Lately, there has been a group of donkeys that wake me up in the early early morning hours hee-hawing
-I have been running a little with my students during cross-country. I miss running SO much
-I MIGHT be running a marathon in Mt. Kenya national park. I'm crossing my fingers that it will happen!
-I think the pig population is increasing; I keep seeing more and more of them
-I eat WAY too much peanut butter, but it is sooo good
-I have discovered the art of making fudge. How did I not learn this earlier...it is delicious!
-I have also discovered a place that makes yogurt. It is cheap and oh so good
-Is it sad that my primary motivation for shaving my legs is so that I cannot feel the flies land on them?
-The choo roaches are getting gutsy, they no longer go into hiding when you turn the light on
-There is a new puppy in my compound. It is super cute, but there were a few VERY long nights of puppy cries
-My new favorite kiswahili word is 'parachichi' (avocado)
-I am continuously amazed by how generous and welcoming many of the Kenyans are...
Sunday, March 1, 2009
As written 7 November 2009
I am starting to get used to the sounds of kenya, although I am not there yet. The sounds of the birds scratching on my tin roof still startles me every now and then. The chants from the mosque before the crack of dawn. At dusk I can hear the bells around the goats necks clank as they rummage through out trash pile (modern grazing). I can now fall asleep dispite the impressively loud cricket stuck in a crack in my wall, thanks to the wonderful invention of ear plugs. I am working on not being bothered by my neighbor's loud music, and I now sleep through the middle of the night cries of my neighbor's baby. I do still love it when the electricity goes out. I love hearing the screams and laughter of the watoto in my compound as they wait for their Mamas to finish making dinner. I can tell what type of fly is buzzing around my head just by the sound. In the mornings and evenings I eat to the rhythm of the Kenyan Mamas sweeping around their houses. Sometimes I get off my butt and add my own sweeping beat. Sunday is the day of church noises. Every church service here is hooked up to a blaring sound system that is broadcast throughout the town. If I stay at home on Sundays, I have about 4 different church services streaming through my house. I went to the Pentacostal service with my fellow teachers last week. When the speakers broke, I was able to actually here their real voices (the speakers aren't a great quality). Their voices are absolutly beautiful. If I could find a church without speakers I would go just to hear them sing.
I have just finished my dreaded week of teacher on duty (MOD). For those who are unfamiliar with the kenyan education system, the teacher on duty is basically the disciplinarian for the week. There are other roles as well, like handing out forms giving permission to go to the doctor's, but that I can handle. Apparently I can handle the disciplinarian role as well, because I am still alive. Although, I am a half of a bar of chocolate down, and one more round of giardia up. Giardia is JUST as much fun the second time around! Bascially, as MOD I keep track of which students are late, and assign them to cleaning jobs at the end of the day. I threw in some American methods by having them write answers to questions on why they ddi what they did, and what they will do to correct the behavior next time. However, I quickly realized that the system and resources are not in place for it to be effective. I also realized taht in order for Kenyan students to arrive to school on time (saa moja, 7:00am) they home culture will need to change. Some of them just sleep in, but many of them have to help their younger siblings get ready, or help with the morning chores. Because I am new, American, and clrealy less familiar with the kenyan education system, my students tested me SO hard. I don't think I cracked. On monday I was tested, by wednesday they listened, and by friday was laughed together. it could have gone MUCH worse. I survived, and still love my job.
I went hiking last saturday to this amazing cave-like boulder and stream that serves as my town's water source. I guess a lot of people hike up there to pray; I can see why. It was beautiful. We lazed on the rocks for a couple of hours, then hiked back down. On the way down, I was a small family of baboons, Oh kenya. The people that I have met so far have been so incredibly generous and welcoming. I ahve been invited to at least 6 different churches. I ahve been offered to be walked/driven home in the dark. I have been given gree sodas and had dinners paid for. On Monday, after my first and hardest day of duty I was taken out for chicken and chips. I am just waiting for my chance to return the favors. I have found my favorite hoteli (restaurant). I don't even konw the name, but it is a place where the elderly Masai men go; you could pass by it and have no idea that it is a place to eat. But the owner always greets me with a big smile, and there is always warm chapati. Most of the mamas at the sokoni (market) now know who i am, and greet me as I walk by. I buy so many bananas and mangoes, they must think taht I am feeding a whole family! One of the Mamas let me hang out behind her market stand the other day to get rid of my new friends, the town drunk.
I no longer have to convince myself when I wake up in the morning that I can do this for two years; now it is just a given!
One note: if you got the new address from my parents, the PO Box number changed from 7 to 111 (everything else is the same, including the 00207 number)
I am starting to get used to the sounds of kenya, although I am not there yet. The sounds of the birds scratching on my tin roof still startles me every now and then. The chants from the mosque before the crack of dawn. At dusk I can hear the bells around the goats necks clank as they rummage through out trash pile (modern grazing). I can now fall asleep dispite the impressively loud cricket stuck in a crack in my wall, thanks to the wonderful invention of ear plugs. I am working on not being bothered by my neighbor's loud music, and I now sleep through the middle of the night cries of my neighbor's baby. I do still love it when the electricity goes out. I love hearing the screams and laughter of the watoto in my compound as they wait for their Mamas to finish making dinner. I can tell what type of fly is buzzing around my head just by the sound. In the mornings and evenings I eat to the rhythm of the Kenyan Mamas sweeping around their houses. Sometimes I get off my butt and add my own sweeping beat. Sunday is the day of church noises. Every church service here is hooked up to a blaring sound system that is broadcast throughout the town. If I stay at home on Sundays, I have about 4 different church services streaming through my house. I went to the Pentacostal service with my fellow teachers last week. When the speakers broke, I was able to actually here their real voices (the speakers aren't a great quality). Their voices are absolutly beautiful. If I could find a church without speakers I would go just to hear them sing.
I have just finished my dreaded week of teacher on duty (MOD). For those who are unfamiliar with the kenyan education system, the teacher on duty is basically the disciplinarian for the week. There are other roles as well, like handing out forms giving permission to go to the doctor's, but that I can handle. Apparently I can handle the disciplinarian role as well, because I am still alive. Although, I am a half of a bar of chocolate down, and one more round of giardia up. Giardia is JUST as much fun the second time around! Bascially, as MOD I keep track of which students are late, and assign them to cleaning jobs at the end of the day. I threw in some American methods by having them write answers to questions on why they ddi what they did, and what they will do to correct the behavior next time. However, I quickly realized that the system and resources are not in place for it to be effective. I also realized taht in order for Kenyan students to arrive to school on time (saa moja, 7:00am) they home culture will need to change. Some of them just sleep in, but many of them have to help their younger siblings get ready, or help with the morning chores. Because I am new, American, and clrealy less familiar with the kenyan education system, my students tested me SO hard. I don't think I cracked. On monday I was tested, by wednesday they listened, and by friday was laughed together. it could have gone MUCH worse. I survived, and still love my job.
I went hiking last saturday to this amazing cave-like boulder and stream that serves as my town's water source. I guess a lot of people hike up there to pray; I can see why. It was beautiful. We lazed on the rocks for a couple of hours, then hiked back down. On the way down, I was a small family of baboons, Oh kenya. The people that I have met so far have been so incredibly generous and welcoming. I ahve been invited to at least 6 different churches. I ahve been offered to be walked/driven home in the dark. I have been given gree sodas and had dinners paid for. On Monday, after my first and hardest day of duty I was taken out for chicken and chips. I am just waiting for my chance to return the favors. I have found my favorite hoteli (restaurant). I don't even konw the name, but it is a place where the elderly Masai men go; you could pass by it and have no idea that it is a place to eat. But the owner always greets me with a big smile, and there is always warm chapati. Most of the mamas at the sokoni (market) now know who i am, and greet me as I walk by. I buy so many bananas and mangoes, they must think taht I am feeding a whole family! One of the Mamas let me hang out behind her market stand the other day to get rid of my new friends, the town drunk.
I no longer have to convince myself when I wake up in the morning that I can do this for two years; now it is just a given!
One note: if you got the new address from my parents, the PO Box number changed from 7 to 111 (everything else is the same, including the 00207 number)
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
I have a new home. It is hot, dry, and dusty, but it is home. I have been here for two weeks, and am starting to feel comfortable. I keep having to remind myself to relax, I have only been here for two weeks; it took me a month and a half to feel comfortable in our training town.
Every morning around 5 am I am woken up by chants from the mosque. I am sure that I will have days when I just want to be able to sleep at 5am, but for now, I find it utterly peaceful. It adds a whole new dimension to my morning yoga routine (be proud steph!) My school is just a 20 minute walk from home. I have finally solidified my teaching subjects, or I guess I should say, realized that I am teaching all three: biology, physics, and chemistry.
Training, even the model school, could no prepare me for the Kenyan Education system. It is different from the American system in SO many ways. My students are wonderful. My school is only 3 years old, so we only have Form 1, 2, and 3 (corresponds to freshman, sophomores, and juniors). Next year we will have a form 4 class. Our form 1's start on the second week of February (everyone else started in January), and their classroom is in the process of being build. Because the form 1's have yet to arrive, I spend the majority of my time talking with my kenyan colleagues about politics, cultural/language differences, and life in general. My first day of class was definitely interesting. I talked with the students about America vs. Kenya. They had amazing questions, like what is the education system in America like? What is your mother tonque (I had to explain that we do not have tribal languages, or really tribes for most of us for that matter)? Did you vote for Obama? Why? Each day gets better and better. I spend my nights brainstorming creative ways to transform my lectures in to lessons. When did I become to teachery???
I was fortunate enough to see president Obama's inaugural speech. It started at 8pm here. I don't have a TV, but my neighbors do. I invited myself over. I am not sure if that is culturally correct, but go big or go home, right?
I say that I have a new home, when really all that I have is a bed to call my own. I am working on getting the rest of my house set up....slowly. It is so hot here that I don't need to warm up my bucket bathing water. Sounds silly, but it is the little things!
If you have not heard, the majority of Kenya's educators are on strike. My school is still running, but the primary school whose grounds we are on is not. It is a little awkward, and I can certainly feel the tension. My belly is full of chai, mandazi (like fried dough) and PB and banana sandwhich. I bought PB in Nairobi, and it was definitely worth the pesa. I have also discorvered the genious creation of mango rice...SO GOOD (mango rice pudding...not so good).
Kenya tidbits: the other day, in the choo, I not only peed on my feet, but also in my shoe, and ALSO managed to splash myself in the forehead; my students are starting to teach me the kiswahili works that you don't learn in class; chocolate becomes the perfect stage of meltiness here; I am starting to enjoy my walk to town. People now recognize me, and I am swarmed by watoto (small children); I almost got attacked by a goat...rabies anyone?; I spent two hours getting a mouse out of my house because I did not want to kill it; I got stuck in the rain yesterday on the walk home with my students...it was amazing!
Every morning around 5 am I am woken up by chants from the mosque. I am sure that I will have days when I just want to be able to sleep at 5am, but for now, I find it utterly peaceful. It adds a whole new dimension to my morning yoga routine (be proud steph!) My school is just a 20 minute walk from home. I have finally solidified my teaching subjects, or I guess I should say, realized that I am teaching all three: biology, physics, and chemistry.
Training, even the model school, could no prepare me for the Kenyan Education system. It is different from the American system in SO many ways. My students are wonderful. My school is only 3 years old, so we only have Form 1, 2, and 3 (corresponds to freshman, sophomores, and juniors). Next year we will have a form 4 class. Our form 1's start on the second week of February (everyone else started in January), and their classroom is in the process of being build. Because the form 1's have yet to arrive, I spend the majority of my time talking with my kenyan colleagues about politics, cultural/language differences, and life in general. My first day of class was definitely interesting. I talked with the students about America vs. Kenya. They had amazing questions, like what is the education system in America like? What is your mother tonque (I had to explain that we do not have tribal languages, or really tribes for most of us for that matter)? Did you vote for Obama? Why? Each day gets better and better. I spend my nights brainstorming creative ways to transform my lectures in to lessons. When did I become to teachery???
I was fortunate enough to see president Obama's inaugural speech. It started at 8pm here. I don't have a TV, but my neighbors do. I invited myself over. I am not sure if that is culturally correct, but go big or go home, right?
I say that I have a new home, when really all that I have is a bed to call my own. I am working on getting the rest of my house set up....slowly. It is so hot here that I don't need to warm up my bucket bathing water. Sounds silly, but it is the little things!
If you have not heard, the majority of Kenya's educators are on strike. My school is still running, but the primary school whose grounds we are on is not. It is a little awkward, and I can certainly feel the tension. My belly is full of chai, mandazi (like fried dough) and PB and banana sandwhich. I bought PB in Nairobi, and it was definitely worth the pesa. I have also discorvered the genious creation of mango rice...SO GOOD (mango rice pudding...not so good).
Kenya tidbits: the other day, in the choo, I not only peed on my feet, but also in my shoe, and ALSO managed to splash myself in the forehead; my students are starting to teach me the kiswahili works that you don't learn in class; chocolate becomes the perfect stage of meltiness here; I am starting to enjoy my walk to town. People now recognize me, and I am swarmed by watoto (small children); I almost got attacked by a goat...rabies anyone?; I spent two hours getting a mouse out of my house because I did not want to kill it; I got stuck in the rain yesterday on the walk home with my students...it was amazing!
Thursday, January 8, 2009
SITE
Just a quick update: I leave tomorrow to go to my site in Masai country near Amboseli. I am really excited, but oh so nervous to be on my own! I left my homestay family feeling very ready to come back and visit them at the end of the three month term. I will start teaching on Monday, but won't have to do a ton of teaching for the first few weeks. I will hopefully get some pictures up of my new house. I apparently have electricity, an indoor and outdoor toilet, but no running water. It is hot. There are zebras. Giardia is not the time of my life! Kenya is awesome, and there is Gelato in Nairobi, which is amazing (butterscotch yesterday and strawberry cheesecake today...mmmm).
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