In limbo

Main reason for not having written anything in the last few weeks: not much exciting has happened.

After the misadventures of Christmas we did the only reasonable (read: adult) thing: stayed home and worked on our report. The thing is due at the end of January but the sooner we get it out of the way, the better. And I’m proud to say that we are putting the finishing touches on it these days. I don’t think I’ve ever finished a paper this early before deadline before.

Report writing

As said, we stayed home after Christmas – including New Year’s Eve where we stayed in and watched two movies instead of one. We managed to find the family’s movie drawer so we are working our way through the more appealing titles. The other night we saw Out of Africa and it is probably the 7^th or 8^th time I watch it but I love it more every time. Anyway, the first week of 2012 we spent at home, sitting in the shade on the porch, writing that report. Francis had informed us that we could go back to work in that week, but he ended up having to spend a couple of days in Isiolo. During the week we took a couple of walks into town, walked to Kongoni (remember, the one that our coordinator owns and where we had Christmas dinner?) for lunch and taste-tested milkshakes in the mzungu cafés across town. Highlights of the week also included seeing a new record for amount of people on a motorcycle – which is 5 in case you were wondering. Also, we walked to the equator which is just south of town, an about 45 min walk from home. For a small fee we were shown the Coriolis-effect (http://da.wikipedia.org/wiki/Corioliseffekten) in action. Some people apparently oppose the scientific truth of this effect, but no matter what, the water did swirl in opposing directions on the south and north side of the line. So I choose to believe.

At the equator

On the Friday night we went out to dinner with Maggie, our “mom”, some of her friends and Rachel, an American Peace Corps volunteer who rents a small annex on Maggie’s compound. We went to Kongoni, had a nice meal and a really nice and fun night. It was good to get out after having spent an entire week immersed in report writing.

After that extra week at home, we returned to work on Monday and spent most of the day doing errands with Francis in Nyeri. Nyeri is the ‘capital’ city of this district so most government offices are in this town. We’ve been a couple of times before, but I’m quite fond of the place especially because of the drive there which winds up and down fertile, green hillsides while Mt. Kenya looms in the horizon.

Nyeri

One of our tasks that day was to visit KEBS – Kenya Bureau of Standards. KEBS tests products and gives a stamp of approval that the product is safe and lives up to the proper standards. We went there because we have a big food distribution coming up. Francis wants to make sure that the food is fit for human consumption especially because the Red Cross has just made a huge mistake of distribution food that turned out to be contaminated with mold and the so-called aflatoxins, which can kill people.

Contaminated food at a school - although this is from the government(a whole different story in itself), not the Red Cross

They’ve had to reclaim food worth several millions in large part funded by the Kenyan people themselves. Not a very good situation at all, so even though the food distribution should have taken place almost two weeks ago, it is making sense to really wait for the results from KEBS to come back. So for now, we are playing the waiting game – again, or perhaps I should say still.

On the way home from Nyeri - this seemed to function as a school bus

On Tuesday, after the day was more or less finished, Francis felt sorry for us that we had not yet seen any, or very few at least, wild animals, so we headed down the road from the office where a large national reservation stretches across the landscape. In the reservation is one of, if not the, Kenya’s biggest rhino sanctuaries. We did not go in, but drove along the fence scouting for wildlife. According to Francis the animals usually come fairly close to the fence, but that day they seemed to stay elsewhere. We did however spot a white rhino fairly close – in the picture bellow you might be able to see it staring at us.

Rhino - right in the middle of the picture

A herd of black rhinos were grazing further away and mostly resembled black, moving dots. We also saw a couple of flocks of gazelles of various species, buffalos and some funny looking birds that we later identified as the African Crowned Crane. It was quite nice, for once, to get a feel for the wildlife that Kenya seems to be so famous for and we’re really looking forward to the next time we get the opportunity for a safari.

Rain clouds loom on the slopes of Mt. Kenya

As we headed to the office Thursday morning the matatu was about halfway to Naro Moru when suddenly traffic came to a halt. Cars were stopped in the middle of the road, some were turning around, some were going off-road to find alternative routes – all because in front of us a large gathering of people had blocked the road by setting fire to branches and other flammable things. Honestly, I was initially a little worried. In every cautionary guidebook it says to stay away from demonstrations and hostile situations and it was impossible to decipher the intention from a distance. Word travels fast when you’re stuck in the middle of morning traffic, so our fellow passengers soon told us that the people were demonstrating against the elephants. Yes, you read it right: the elephants. That sure is something you’ll never see in good old Denmark. The problem with the elephants is that they get into people’s crops and destroy them either by the sheer size of them or by eating it. The locals want the government to help them first of all by putting up a fence, but apparently the government has no intentions of that so on Thursday people were demonstrating when a group of five elephants showed up. We got out of the matatu and walked closer to the action and we could clearly see the elephants feasting on the trees some 50 meters from the road. Big, beautiful animals that took no notice of the noisy horde of people close by. As it seemed like we could be there all day, we called Francis who had heard the rumor and was practically already on his way towards us from the other side. In the meantime, our matatu driver told us that the police had been called and were on their way to dissolve the demonstration and chase off the elephants. It might be bad to be in a demonstration in the first place, but once the police shows up it’s better to just get out of the way. So we passed through and headed up the road to a safe distance from the fire blockade. Soon after the police came rushing past and five minutes later traffic started flowing again. We met up with Francis and ended up more or less hanging around the area for a couple of hours. First, we watched as the rest of the traffic disappeared and the Kenya Wildlife Service headed into the bush to chase the elephants away. Then we visited a school in the vicinity. As most other community schools it was primitively set up with little space and a big lack of desks for the students. In most class rooms they seated four kids to a table.

As we headed back towards the office, events were again developing in the elephant-sighting area. We pulled over at a safe distance and Francis explained that the KWS was trying to push the elephants towards the forest while the locals wanted them to kill the animals. The elephants have a good memory and if they kill one of them, the elephants will most likely stay away from the area for a couple of years because they remember that one of them was killed there. Also, the locals want the meat. So we waited around to see them chase the animals across the road. We heard the opposing gunshots from the KWS and the yelling from the locals but they managed to stay in a stalemate for some time and Francis got impatient so we headed back to the office without getting another look at the group. We don’t know the outcome of the situation, but I’ll let you know if we learn it at some point.

People gathering on the road waiting for the elephants

Back at the office we spent the rest of the day doing nothing. Someone had come to take two of the desks to another office but it turned out to be a daunting task to get the desks out. We stayed out of it (too many cooks) but it took the guys a couple of hours to get them out as the desks were too wide for too narrow doors.

Charlotte found a grass hopper outside the office

Some of you might be wondering whatever happened to the whole going to Isiolo thing and all I can say is that we’ve really given up on the prospect of going there. Tribal violence broke out again over Christmas and there’s no telling when it will be safe to go. Charlotte is leaving in a month and we can’t waste much more time waiting. We’re planning to wait out the situation next week in terms of the food distribution and then Francis is trying to help us set up a visit to the western part of the country where they have been badly affected by floods. If all goes according to plan for a change, we’ll spend a couple of weeks there before Charlotte leaves and then – I don’t know. I’ve decided to stay for another couple of months because the school curriculum allows it, because I don’t have anything at home that pulls me back and because I’m not quite done with Kenya yet. I feel like there are still things to learn, things to see and people to meet. And then of course there’s the wedding I have to go to in South Africa in April. And it is clear logic that it would be silly to fly home in February just to have to go back in April – right?

Oh, and also we experienced a new record as to how many people can fit in a 14-seat matatu – the answer is 22.

Mission Impossible: the Christmas Mission

The best laid plans somehow always fails.

We had big plans for Christmas. We had time off and the opportunity to see some Africa. But alas, Africa didn’t seem to want to see us.

First, we wanted to go to Rwanda. It’s supposed to be really beautiful and after having read a lot about the genocide, I really wanted to see how the country has managed to pull itself out of that horrible a history and become one of the most prosperous countries in Africa. My Lonely Planet East Africa guidebook told us of great places to visit and internet searches painted pretty pictures. Unfortunately, we hadn’t taken into account that the Lonely Planet book was written in 2009 when it was still possible to get into Rwanda without a visa. Because that is apparently no longer the case. As it turns out, as a Danish citizen you need to apply for a visa through the embassy or mission and it is likely to take around three days to issue. Well, that would mean that we would have to go to Nairobi one way or the other to obtain the visa and that was just not a possibility. Only a couple of days before Christmas we learned that it was actually possible to apply online and get it much faster – but by then we had given up all Rwanda plans.

OK then, we were not inclined to sit at home all Christmas now we had the opportunity to get out, so we started looking for lodges in region to spend a few days in luxury. However, luxury comes at a price(go figure) and apparently that prize is significantly higher during Christmas. We were not prepared to spend upwards of $600 a night, so that was another plan for the garbage can. Instead we decided that after a month of observations of the Kenya road rules, we were ready to venture out onto the roads ourselves(much to the dismay of certain family members). On the 21^st, we headed for the one place in Nanyuki that has car hire. Once again, we were late. “Sorry, we have nothing.” We then tried to figure out when a car would become available and in the meantime the somewhat clueless girl behind the desk had gotten hold of the company’s owner. He gave us the same message, but had barely finished the sentence before he promised us he would find us a car by the 24^th. “For you I will find a car.” AVIS take note, because this place has almost impeccable service!

We left the office as happy campers and trusted his ability to get us a car.

Charlotte got a new hat, ready for adventure

He did not let us down. We arrived Saturday morning to find that he had apparently given us something that seemed to be his own car. A nice big Toyota with automatic gear(I had wished for this but not dared say aloud). Somehow, the wheel and the driving being on the wrong side, did not actually feel that wrong. When everyone else is doing it, it only seems natural. Excited by the prospect of a road trip in a really nice car, we headed out of Nanyuki for the spectacle of Thompson’s Falls, a waterfall near Nyahururu, some between 95 and 160 km away(depending on the route). We opted for the short cut across a 20 km gravel road, which made for a nice view but not very comfortable ride. About half way in, the car started behaving a little weird. It was like it was accelerating a little by itself in the gear changes. How odd, we thought, it will probably get better once we’re back on the tarmac. (Have no pictures from most of this day, so today I'll introduce you to random shots of countryside - mainly taken from a car going back and forth between Chaka and Naro Moru or Naro Moru and Nanyuki - enjoy!) 

But it did not get any better. Quite the contrary.

It seemed that when we hit around 60, the gears did not catch on(side note: I know nothing about cars other than how to drive them, so all my theories might be completely wrong) and I could step on the gas all I wanted, but it would not accelerate. Once it had slowed itself to around 40, it would catch again and we could move on. We determined that this was not a good thing and called the car hire guy. We had called him at one point where he told us to just keep going and when I kept the gas pedal down during one of the non-accelerating points, it did somehow catch again and we didn’t experience anything after that. But then he called and one thing led to another and we ended up agreeing that we should turn around and meet him in Mweiga so he could take a look at it and thereby assure us that everything was fine.

So we turned around and headed back towards Mweiga experiencing no mechanical problems along the way – of course. 10 minutes before the town, we were driving behind a car that suddenly started behaving a little weird. He was slowing down and swerving a little like he wanted to either pull over or turn right, but not indicating either of those options. I slowed down as well anticipating his move, when I looked in the side mirror and saw a matatu going for an overtaking of us. I think we both managed to exclaim something as the inevitable was going to happen. The car in front of us suddenly turned right, just as the matatu came speeding past us and slammed right into the front of the turning car. The car spun around and the matatu continued a few meters further down the road until it came to a stop in a cloud of dust. We quickly pulled over and got out to check on the passengers at the same time as people came running from out of nowhere to do the same. Charlotte said she was expecting to find people dead, but I really didn’t even think about what we could find in the cars. 

Not THE matatu, just A matatu for those of you still wondering what the heck it looks like

By some (Christmas) miracle, no one was hurt. The matatu driver had managed to have enough sense to try to avoid the accident and had pulled towards the right side of the road, hitting the front panel of the car – enough to spin the car, but far enough from doing damage to the passengers. In the front seat of the car was a man with a screaming baby. We learned from First Aid class, that a screaming baby with no visible injuries can be a good sign, because it has the energy to scream. I was most worried by the couple of young kids emerging from the back seat. One girl in a pretty purple dress was conscious but looked somewhat lethargic. The people around indicated that she had banged her head and I suspect she might have gotten a minor concussion, but we had no way of telling. One man at the matatu praised God and assured us that everyone was fine, but few others seemed to speak English when we tried to get them to tell us if everyone was ok. There were so many people and we realized that there was nothing we could do, so after having seen that no one was bleeding or had broken limps, we got back in the car and went to Mweiga.

We were naturally both a bit shaken, but having seen that everyone seemed ok, we took comfort in the fact that God, or another power-that-be of your choice, had protected those people from getting hurt.

In Mweiga we met up with our friendly car owner and after a quick and fruitless check under the hood, we then drove to Nyeri another 15 min or so away. We parked the car and spent an hour maybe more waiting. First at the nearby sort-of-restaurant and then by the workshop. Eventually they seemed to have determined the cause – a something-gear-something that they replaced. We dropped off the car owner in Mweiga and pretty much headed home. By then it was around 5pm and we wanted to be home before it got dark.

For those of you wondering about the geography of all this, here's a map. I've highlighted Nanyuki:

We had no trouble going home and looked forward to the adventures of the next few days. Christmas dinner was at Teresia’s restaurant, Kongoni. It was wonderfully non-Christmassy and just a really, really good meal. Best steak I’ve had in several months! For three courses for two people incl. beverages(beer and Coke) we paid no more than 3500 KsH, which is around 300 kr., I think. And really, the food was really good. Probably a good thing we don’t live closer than we do.

Ice cream for dessert on X-mas? I love it!

The next day we packed our bags and headed for Lake Naivasha with the intention to stay in that area for a few days. However, we had not gotten more than five minutes outside of Naro Moru before the car did the same thing again when we hit a higher speed. We decided that it was just too unreliable and turned around. I think that we probably would have been ok to keep going, but at the same time, who knew if the next time it happened, we would be passing someone going uphill. We did not want to risk anything, so much to the comfort of those certain family members, we called the car guy and told him we’d be returning the car and not needing another for the time being.

So that was the conclusion of the failed Christmas mission. We didn’t manage to make it outside the zone we’d already seen but instead ended up in the homely setting of Nanyuki, working on our school report. We did venture a few kilometers up the road the other day though, to see the Commonwealth War Cemetery that is now the eternal resting ground of soldiers that fought in the Second World War in Kenya. For more history on that, you’re going to have to google it, because I’m not too caught up myself(sorry).

Nanyuki War Cemetery

The most interesting thing about the place was the location next to a local, in-use cemetery which was in a terribly neglected state compared to the well-kept one next door. I felt uncomfortable taking pictures of the local one, so just imagine your average piece of land dazzled with random trees, bushes, tall grass and the likes. In-between all of that were graves – in no particular order or structure, just wherever there seemed to have been an empty spot. Some of them had headstones actually made of stone, while most of them were just wooden crosses with names and dates. I felt like it was a little sad, but maybe it wasn’t. I’ll have to ask someone about that at some point. That’s all for 2011 dear friends and beloved family. Thank you all for reading this and I look forward to seeing you all again in 2012.

I leave you with a couple of highly manipulated pictures - one of a leaf with the setting sun behind it, and the other a collage of some of the gates we pass by on the way to town.

Merry Christmas and the best of wishes to all for a wonderful New Year.

The good fight

As a generally un-social(not asocial, just un-social) person, spending a whole day with strangers can be quite tiring.

As Francis had to go to Isiolo Tuesday to close accounts before the end of the year, we were left to our own wits. In the process of writing our report for school, we need to talk to some of the locals and conduct a few interviews and we seized the opportunity to get some of that done while Francis was out of town. When we were at the trenching a couple of weeks back, we met Mr. Kibe, a knowledgeable and talkative man, and as we opted to be with someone we knew when we were on our own, we arranged to spend Tuesday with him.

Kibe

So Tuesday morning we headed to Chaka, a small although busy town about 20 min. on the other side of Naro Moru towards Nairobi. When we got there and couldn’t see Kibe anywhere, we called him and after some of the usual language confusion(especially when on the phone), he told us to find a guy on a motorbike that had been told where to take us. Being the only wazungus around, the guy on the bike had an easy time finding us and we got on. Now, Charlotte has a license for a motorbike whereas I never in my 27 year old life have been anywhere near getting on one. But here it’s a very common thing, especially in the more rural areas, that motorbikes are used as taxis. They usually travel fairly small distances, like from town to home here in Nanyuki and they cost a third of the price of a car taxi. In addition, they fit anywhere from one(obviously) to four people. So anyway, we got on the bike and I held on for dear life. I told Charlotte to write in her blog that I was amazingly cool and brave, although that might be a bit of an embellishment. I didn’t panic though and to the driver’s credit he did drive fairly slowly. If it hadn’t been for the fact that I kept worrying if we were going to fall over in every turn of the road, I’m sure I would have enjoyed it. It was kind of nice to feel the wind in my hair and the sun on my face.

The ride was problem-free and we made it to Kibe’s house completely safe and sound. Kibe himself was all smiles and welcoming gestures. It’s really quite amazing to feel so welcome in the home of someone you’ve only met once before.

Kibe's house. Bulding to the left is the kitchen.

He took us to the house, we met his wife and a couple of his kids, had some tea and were then placed in the kitchen with his wife as she roasted maize on the open fire. Maize is generally a very hard, dry and not particularly tasty experience, but it definitely benefited from the heat of the fire. The more intentionally crunchiness was a welcome change. Once we finished the second helping of maize, we were served mokimo, another local dish. Its basic components are mashed potatoes, beans, maize, onions, something green(maybe spinach), spices and probably other things as well. Now, mokimo is really quite nice – the only problem is that you get full very fast and you are always served huge portions. When you, as I, have never been the biggest fan of mashed potatoes, the second half of the portion tends to be a bit hard to get down. Well, down it went and we were then served sugar canes outside as the chairman of the water project came by and greeted us. With a little practice, I’m sure that we would make excellent sugar cane eaters, but at this point we are still rookies and not very graceful in our attempts. You bite of chunks of the cane, chew it to get the juice and then spit out the remainder of the cane. The juice itself tastes like, oddly enough, liquid sugar and it is a delicious treat. We did have to decline seconds though however adamantly Kibe insisted we had more. After the sugary treat, Kibe gave us a tour around his humble piece of land. He has quite a variety of things. First of all, they have the mandatory maize, potatoes and other household necessities. Then he has a field with a lot of different plants like figs, bananas, lemons, oranges and a courageous attempt at a couple of apple trees. In addition, he has a fairly large greenhouse not made of glass but more what seemed like white tarps. Inside were grape vines and cherry tomatoes a plenty. To make a bit more money than from selling what little extra produce they might have, Kibe has a small plant nursery.

It doesn’t make him rich but it helps earning money to put the kids through school. And when I say small, I mean small, nothing compared to what I’m used to from my days as a hard working youth at the local plant nursery. This place probably couldn’t even fit a tractor.

The plant nursery

After way too much food and the tour of the premises, we got down to business and went to the house to conduct our interview. We had only just sat down and explained our intention, when his wife announced that lunch was ready. Charlotte managed to politely convince her that we’d do the interview first and then eat later, hoping that the 30 minute delay would help speed up digestion and leave room for more. When the interview was over, we gratefully accepted another meal, this time consisting of boiled potatoes and bananas in a kind of soup with vegetables. Delicious as it was, I started feeling sick towards the end of it and had to get my water to help me get it down. I had simply had way too much food at that point, but not wanting to be rude, I forced it down and it managed to stay there.

Kibe tried his best to convince us to stay the night as he had somehow gotten the understanding that this was the agreed upon arrangement. But as we were unprepared for that big a commitment, we politely and apologetically declined. We did however agree to go and see the water tank the community stores its water in, so we ventured the one km down the road and into the forest. Along the way we attracted the local kids and once we reached the tank, we had a tail of maybe ten kids after us.

Kibe with some of the kids that followed us

It took some convincing, but I managed to follow Charlotte up the questionable ladder to the top of the tank from where there was a nice view.

Kibe and Charlotte on top of the tank

Although Kibe tried to the very end to make us stay, we got on our way and headed back to Nanyuki.

Another day another group of new people. Wednesday Francis had arranged for us to interview a group of village elders at a small village. We spent almost an hour in conversation(via Francis’ translations) about subjects like early warning systems, how they used to preserve food 50 years ago and poverty. It was a fascinating study really as the oldest woman was around 87 and has seen a lot in her life time. I really wanted to ask more about life doing the time of the British rule and their views on white people today(the British was not particularly nice to the Kenyans), but we could have been there for hours then and it would have been off topic. We finished the stay by visiting their little local “museum” to see how they used to grind maize into flour and how they used to sleep.
On the way back to Naro Moru we passed  by the land owned by Francis’ family, so we stopped by his mother’s house, had mokimo and planted a tree outside the house he is building for himself.
It was an interesting day, but man, one gets really exhausted after a day like that.

With Thursday came the first part of the food distribution. Three orphanages in the area were to receive some food to get them through Christmas. The two of them I introduced you to in the last entry, but we started with a new one, Kids Alive. The compound was really quite gorgeous and had been built by a white man some decades back. The buildings were fairly well maintained and the dorms somewhat spacious.

The dorms at Kids Alive

In addition to running the orphanage of about 80 kids, the organization also runs a school just outside the gates and a small clinic. The school and the clinic also benefit the surrounding community.

The headmaster shows us the school

The orphanage tries to sustain itself to the best of their efforts by running a couple of small farms that supplies them with household necessities as well as produce to sell. They have been affected by the drought like most everyone else and while they wait for their crops to grow, they received the food from Action Aid and their donor, the county of Madrid.


Setting up for a picture at Kids Alive

After an extended tour of the grounds, we were running far behind schedule(we had also been forced to wait for some of the food, as the supplier was running late), so our stay with Lipela was cut short. We did need to take pictures of the kids with the food and the sign for the donor, so after we had done that and Francis went to get the formalities done, we handed out candy for the kids and tried to keep them away from the camera this time around.

We finished the long but good day with the priest. I cannot stop saying how amazing I find this guy. He cares so deeply for his kids and he is so humble and appreciative that I was ready to spent all the money I pretend I have buying him food, school supplies, a windmill for the borehole or whatever else he could possibly want. After the mandatory picture, the kids sang us a song and we said a prayer.

The priest(in the green jacket) and the kids left at the home during Christmas

Even though we really didn’t have any part in the whole food aid, I couldn’t help but feel good after a day in the presence of inspiring people who fight the good fight to provide a better life for the kids who have no one else.

I feel like I must end on a bit more educational note when it comes to the issue of food aid.
What I’ve really come to understand and learn in the past month or so is the fact that food aid should really be avoided as much as possible. Food aid is not sustainable and it encourages dependency.
It is becoming an increasingly contaminated issue because the easiest way for NGOs to raise money from donors is for the immediate aid with pictures of starving children and dead or emaciated live stock. But food aid is not necessarily very helpful, and in the long run it seems much more costly than providing sustainable solutions. People need water, land and live stock – then for the most part, they are self proficient. That drought occurs is an undeniable fact, but there are several things that can be done to limit the consequences; re-forestation, irrigation, early warnings, information just to mention a few.
 Of course there can be times when food aid is necessary, like at this time after an unusually long drought, but dependency on food aid is a curse.

Food waiting to be loaded onto the truck

I have learned that it’s important to consider who you support when you donate money to organizations working in developing countries. I recognize the fact that sometimes emergency funds are necessary for disaster situations that couldn’t have been predicted, such as earth quakes or tsunamis, but drought in the Horn of Africa is not a disaster that came out of the blue. What is important now is to get people back on their feet. It is so far from sustainable to just provide food and not development. There are ways to provide food as well as development like we saw in Isiolo, where the community only received food after they had worked to create irrigation for their land. As mentioned on several previous occasions, I am becoming a big fan of the work Action Aid does because they seem to really get the point.

It’s not an easy task to go from aid to development because politics and money permeates the system. But I think we owe it to the developing countries to be conscious about how, when and where we choose to help.  Because they do still need help, it's just a question of finding the right way to do it. There are many, many aspects to this issue and for those of you who are interested in learning more about the challenges that aid faces, I recommend two books: War Games/The Crisis Caravan and Dead Aid.

Heartbreakers

December 18, 2011

This week has struggled to live up to the excitement of last week, but it had a few highlights of its own.

The first part of the week was pretty eventless. Monday was Independence Day, a national holiday, and Tuesday Francis went to Nairobi, so we stayed home and got a little bit of work done on our report.

In-between studying there was time to play with the cat - here seen just before crawling through the window

Wednesday it was back to work. We helped Francis count the beneficiaries of the food distribution we’ll be doing sometime in the next two weeks. And quite frankly, I can’t remember what else we did.

Counting

Thursday brought another matatu challenge – although this time in the morning. We had actually managed to get out of the house before 8 in an attempt to make it to the office for 9 and not 9.30 like the last couple of times. As usual, we were approached by several salesmen at the station, but as none of the vehicles were close to leaving, we decided to just go with the cheaper one(cheap = 70  KsH or the equivalent of less than 5 kr. The expensive one is 90 KsH). We boarded and both took up reading while we waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And – you get the point. An hour and a half later we gave up. Francis were to pick up a representative from a Spanish partner organization at 11 and as the clock approached 10 and only one other passenger had come along since us, we surrendered to circumstance and called Francis. He sent a driver to pick us up and we were probably only 20 minutes late to the meeting point with the Spaniard, Alex.

The city council(I think) of Madrid has donated around 15 million KsH to ours and another branch of Action Aid Kenya and Alex was there to see projects and talk about the budget, so most of the day was spent visiting projects. We only tagged along for two stops before we went back to the office and the rest of the group jetted from project to project. When they returned, we spent about an hour listening to them talk about the budget and no, it was not boring. It was actually interesting to hear how they talked and how the donor might want one thing for the money donated, while Action Aid, or Francis at least, might want to spend the money a little differently.

Friday, we spent the day in the field. Francis took us to two different orphanages to see that part of the community – places where the inhabitants can’t care for themselves. As you know by now, kids are irresistible to me and the group of energy balls we met at the first one was no exception. At the Lipela Childrens Home they house around 55 kids between the ages of 2 and 18.

Some of the kids. Francis on the far right.

The kids are either orphans or destitute, meaning that they have been given up by their parents as opposed to the parents dying. They receive most of their funding from private donors primarily from Denmark(total coincidence by the way). But times are tough and they will be receiving some supplementary feeding and food aid next week, which is why we went to see the place. We got a tour of the compound, which actually looks pretty good. The younger children sleep in bunk beds in dorms while the older ones share rooms two or three per room. They have a lot of outdoor space and try to be as self-sufficient has possible with a couple of cows, some chickens, goats and rabbits. In addition, the kids each have a piece of a garden where they grow the usual variety of vegetables. The orphanage will then buy the vegetables from the kids which allow the kids to have a bit of saving.
After the kids had sung us a song accompanied by dance, we hung out with them for maybe half an hour, just trying to converse with maybe 10 words of English they knew.

Doing song and dance

I’m constantly amazed at how little they need to be entertained though. First of all, they really want to just touch you – the white skin is so strange to them. Secondly, you can do a lot with your hands. Doing patty cake(you know, where you clap your own hands together then the other person’s hands and so forth, usually to some sort of rhyme/song), tickling, fist bumping and whatever else you can think of. Also, the camera can entertain them for hours on end. For a good while they just wanted me to take pictures of them and then I let them take pictures of each other. The result: 200 pictures of kids and random blurry elements around the room.

From left to right: boy who's name I didn't get, Esther, Lucy and Esther

Taken by one of the kids

After Lipela, we drove to a school that serves as both an orphanage and a day school. The place is run by a priest that Francis has known for 20 years. He, the priest who’s name I can’t remember, was orphaned himself at a young age and in his adult life wanted to do something for kids going through the same he went through. So he started this school where they take in street kids from all over Kenya.

The compound with the chapel in the middle

He has 180 kids all-in-all, with a 165 of them being residents. Out of those 75 will attend high school in the new year, which is a large financial burden for him as there are no one else to care for them. In addition, food prices has gone up lately and it makes it hard for him to make ends meet. They have a farm and some animals which get them some of the way, but they need water for irrigation from a borehole they can’t afford to have a pump for. Listening to him tell his story was a little heart breaking. He really just wants to help these kids, but sometimes feeding them only happens “with the grace of God”. Imagine trying to care for 165 kids, feeding them, clothing them, sending them to school – it cannot possibly be an easy task.

Is God up there?

When we got back to the office, we had a good talk with Francis about the challenges to humanitarian aid. It’s a long, long discussion that I won’t bore you with here, but I will recommend the book War Games or Crisis Caravan(it’s the same book) by the Dutch author Linda Polman. It’s essential reading for anyone wanting to work in the aid industry. Francis is great because he doesn’t hesitate to be critical if he thinks something is wrong.

Saturday we spent most of the day studying before going to town around 3pm to meet Teresia. We wanted to talk to her face to face in an attempt to figure out how to spend the last half of our internship. She is incredibly understanding and we feel very comfortable in her capable hands. We talked about different options for January, but it’s a long story, so I’ll let you know how things develop when I actually have something to tell. Anyway, we talked to Teresia and then went with her to the lodge that her and her husband own on the outskirts of town, the Kongoni Camp. Her husband runs it, almost by himself, and it’s a truly gorgeous place. If you ever come to Nanyuki and need a place to stay, stay there! Or just go to eat, the prices are totally acceptable and the variety excellent. We have yet to eat there, but we will at some point for sure.

Sunday: studying.

That is it for this week in review.

Tales from Nanyuki

December 10, 2011

Today I received a marriage proposal.

Walking through our current home town, Nanyuki, is never boring – especially when you are a mzungu. (I have no pictures from the city, so you will be treated to another round of flowers)

We stopped for a parade of honking and decorated cars that turned out to be heading for a weeding – as explained to us by a random passing guy. He was kind enough to offer to marry me and hadn’t it been for the fact that he was several years my senior, was missing several teeth and was in a state of general scruffiness, I might have considered the offer.

It did not take us long to find a favorite café – the Boulangerie just off the main street. We may not have visited any of the others yet, but who needs variation when the milkshakes at the B are awesome and made with real ice-cream or when the salad for the burgers and sandwiches doesn’t give you diarrhea(the food is excellent too by the way)? Also, the B is a good place to meet other ex-pats. Our first time there we spent an hour with two Americans from the Peace Corps who gave us several tips on places to go.

The Nakumatt staff would beat all Danish supermarket employees in the discipline of customer service any day of the week.
Walk down Laikipia Road past the house with the Fanta paint and follow the sign to the Mandera Shopping Complex. It’s ok to go through the slightly creepy looking corridor because in the courtyard is a small “mall” with a variety of clothing stores run mostly by Somalis it seems. They will be eager to lure you in and might not be that good at English(money seemed to be a word they knew quite well though), but it’s a curious place to take a stroll.

There’s always a line to the Western Union office – no matter what day of the week we come by.

Across the main road from Laikipia Road is a big market. At first look it may seem that there are only stores lined next to the road, but there’s actually a big area behind them with everything your heart desires in clothes and shoes. Also, if you dare to challenge the locals, at least four pool tables have been set up under the tarps.

Last weekend we passed by the Shell station when an overhanging power wire suddenly started shooting sparks. Needless to say, we walked away pretty quickly. We heard no explosions and the station was still there today, so nothing happened.

Our home for the time being

Margaret’s husband Tom was home this weekend before heading off to Nigeria for a year. He works with the up-start of farms and agriculture in general.

I’m sure there will be many more tales to tell in the near future. Have a great weekend!

Community Unity

December 9, 2011

Remember that episode of Friends where Phoebe and Charlie Sheen have oven mittens taped to their hands to avoid them scratching themselves and each other? I’m considering that trick to be the next option in an attempt not to scratch myself bloody from a combination of mosquito and flea(courtesy of the house cat) bites.

After the matatu-events of Thursday night, I was a bit apprehensive about taking one to work Friday morning. But as there were no alternative, we headed to the main stomping grounds of the Nanyuki matatus. We had barely walked onto the square before we were approached by maybe five men all asking us where we were going. We chose to go with the car that looked like it would leave sooner but as usual “in just a minute” quickly became 10. It was another run-down vehicle, but this time we got there without any problems. We have been told to get the matatu that looks the best but it is pretty hard to move around and survey when you are so obviously looking for a ride – it will be impossible to get through without being hassled so we will probably just have to suck it up and hope for the best!



We made it to the office and after about an hour we went back to Solomon’s place with Francis. We had learned that the community would be digging the last of the trenches for their Action Aid supported irrigation system and wanted to lend a hand to that project. We may have had a bit of hidden agenda to prove that we might be white girls, but physical labor is not completely strange to us. We met up with Solomon and the rest of the community at the trenches and soon learned that we might not currently be quite fit to really make a difference.

Charlotte makes an effort

The soil was so muddy and heavy that we both struggled to make progress. The locals probably got a good laugh out of our desperate efforts. Charlotte did a better job than me as I soon realized that it was a lost cause getting us to dig that part of the trench – at least if they wanted to finish today. Instead I let Charlotte do a bit more digging, made a laughing stock of myself when trying to ride a bike without falling(I did not fall, but am sure that it was not pretty nonetheless) and took pictures of other people working. Solomon was running the show, so he was off tending to that. Instead we got company from Kibe, who found us just as fascinating as we him. As we walked the length of the trenches we talked about differences between Denmark and Kenya, about volcanic eruptions and the creation of the surrounding mountains and about the project and the community.

Everyone participates

He was very interested in knowing where Kenya was, development-wise, compared to Denmark and although we answered that, we also made a point of stressing that it was important that Kenya develops in a way that fits their country not the same way that Denmark or other developed nations did.

Kibe used his hand to explain the irrigation system

As for the trenching project in itself, it works like this: the community is supported by a combination of their own investment, local and international funds and the government to purchase piping. Every investor/household has a responsibility to dig a certain length of the 16 km trench that will bring the pipes from the intake through the community. When you have done your part you are entitled to make a connection to the main pipe from your house. The water will be used for both household needs and irrigation. What I really liked about the experience today was that strong sense of community. People come together and get this to work because otherwise the whole community will suffer. Men, women and children all share the effort to finish the project. I remember moments of community unity from my childhood, but realize how different things are now at home. We always expect someone else to fix things for us. I have a problem, I call someone to take care of it or wait for someone else to do something. Of course there are things that we cannot do ourselves because we live in a world that is technically complicated and where the craftsmanship has disappeared from our range of abilities. Here, problems are not more complicated than you can manage to fix it yourself, whether it be building a house or digging a trench. People may not have a lot, but they are happy and the only thing they really complain about is the corrupt political system. Maybe simple really is better sometimes and maybe we should stop complaining so much and help each other solve the problems we have in common instead.

After the failed attempt at trenching and a good talk with Kibe, we went back to Solomon and had lunch. Charlotte and I shared the kitchen with his lovely wife, who we talked to about a lot of different things among others the increasing alcohol problems the youth of Kenya faces in parts because of a high unemployment rate.

After lunch we headed back to the office and eventually got a ride home from Francis.
We welcome the long weekend(Monday is some sort of holiday) after a week of intensity.