Stopover in Ugenya

I am back in SVH-Ugenya (aka Obama Land) for a few days and it has been really nice. I am working on status reports for a few projects here and thanks to the meticulous records kept by Calvin the SOTENI coordinator, the work is pleasantly efficient...such organization has made me especially cheerful these last few days, as I had forgotten how much I enjoyed being amongst kindred Type-A personalities...it's been so long!

Today we spent the afternoon in the town center of Ugunja with SOTENI-sponsored Celestine (age 16) and her older brother Alfa (age 20). It was a market day so we also spent a lot of time wandering around so I could marvel at the piles of dried tilapia, mounds of millet and sesame, and pork haunches set out by vendors on dozens of wooden stalls. I got to chat with both Celestine and her brother quite a bit and I found myself having a familiarly confusing frustration with how the gender/racial dynamics played out in our group over the course of the afternoon.

I had anticipated the misogyny of Kenyan men when I came here in February and have had plenty of experiences to confirm this preconceived notion, although the situation is actually far more complicated than I could have imagined. A more unexpected frustration has been with Kenyan women; I often find myself annoyed with them for not asserting themselves more and allowing men to behave condescendingly. Today for example, I would often ask Celestine a question only to have Alfa or Calvin answer on her behalf. I would persist with follow-up questions, looking Celestine square in the eye so as to eliminate any confusion about who I was speaking to, and again Alfa or Calvin would interject on her behalf. My initial annoyance with the men would be quickly transferred to Celestine - Why didn't she just speak up?! Or when the two of us were walking and she would persist in walking behind me, even if we had to squeeze through small spaces and it would have been easier for her to take the lead for a minute. I found myself becoming exasperated that this bright girl, earning exceptional marks in her biology and chemistry classes could be so meek in the presence of men or a white person.

But this is the crux of the problem with gender inequality (as I see it) in Kenya, and perhaps everywhere; it is so easy to blame the woman when in fact it is the men who need to take the most drastic steps to achieve equality between the genders. Certainly women have a crucial role to play, but it is completely unfair to place the burden of change on their shoulders when they are powerless and disenfranchised in the most basic situations of everyday life (i.e. answering a question which is directed at them in their own words). It is not enough for girls to become educated if they come home to husbands and fathers who sit on their butts while their women scurry around, bringing them food, clean clothes, and whatever else they want.

I do see empowered women everywhere in Kenya and I do not mean to diminish the work of brilliant feminists in this country - the brave women who speak out against FGM, the handful of female MP's who fight tirelessly for women on issues like rape and domestic violence, and all the bright and bold girls I've met in schools and churches throughout my internship. But the avenues available to them are limited and narrow and often require them to compromise in ways that American women don't have to. Furthermore, the reality of how people treat me by virtue of my skin color and assumed wealth (in spite of my gender) confirms that women in the developing world are truly at the bottom of the totem pole, which is incredibly frightening when you stop to think about what that means.

I enjoyed the moments when Celestine and I walked separate from the men and had the opportunity to really chat. Though soft-spoken, she is articulate and charming, and like many Kenyan women, would probably say even more if she thought people were interested in listening.

Safari! A few highlights...

For those of you who know my mom and I, most of these will come as no surprise. Here are some of the best parts of our 5 days on safari in Kenya:

• Our guides, Boniface and Jimmy. Both indulged my endless stream of questions (“Why is that impala all by himself?” “Why do zebras have stripes?”) as well as our constant need for restrooms and shopping opportunities. Very gracious, very knowledgeable, AND they found us a leopard!

Boniface, Cindy, me, Jimmy with our sweet ride.

• #4, our tent. Sekenani Tent Camp consists of 15 platform tents furnished in a modest Colonial style, complete with a private veranda and a bathtub – which had hot water ALL THE TIME. We relished the evening hours between our game drives and dinner, enjoying gin and tonics (in honor of the British of course) and hot baths each night.

Mom's bed.

My bed.

• A literal run in with a matriarch elephant. It was morning of our full day game drive and we came upon a herd consisting of 3-4 females and about 4-5 young. We inched up the road to improve photo opportunities and the mama took a few warning steps towards us…Jimmy slowly backed away and we continued to snap. A few minutes later she began walking briskly up the road toward our vehicle and the message was clear – we needed to move. Jimmy took the hint and we drove away, but not without being completely humbled but the largest female on earth!

This picture does not do her justice...notice the little adolescent in the background making his way toward the rest of the group... "Junior, go stand with your auntie while I deal with these pesky mzungus!"

• Our first hot air balloon ride! We rose at 4:30 am in order to fly calm skies. The balloon held 16 people, and I think I heard him say we went about 7,000 feet up. There’s nothing like drifting through the clouds as the morning sunlight comes pouring over the hills of the Mara.

Mom and me in our balloon basket.
She is the cutest!
Sunrise over the Mara.

• Lions, after breakfast. The morning of our balloon ride we spotted a pride of lions from the air. Personally, I saw a blob of yellow and pretended to be interested while the Europeans with binoculars oohed and aahed. But then our pilot drove us over to the spot after landing. We got within feet of nearly a dozen lions resting lazily not far from the ravaged carcass of an eland, the lion’s breakfast. They would be continuing their feast after some napping, but when we saw them their bellies were round and the males lounged apart from the females and babies, clearly the fullest in the group. It’s no secret that lions are magnificent animals, but seeing them so close, completely nonchalant and cuddling with their young after such a savage kill was truly amazing.

"We just devoured an eland so now we're tired. Next question?"
The rest of the family.

• R&R at the Fairview. We loved the last few days of our trip together, spent lounging by the pool, reading and swimming, and (of course) eating quite a bit of delicious food. This is a lovely hotel, built in the 1930’s (during the Colonial Era) with lush gardens full of every variety of palm, immense bougainvillea, nandi flame, and pomegranate trees. When we finally departed a couple days ago we were both happily sunburned, well-fed, and rested.

Oh yes.
Lunchtime.

I got to spend about 2 weeks with my mom which made me very happy. We saw many sides of Kenya and I feel renewed after getting some quality family time. Now, back to work ☺

Mom in Mbakalo

Cindy’s time with me in SVH-Mbakalo went way beyond eating ugali and answering a chorus of “How are YOU?”s every time we left the house. She did these things, and she did them well, but I think her experience working with the SOTENI Dispensary staff on various projects, and sharing in a bit of Luhya culture far exceeded anyone’s expectations, including my own.

Naturally, everyone was thrilled to meet her and all of my friends in Mbakalo gave my mom a warm Kenyan welcome from the beginning. She had come with a large duffle bag full of donations including sanitation supplies for the dispensary and stationary for the staff. Simon and Mttaki received these donations very graciously, and were also grateful when after spending hours organizing patient cards with Victor and me, Mom offered to fund another box to keep them neat and orderly.

Mom, getting blood work done by Isaac (she needs to get her blood sugar a bit lower...)

Cindy also had the opportunity to be a part of Mama Anne’s household, which has become my own home, and see what my life has been like for the last few weeks. We enjoyed watching Anne form the many chapos amidst smoke in the kitchen hut, and then savored each bite while recounting the stories of the day at dinner with Anne and her husband. My mom loved Anne’s wit and irreverence, and was impressed by her life’s accomplishments. We also took a fabulous pikipiki ride from the Mbakalo slums to the mansion of the former MP and saw shambas, mud huts, skinny cows, and squealing children along the way. One of the best parts of having my mom with me in Mbakalo was probably taking our bucket showers by full moonlight under the jacaranda tree in the backyard, and sleeping cozily under my mosquito net, always by 9:30 pm.

Cindy on the pikipiki!

Cindy and Kelly while on the pikipiki

I think the highlight for both of us, however, was the magical game of football that erupted on the front lawn of the dispensary one afternoon before we left.

My good friend and former SOTENI intern Mike had asked me to follow up on a SOTENI football team, an idea Victor had had back when Mike was still in Mbakalo. When I went to Nairobi to get Cindy, Randie supplied me with uniforms and a pump so that when we got back to Mbakalo we were able to present Victor with the accoutrements of the team. Finally, when the patient cards were complete and only a few hours remained of our final afternoon at the dispensary, we decided we needed a break from work and patient cards, and it was time to play football.

Mom & Victor, getting things started.

As Cindy and Victor warmed up (in uniform) outside, I rounded up the rest of the crew and pretty soon, nearly a dozen people were pouring out of the building, donning the blue and black jerseys. We had our Chairman Mttaki (retired, with adult children, but superb with headers), Jane cook-cleaner-and-sanitation-expert of the dispensary (extremely shy but also a tenacious and fearless goalkeeper, who knew!), Simon, Isaac, Dennis, Catherine, Paul, Victor, Mom, and me. We divided into two teams and spent the next glorious hour dodging trees and shrubbery, occasionally trash-talking, laughing, and eventually ending in a rain-soaked draw; 4-4.

Mttaki getting us into teams.

My team! Dennis, Jane, Mttaki, Me, Issac, and referee Japheth.

Mom's Team. Catherine, Mom, Paul, Japheth, Simon, Victor.

The footballers, sisi sote pamoja.

Anyone who has played sports while abroad knows there is nothing like it to bring people together, to reduce them to the most simple and happy versions of themselves, and to create bonds which are rare and enduring. That afternoon, we were all completely content. We were breathless, sore, and muddy and I cannot think of a better way for my mom to experience the warmth and optimism of Kenya.

Isaac, Japheth, Simon & Mttaki during the farewell speeches.
A good tree bears good fruit...

Mom, me, Dennis at Mom's farewell party

Mbakalo

I came home this evening to find my host mother, Mama Anne in the outdoor kitchen (a traditional round Kenyan mud hut with thatched roof) cooking chapattis. Lately she’s been finding any excuse to use my headlamp, so when she told me there was no gas to be purchased in Webuwye (the closest town of any kind) and she would be cooking the whole meal outside over a fire, I rushed to grab it. Seeing my little round Anne with the headlamp secured around her headscarf, squinting into the smoke over a pan of sizzling chapos was positively heart-warming.

Anne with her granddaughter Lavinda, 7 mos.

I am in SVH-Mbakalo and loving it.

Besides no gas in Webuwye, there has been no rain when it should have been raining all month, so the fields lay plowed but not planted, and there are hardly vegetables or fruits to be had. A strong reminder that living as a Kenyan, I am no longer immune to the difficulties of climate change and global food shortages, as I have been living in the USA. But even this fact is a welcome challenge among the many of living in the rural interior of Kenya.

Everyday I walk about ½ mile to the Dispensary, a very successful example of SOTENI’s work. I feel unbelievably fortunate to spend the entire day among people I like. There is a collective sense of commitment amongst the staff, some of whom are making far below what they are worth in order to support this facility.

ABD Henry Mwami with the daughter of one of his clients - her name is Violet.

Simon is the SOTENI coordinator, an over-worked but optimistic pastor who is trying to learn to ride a motorbike, an endless source of entertainment for the rest of us; Wycliffe Mttaki is chair of the Local Management Committee, and has the most charming and musical accent I’ve ever heard, courtesy of four years spent earning his degree in the UK; Victor is the Dispensary Accounts Clerk, a 29-year-old single father, completely committed to SOTENI’s work and very articulate and friendly; Henry the night watchmen and one of six ABDs (AIDS Barefoot Doctors), a good-natured and eternally positive man who also believes in the life-changing impact SOTENI has had on this community here; Isaac is the laboratory technologist (yes, this is actually his title), one of over 30 children, and is extremely intelligent, actually one of the top scorers on the national exam for his field; Japheth is the Nurse in Charge, and also happens to be trained in dentistry, which is a first for the dispensary and very exciting; Jane is the doer of all things – making tea, cleaning the facilities, doing the laundry, and though limited in her English abilities, she is ready with smiles and blessings whenever there is a need.

Me & Victor with one of my favorite babies in Mbakalo - Japheth.

Everything is Poa :-)

There are Luo Men and then there is THE Luo Man...

This is what I have learned over the last couple of days, culminating with my pilgrimage to the home of Mama Sarah Obama, or “Granny”.

The whole crew with Granny! (Edward, me, Opondo, Calvin, Randie, The Lady Herself, & Bill)

I spent a few days in SVH-Ugenya, which is in Luoland in the western province of Kenya. I was repeatedly frustrated by my meetings with the notoriously chauvinistic and big-headed Luo men; reminding them each time introductions were made that I existed, hearing my ideas acknowledged only when a man repeated them, listening to discussions on the merits of polygamy and wife inheritance…at one point Randie and I had to distribute the refreshments at a meeting because it didn’t occur to any of the men to get up and take a soda, and god forbid a meeting start without the beverages distributed. I bit my tongue on many occasions. One man in particular, Chris Opondo who sits on the SOTENI Kenya board eventually won me over with his charm and we were able to have a good natured discussion on the pros and cons of dowries, but it took about 3 days for me to be able to laugh at his controversial jokes (“Edward, if I were you I would try very hard to win Kelly’s heart – she would be free!”).

Meeting the adopted grandmother of President Obama, however, reminded me that some Luo men are more than tolerable and in fact the USA is lucky to have one as president! During the controversy of the 2007 Kenyan presidential elections, as Barack Obama was beginning his USA presidential campaign, Kenyans would joke “I wonder who will have a Luo president first, the USA or Kenya?”. We should consider ourselves lucky that we beat out Kenya in that regard!

Edward (SOTENI Kenya Programme Manager), me, and Calvin (SVH-Ugenya Coordinator) in front of Granny's house

When we arrived to the Obama compound in Kogelo, it was evident that the family’s fame was generating some new income. A huge gate guarded the compound and a series of police tents were set up for security just inside the entrance. Evidence of construction and new latrines (in expectation of busloads of tourists) were to be seen everywhere. We were shown the graves of Barack Hussein Obama, Sr, and Hussein Onyanga Obama by Sadiq, the half-brother of the President. After a brief wait, Granny came out, looking like a very typical Kenyan woman (old t-shirt, long skirt, and headscarf) and chatted with us. Opondo translated the Kiluo to English while the giddy Americans asked questions (“How has life changed since the election?” “Does the President like ugali?”). She is a strong, healthy woman (87 years old!) who was gracious and jovial with her guests. And she indulged us many rounds of photos, which was generous of her, considering the compound receives an estimated 600 visitors every day.

Me and Granny

Opondo with Granny

It’s clear that her home has become a tourist attraction but I am still very happy to have gone!

The token pikipiki (motorbike) shot - I found out later that this guy was the most reckless driver in our group. Sweet.

Just another day in Kuria

Today started and ended with a bang.

This morning I left to travel to Mabera for my final day of orphan recruitment. It was a typical situation; my friend Robi and I crammed into the back seat of a Nissan station wagon (the favored public transport vehicle for Kuria’s unpaved, windy and pothole-ridden roads) along with two other people, while two passengers shared the front seat, and the driver shared his own seat with his 7th passenger, whose lap he reached across to shift gears.

About one kilometer outside Kehancha, a huge truck came barreling around a blind curve, and to avoid a sideswipe, our driver veered off into a ditch with a violent crash, leaving us tipped dangerously up on one side. I encouraged Robi to get out of the car ASAP. Fortunately, the car was easily pushed out of the ditch and back onto the road, with one flat tire and my punctuality in Mabera being the main casualties.


After the tire was changed we arrived in Mabera where I spent my final day cruising the Kurian countryside on motorbike (aka piki piki in these parts) to visit with 3 more children. This trip concludes orphan recruitment in Kuria and I will now sort through many pages of notes, numerous photos and attempt to select 12 children for recommendation to SOTENI. Twelve is a woefully small number and my hope is that I will be able to recruit additional donors to sponsor more of the children I’ve met, all of whom would be overjoyed with some extra help.



It was a long day and we arrived back in Kehancha for lunch after 5pm. After some ugali, skuma and danga (small fish), I went outside for my daily bucket shower. I am in a new homestay due to some petty theft at my old place, and at this house the bathing area is outside, along with the pit latrines. I love the outdoor shower because you can see over the top of the door to the sky, and today I was able to observe a terrific thunderstorm rolling in as I washed. The lighting was incredible and the sky was black in a matter of minutes.

It’s still pouring outside and I am thankful for the roof over my head. I am also grateful for the meal I will take in about an hour, and the big bowl of bananas, papayas, and pineapples grown right here on the shamba that I’ll have for dessert. If nothing else, today reminded me how lucky I am!

Home!

I wanted to share a bit more about my daily life here, especially what home looks like. I think I've mentioned that I live with a host mother, 2 host sisters and a domestic servant, with the host brother in the next housing unit over. What I haven't mentioned is that all the women live in a tiny 1-bedroom concrete home, and I occupy that bedroom by myself. The other people sleep in the living room (a bed has been brought in which Shirley sleeps on, and Pauline, Bhoke and the Maid sleep on the couches). The tiny kitchen is adjacent to the living room and can comfortably accommodate only two people working. The bathroom is the only other room in the house. There is a courtyard-type space, part of which is covered, for doing laundry and sitting outside, and also houses the chicken coup. The road leading up to our house, like most roads in Kuria District, is dirt and unnamed.

Our House (the blue gate is our entrance), which is one of several units in this building.

The courtyard, early evening with clotheslines.

My bedroom with my blue mosquito net (no window screens in Kenya).