Out of Africa

Peace Corps has decided to temporarily suspend its program in Kenya after weeks of post-election unrest. Volunteers in Western parts of the country were evacuated first, but last week us remaining few were given 24 hour notice to pack our stuff and leave our sites. Technically we've all officially completed our service, which included a comprehensive medical exam (no parasites getting a free trip to the States on my watch!) in addition to mounds of paperwork. If I ever thought it was difficult to get into Peace Corps, I've found it's even more difficult to leave. In more ways than one.

The situation in Kenya will be re-assessed in 3 months to determine if and when we can return to our sites and our projects. I'm optimistic, as my time here has shown me that Kenyans are very hopeful and resilient, even in the face of mounting adversity.

In the meantime, I'm trying to brace myself for February temperatures in DC and not February temperatures in Mutomo.

Stay tuned for more updates, and enjoy some newly uploaded photos.

I've Been Lost

"Umepotea!" is the first thing I am greeted with when I say stop in to say hello to the locals back in Mutomo. In Kiswahili it translates to "you've been lost", which is a common Kenyan greeting when reuniting with someone you've not seen in a while. I usually respond with "but I've been found!", because my less-than-perfect sense of direction is common knowledge around these parts, and it's safe to assume I've just been lost because usually it's true.

Despite the fact that I knew where I was the entire time (and therefore not lost. Just wanted to clarify that.), I've finally returned safely to Mutomo. Now begins the task of making amends with my favorite fruit mamas and shop owners, all of whom will want details on where I have been and what I've been doing. It's nice to be missed.

Having been away from my site and spending time at a fellow volunteer's home for our extended vaca following post-election unrest resulted in getting to know the locals and the neighborhood as if it were our own. Granted, 5 new and freshly tanned foreigners would cause quite a stir in any village, including the one we were inhabiting. But before long we all had our favorite mamas selling fresh coconut who we'd count on for the local gossip; we quickly learned shortcuts to and from the beach, causing a small stampede of children running from their homes in droves to greet us; even the local juice bar employees started to treat us as regulars and had our favorite drinks committed to memory. Amid the uncertainty and underlying tension gripping the nation, (even we were not immune- do you have any idea how difficult it is to ration sunblock out each day?!),we managed to make the best of being stranded at the beach and embracing our new community. I certainly didn't feel lost.

As schools reopen and things start to get back to normal for me, the future of my Peace Corps friends and colleagues remains unclear. Depending on the location of their site placement, they may or may not get permission to return due to safety and security concerns. So we patiently wait.

In the meantime, I've uploaded some new photos. Enjoy.

Extended Vacation

Happy New Year! Due to the election outcomes and some travel restrictions that followed with regard to various states of unrest across the country, I've been holed up at a fellow volunteer's house near the beach with access only to white sands and clear water but no computer. Sorry for the delayed "I'm okay" update…FYI, I'm okay.

The area in which I was vacationing saw little activity with regard to violence, although we did feel the pinch of food shortages and inflated prices for the few vegetables that remained in the market. A little creative cooking, food rationing, and a lot of patience was required, but myself and my 4 colleagues remained unscathed from the entire ordeal. This is quite a feat considering how quickly boredom sets in and people quit being nice and start getting real. (MTV's Real World would be a cake walk in comparison).

I'm now in Mombasa to return to Nairobi at the end of the week. Hopefully I can return to my site soon with the blessings of the Peace Corps and resume the hygiene lessons in the schools. I shudder to think about all of the unwashed hands that are roaming around Mutomo. More updates (and pictures!) soon.

Hope the holidays were safe and happy.

It's beginning to look a lot like...

...matumbo? -The Swahili word for goat intestines, which are a popular dish in Kenya.

Not to be confused with Mutomo.

Last week was another public holiday, so we decided to throw an early Christmas party, complete with roasting a goat and his innards.

See exhibit A (top right) for the before pose and exhibit B for the after. The goat was purchased at the market that morning (to ensure freshness), tied to a tree with rope, and was nibbling at the grass enjoying it's last meal and whining in protest rather loudly. Suffice it to say,

the meat tasted a little sweeter after enduring this.

The food is roasted over an open fire. Instead of chestnuts this holiday season, we had goat meat. As you can see, I am eating with my hands, which is not only lots of fun, but also culturally acceptable. I'm integrating into the community as best I can. Before digging in, I made certain we all washed our hands thoroughly with water poured from a pitcher over a basin. They don't call me the Health and Hygiene Promotion Advisor for nothin.

This year, my holidays will be spent at Tiwi Beach, just south of Mombasa on the coast of Kenya. Since several different forms of public transportation are required to reach my destination, some entertaining stories are sure to result. Kenya are holding their presidential and parliamentary elections on the 27th of December, but if all goes according to plan, I'll be lounging at the side of the Indian Ocean, toes in the sand, avoiding sunburn under the shelter of an enormous paper umbrella floating in an equally enormous cocktail.

Safe and happy holidays, everyone.

November Rains

Mutomo has finally entered the "short rains" season. This was scheduled to come mid-October, but they work on their own time, which seems to be whenever is most inconvenient for me.

Here is a typical scenario describing the rains and my misfortune:

• The skies are completely clear and bright


• I decide to run some errands in town


• I leave behind my raincoat and/or umbrella (this is sub-Saharan Africa- I don't want to draw more attention)


• Due to the scorching heat, I'm usually wearing cool and light colors. Such as white.


• At the exact moment that I am as far as possible from any sort of shade or shelter there comes a downpour of rain

This rain is so fierce that it actually stings. There isn't much I can do but stand there and suffer through it, or seek some cover under a leaky tarp from a mama selling overripe bananas. Although they don't look appealing or fresh, I buy a few in exchange for preserving what is left of my dripping wet dignity.

Along with the rains come a whole host of new bugs and insects that seem to want to make my acquaintance by inviting themselves into my room, without giving me time to adequately assess their potential danger or intimidation factor. It's a jungle in there.

Last week we finally completed our handwashing lesson at three schools. In total, over 1,000 students received the hygiene message, so I expect by the time word gets around during our next set in January, we'll need to arrange for crowd control. These Peer Educators are a hot commodity. Check out the pictures.

Destruction Hits Mutomo

Over the weekend Mutomo experienced some rain and high winds which resulted in a mini-tornado that ripped the roof off six classrooms at one of the local schools. Luckily nobody was injured, but this was the school that was going to get the first hygiene lesson, so we obviously had to reschedule. Something tells me that hand washing wouldn't have been a high priority without a roof over their heads. Unless we adjust our lesson to include classroom renovations. We might be good, but not that good.

While Mutomo was dealing with Mother Nature's antics, I was in Kitui meeting up with some fellow Volunteers and of course to see my host family who was hosting a party. There were lots of people and lots of food and my host brother was the first to greet me, grinning and showing off the progress of his growing front teeth. He'll need a new nickname since mapengo (affectionately translated to "toothless") is no longer accurate.

I stayed with a nearby Volunteer, who lives only about 8 kilometers out of Kitui town, but with public transport this ride is usually 15-20 minutes long. After I boarded and crammed in, we cruised around looking for more people to pickup until the matatu was more than completely full, then promptly got pulled over at a police checkpoint. The obligatory handover of kitu kidogo (something small) was exchanged for a turning of the back to all of the number of rules we were violating. It must have been a sufficient payoff, since the AK-47 remained untouched, slung over the officer's shoulder as he wandered around the car and waved us on. Weaving through the large metal spikes in the road, we were finally on our way. But not before stopping for petrol on the edge of town, the tout hanging out the sliding door window, slapping the roof, calling for more passengers as we passed them on the road. Not sure where he was planning to fit them, but I guess he'd worry about that upon arriving at the next police checkpoint.

When I arrived back to Mutomo, I ran into my neighbor kids as I was walking to my room. I was happy to see them, but they peered at me suspiciously and, hands on hips, the 8-year old ringleader asked where I had been all weekend. I realized I hadn't cleared my travel with her. Guilty, I hung my head and murmured, "Kitui". Unconvinced, she narrowed her eyes, looked me up and down, and asked where my bags were. I pointed to the bag on my back. She nodded her head in approval and let me continue, calling out after me that they missed me while I was gone. Looks like I'll need to fire up the popcorn this weekend to put this little misunderstanding behind us.

Happy (early) Thanksgiving! A turkey can be pardoned for me, since I think it looks like roasted goat meat or chicken in my future. I'll let you know how Kenya celebrates.

The Sounds of Mutomo

Sunday 6:57am:
The Muslim call to prayer can be heard through the loudspeakers. A baby tests her lung capacity by screaming outside my window. Gospel music echos from the nearby church. A baboon does what sounds like an aerobics class on the tin roof above my head. Then a rooster crows, getting louder and louder until it sounds like it has snuck into my room and is crowing directly into my ear.

In an unprecedented team effort, the community of Mutomo has come together to disrupt any hopes I had of sleeping in on the weekend. These creatures do not observe Sundays.

Arising early on the weekend means I can feel smugly productive and accomplished for the rest of the day, but then I realize all the mamas have been up since dawn cleaning, feeding their family, looking after the children, as well as running the entire household, and they still find time for church, so I really can't compare. But getting up that early does minimize the guilt if I decide to doze off later while reading a book.

Five primary schools are nearing completion of their pit latrines, so next Friday my peer educators make their debut hand washing lesson at the first school. It's already been made clear that I am their agent and manager to book their gigs, and any offers for additional promotions or endorsements need to go through me first. I know a good thing when I see it.

Happy Kenyatta Day

Today is a national holiday after Kenya's founding president, Jomo Kenyatta, which also happens to fall on market day, meaning Mutomo has the allotted excitment for the month all packed into one day. I made my usual rounds, visited my egg man, who added in an extra egg to my bag holding it up to the sun proclaiming "for Kenyatta." Further into town there was lots of dancing and singing by school children and old mamas, in addition to some very creative handiwork for celebratory outfits (note the photo with used beer bottle caps which results in a harmonious melody when mamas shake their behinds in unison). I showed up as the festivities were well underway, sweating under the sun, and lugging my purchases from the market. A police officer ushered me to a seat under the shade, but as I looked around to apologize to the small child who was undoubtedly removed from his/her seat on account of my presence, I was told they had been waiting and the chair was saved for me.

This week I travelled to the nearest volunteer (2.5 hours away) to help with a Youth Empowerment Day she was organizing. To arrive there, I rode two different matatus and then a bicycle taxi to arrive at the school (called a boda boda-the name comes from transporting people across the "no-mans-land" between border posts without the paperwork required with vehicles crossing the international border. "boda-boda" for "border-to-border"). It literally involves a guy pedalling on a bicycle while you sit on the back of it and enjoy the scenery. I hopped on board, and immediately after we took off the guy started panting and wheezing. I apologized for being "too heavy", but he shook his head in agreement. Before reaching our destination, I succeeded in breaking a spoke on the rear wheel, which resulted in us having to dismount and walk the rest of the way. He apologized and blamed it on the rough roads. I apologized and blamed it on the peanut butter I've been devouring. Maybe it's a combination of the two.

Last Sunday I played catch with some of the neighbor kids. I'm sure watching a grown person playing with small children rather than attending church was a sight in itself, but since I stand out enough already, I thought I'd take full advantage of this and extend my liberties to roll around the dirt with them. I taught them a hand-clapping game, and they taught me a dance. Afterwards, I made us popcorn. The oldest girl, who also appears to be the self-appointed leader of the neighborhood children, appreciated the popcorn but correctly pointed out it lacked salt. She's 8. Embarrassed, I got her the requested condiment. Sassy little thing.

As a result, additional photos have been added to the site. Enjoy!

Anna vs. the Ants

Okay, the deal with the ants is off. They've been multiplying rapidly and holding parties when I'm not there. What would the nuns think? I have a reputation to uphold, you know. They've also successfully invaded my last line of defense, my cereal box, and now it's over. I hope they've planned a good exit strategy, because I've invested in "Ant-Go", which admittedly looks a bit suspect (no instructions, expiration date, ingredients, etc), and strangely resembles table salt, but if it delivers what the name suggests, I'll be happy. It's getting a bit crowded in my little room.

Wednesday I went to Kitui. Of course no trip to Kitui would be complete without visiting my host family, and so it was. At their insistence that I not "reduce" (in size. as if there was any chance of that happening) they bought me lunch at one of the local food joints and we had a nice time catching up. They have another new trainee living with them who they called a "blessing", and who I also happened to meet when running errands. Hey, it's a small town.

Also this week the Peer Educators performed their hygiene promotion lesson for some important local officials (nuns included). The lesson includes a skit, visual aids, and a song (dancing is optional but encouraged) in the local language, Kikamba. This was a first run through of the lesson plan that we've been composing and finalizing for the last 2 months, and they've made me quite proud. They're a great bunch. In a few weeks we're taking the show on the road to the primary schools when the first latrines are completed. Brace yourselves, folks.

P.S. I've added some photos of classrooms and latrines from visits to the schools. Now you can see what I see. Enjoy.

Mutomo's Small 5

Mutomo is located conveniently near one of Kenya's oldest and biggest National game parks, which is probably why this region is known for it's array of animals. There are of course the "Big 5", but there are also those which the guide books don't mention. These seem to have taken up residence in my small room, making the less well-known but equally impressive "Small 5". I wonder if I could start charging admission to view these.

We have the following (in order of annoyance):

scorpions- yes, they seem to have followed me from Kitui. I've only spotted one outside my room, but it won't be long before it realizes my host mama is still in Kitui and does not pose an immediate threat anymore


spiders- are fearless and usually appear on my towel early in the morning when I am exiting the shower, groggy and vulnerable

ants- we have an agreement that I will tolerate their little parades through my room but if I find them in my sugar bowl, I will eat them alive without hesitation

lizards- salamanders, geckos, I'm not sure of the difference, but they're probably all in my room. The only good thing about these is that they are very skittish and seem to be more afraid of their own shadow than of me. I usually leave them alone (unless they are in my bed)

mosquitoes- am constantly trying to discourage these persistent beasts by sleeping under a mosquito net and taking my malaria meds dutifully. They're not getting my non-verbal signals.

Until we can work out our differences and co-exist peacefully, I'm arming my fortress and the brave will be sorry. To demonstrate I mean business, I've invested in a spray can of Doom, a favorite repellant among Kenyans to rid their homes of pesty creatures. I'm considering purchasing a holster so I can practice whipping out the can as an added incentive if the negotiations aren't going my way.

In other news, the constructions of the pit latrines at the first school has officially begun. As it's completed, myself and the Peer Educators will start our descent onto the Primary school students to try and convince them that hand washing is important and fun. Wish me luck.

Hope everyone is well.

PS. I've added some photos and a video clip to the site. Enjoy. I'll add more as I have them.

The Nuns and the Runs

Finally some photos! Although these pictures hardly do the town of Mutomo true justice, it's some indication as to what I see everyday. Notice the dirt roads and the abundance of donkeys and church signs. The options are so overwhelming that I have yet to make my choice.

Speaking of church, there are some fierce nuns who work on the hospital compound who are big rugby followers. Now that rugby season has started, I know more about Irish rugby than I ever thought I'd learn in a lifetime (especially in Kenya).

Sometimes, no matter what you do, you may have the bad luck to come down with diarrhea. (sorry, there's just no good transition for that). Fortunately, there is a pit latrine about 50 feet away from the office that I could sprint to several times a day. Squatting and aiming over a small hole in a cement slab over and over again demands some serious balance and focus. Yet again I find myself sparing you the details (trust me, this is sparing the details), but on the upside, I think my thigh muscles have strengthened as a result. Treatment includes letting it pass on it's own in 5-7 days, but since I can't trace the origin of the tenants harboring unwelcomed in my digestive tract, I don't know what to avoid in the future. Also on the upside, I can finally partake in the lively and commonplace brag-fests that occur when any Peace Corps people get together to tell tales of amoebas, giardia, and other such fun health concerns. The opportunities abound. Did I mention life is a bit uneventful here?

In the end, I am feeling better, a bit more acclimated to life in Kenya, and a bit more prepared to face the next bout, as I'm sure this is not the last.

What's Behind Door #4?

We were on another site visit to schools the day I finally met
my match. I knew it would only be a matter of time, but I
hoped to prolong it as long as possible, maybe forever. We had visited about 25 schools, and had gotten into a bit of a routine when surveying the grounds. When it came to inspecting the pit latrines, my standard procedure was to hold my nose, creak open the door (if it had one), look around as if I expected to see something, nod approvingly, jot down some notes, take some photos, and move on. By this time I've seen a number of pit latrines in various conditions, but none quite like the one I saw this time. We were at a school that had 4 stalls in a row, all without doors except one, which was closed. I began my inspection protocol, and eventually ended up at the last door. In order to be thorough and to satiate my curiosity, I creaked open the metal door and peeked in. Instinctively, my eyes looked down to assess the condition of the floor of the latrine first, and came across a snake stretched out near the entrance. I let go of the door and backed away, motioning to our Kenyan tour guides that there was something inside that needed their attention. I'm not sure how to explain that motion in words, but they seemed to understand.

Seemingly embarrassed and caught in a compromising position, the snake tried to slither out of the latrine unnoticed, but all eyes were on it as the three guys circled around, throwing large branches at it until it stopped moving. As I watched from a distance, one of the bravest guys finished it off, picked up the limp body with a stick and threw it down the very same pit latrine to it's final resting place. I thanked all of them profusely, shaking their hands, but they shrugged it off as though it was commonplace. They did walk around the rest of the school compound with us wielding large sticks, though.

Upon returning to Mutomo I mustered up the courage to flip through one of the engineers' books on various types of snakes (complete with photos and detailed descriptions-this does not help my fear) but I could not locate it. Now I don't know if that should alleviate my fear or heighten it.

I'm going to start kicking in the pit latrine door Rambo-style, from now on, just to be safe.

I'm in Nairobi this weekend for work-related duties.
Happy Labor Day. Don't work too hard.

disclaimer: no animals were harmed in the writing of this entry, although I can't say the same for the unfortunate ones that cross my path here in Kenya.

School Tours

Last week I spent visiting schools in the area we’re working with, helping to complete a follow-up assessment to an earlier survey. This involved meeting with the headmasters of the schools, taking photos and measurements of classrooms, inquiring about water consumption, inspecting the latrines (my favorite part), and providing excitement for the students while unintentionally disrupting their summer school classes. Although we arrived unannounced to all of the schools, we were received with warm receptions.

We travelled in a pickup truck, or a “Yute” (short for “utility”) as I’m told by my Australian supervisor, three of us snug in the front cab. Some of the roads made the Kitui-Mutomo road look like a racetrack in comparison, but with a proper vehicle and a skilled Kenyan driver, the roads were actually possible to traverse. I’d like to consider myself an optimist, but several times we came across a river, stream, ditch, cluster of roots and rocks, tree branches, thorns, washed away gullies, livestock, I thought for sure we’d need to give up and turn around. I even saw a mountain goat attempt to climb a bank alongside the road and slip and fall. Not kidding. The driver didn’t even blink as he put the Yute into gear and gunned it forward. As a result, I have a sore rear end and a bruised collarbone from the seat belt holding me in place while we jostled around.

Many of the schools had no signboards or other indication to announce its location or how far away it was, so we navigated most of the roads with pure instinct and the assistance of the local villagers and their directions. The people in this area are notoriously known for saying anyywhere you’re going is “just there”, as in, you’re always almost there. No matter that we’ve been driving for hours since the last person directed us with the school being “just there”. Sometimes the driver would turn to me and unknowingly ask the person with the world’s worst sense of direction, “Are we lost?" If you’re asking me, I think we’re in trouble. At every junction, the driver would suggest we proceed in one direction, my supervisor suggesting another, and they would both turn expectantly to me to break the tie. I effectively excused myself from weighing in, warning them that even if I suggested I had a “gut feeling” about a certain path to take, they should ignore me completely, or go the exact opposite way.

Also, interestingly enough, although I rode with a different driver each day, all of the drivers are men, none of them seemed to have any hesitation asking the locals for directions when realizing (and admitting) we were lost. Hmm…there goes that nature vs. nurture argument…

And it was a happy birthday, thanks all for the wishes.

Cheers!
(also as my Aussie supervisor would say)

Home, Sweet Mutomo

So far, so good. I'm learning how to cook with the locally available produce which includes lots of tomatoes, potatoes, onions, avocado, and garlic. LOTS of garlic. Every one of my meals involve some combination of these aforementioned ingredients. It does take some serious creativity, and I've found the upside of eating lots of garlic is that it scares away the mosquitoes (and some people).

This past weekend I saw my first dead snake, stoned to death on the hospital grounds. Lucky for me, Kenyans seem to dislike snakes as much as I do, and are far more brave to actually do something about it. Also fortunate for me, they do not seem to make a distinction between those which are harmful and poisonous and those which are not when attempting to kill them. Even the nuns here try to assure me that snakes are more scared of me than I am of them, but I honestly don't think that is even possible. Maybe my garlic breath will scare them off, too.

Saturday is Market Day here in Mutomo, which is probably the most exciting thing to happen in a week. I've started buying my weekly allotment of oranges and eggs from the same sellers, so I am building a relationship with them (also known as integrating into the community). Often I'll get an extra egg and/or orange slipped in my bag, which I think is a form of appreciation at my attempts to speak Swahili. It's a nice system we have going.

This week I'm going to visit some of the local schools to do some follow-up assessments, so it will be interesting to get out and see more parts of the surrounding areas. More updates to come. Hope all is well.

PS. My foot has seemed to heal itself. I guess ignoring it and feeding it Ibuprofen once in a while is a cure in itself...

The end...and a new beginning

First things first: the chicken lived a long and prosperous life, and although I'll again spare you the details, I did the honors with a steady hand and no tears. I'm directly impacting the circle of life.

Next, last week we were in Nairobi for our swearing in ceremony, so I took advantage of having the medical staff at my disposal to have my foot checked out. It was slightly swollen and the nurse suggested I get it x-rayed. I was sent to Nairobi Hospitals' x-ray department in the Casualty Center, which I hoped was one of those leftover British terms that doesn't translate well into American English or else I was in for a big surprise.
Nothing could be determined from the x-ray, perhaps because I still have a pulse, so I was instructed to take Ibuprofen and rest and ice the foot, which is easier said than done here in Kenya.

Training has come to an end and after our Swahili language proficiency test (I passed!), we've officially been sworn in as Volunteers at the US Ambassador's residence in Nairobi, and yes there was even a certificate involved. Friday we said goodbye and moved to our new sites, where I had the good fortune of returning to Kitui to switch buses and head to Mutomo. Mutomo is directly south of Kitui, two hours down the same dirt road as my homestay family (I'm literally moving down the street). Although the distance in kilometers is not very far, it takes a while to travel because the road is so treacherous. Pot holes that could swallow a car (reminds me of DC), and various livestock being herded around in no hurry to get to their destination (I wonder if they knew my chicken and are holding a grudge). Using public transportation in the form of matatus also calls for an interesting ride, as they are brightly painted minibuses with strange slogans like "DeathStar 2000" painted on the outside, and although it looks like an entire door or other such important part of the vehicle could rattle right off it's hinges at any moment, it always seems to have state-of-the-art speakers blaring music (I've even seen one with a flat screen TV), which does help distract me from fearing for my life at every turn. Luckily for me, Mariah Carey and Toni Braxton are very popular here on the radio.
My ride to from Kitui to Mutomo was so packed full of people that my luggage had to be strapped to the roof. My host mama escorted me onto the bus, pushing her way through the crowd while holding my hand, and helped me to get a good seat. I watched helplessly as my luggage was hoisted atop the roof among sacks of rice, furniture, and bundles of (live) chickens tied together. I was weary about the safety of my belongings, but I heard my host mama yell at the conductor to tie my bag down tightly. He nodded in understanding and as I settled in for a bone-jarring ride, I realized that her word and threat was probably more influential than if I held my bag in my own lap. It must have worked, because during the ride the conductor nestled up to me and asked me if I knew that woman who took me to the bus. Know her?! I told him she was my mama in Kitui and he shook my hand.
I arrived in Mutomo with my bags safely and intact, and made a new friend in the process. Considering I'll need to make trips to the big town of Kitui for the comforts of home rather frequently, it's good to have friends in high places.

I got to my site safely last night and had dinner at the head engineer's house, who also happens to be my neighbor. All present were one Aussie, two Irish, three Kenyans, and one American. Thanks to colonialism, we were all able to communicate, albeit with varying accents.

Now I'm starting to settle in and figure out how to make a 10x6 room feel like a home. Also at the top of my list of things to do is figure out how to download photos, right after locating 4 nails to hang my mosquito net from...

Although Mutomo town does not have power and therefore no internet cafes, the NGO I'm working with has rigged solar panels to the roof of their office and has a modem internet card that's shared among the staff. I'll continue updating when I have good stories and it's my turn to be connected.

Hope all is well with everyone.

P.S. I have a new mailing address. Only a digit away from the most expensive zip code in America, but you wouldn't know it here.

Last Week of Training

Last week we went on an overnight trip to Nairobi to visit the Peace Corps headquarters and a government health organization. The purpose of the trip was to become acquainted with the various resources available to us while at site, such as HIV manuals and teaching supplements, as well as the large framed photos of our President and Vice President. I was nostalgic for a moment when I realized I recognized those two faces right away although I hadn't seen their smiling faces for several months.

I'm not sure how much news from Kenya makes it's way across the world, but there were some earthquake tremors that began in Tanzania and made it's way to Nairobi last week. My host mama said she felt a tremor while she was sleeping, but I was awake and in the same house and didn't notice a thing. I didn't think much of it until we were packed in a matatu on our way to Nairobi and head an announcement on the radio (in English) mentioning that all rumors from the American Embassy warning it's citizens to evacuate were false, and that everyone should continue on as normal. We all turned to stare at one another because I think this was the first time any of us heard anything about it. Then the news report went on to discredit the headlines made by various religious sects and witchdoctors that claimed they could predict the next big earthquake that was scheduled for later that week as a punishment for wrongdoings in Africa (which did not occur, maybe their lines were crossed). It's incredible how much influence religion has here. Meanwhile, the large California contingent of trainees all laughed at us because they experience earthquakes and tremors (not to mention mudslides/wildfires/celebrities driving under the influence) all of the time and told us not to worry.

So all is well and we're wrapping up the last week of training. Several of my colleagues have dropped out after visiting their site and now they're back safely in the US of A. I'm still hanging in there, as is the chicken who will likely meet it's fate this weekend to mark my departure from Kitui. It has grown significantly and is looking healthy. I've noticed it also gets a little nervous around me, so perhaps it can predict the future.
More updates to come...

I Don't Think We're In Kansas Anymore...

The title of this entry has been inspired by Wicked, the latest book I've been reading. But first things first: I know some of you may have been wondering/curious/concerned about who won the starting contest between me and the goat. I'm here to say it's less important to determine a victor and more important to acknowledge the fact that we were having a cross-cultural exchange, breaking down barriers and building bridges on our way to creating a global village. Wouldn't you agree that's what it's all about? I hope that settles that.

Okay, I lost.

My travels in Nairobi involved indulging in Western-style food, making fun of American tourists, and getting locked in a wine store. I was attempting to purchase a celebratory spirit for the site announcement when the lights went out, the doors closed, and my phone suddenly rang. One of my fellow PC-ers was watching this series of events from outside and informed me that they were closing early for inventory and wanted me to make a purchase for him. I obliged.

The next day we were assigned our sites, met our supervisors, and learned about our jobs. I'm working with an Irish-based Non-Governmental Organization who are helping to build pit latrines at local schools who are lacking the proper facilities. My supervisor is Australian, the NGO staff are Irish and Kenyan, and a returned PC Volunteer is working with us from Boston. Needless to say, my American English will likely change...

I am placed in a town called Mutomo, which at least is on the map! It's about 2 hours south of Kitui by a treacherous dirt road, and I'll be living on a hospital compound in a little room. The town itself does not have electricity, but some stores run refrigerators by generator. I have heard that there is a bar in town that you can inform the owner how many beverages you plan to consume later that evening, and he'll put them cold for you to retrieve later that same day. I will be sure to let you know if this rumor is indeed true... The hospital has electricity from 7-10 at night only, also run from a generator, so I'll need to plan accordingly. I am able to purchase fresh vegetables and fruits in town but I found out to my dismay, no peanut butter (I know, where am I?!), but luckily Kitui is not a far distance away, and my host family has already agreed that they will come visit me and get me acquainted with the local matatu drivers who apparently run a sort of underground delivery service if you know the right people.

I'm looking forward to starting on what sounds like a necessary and exciting project and figuring out how to hold my own in Mutomo. I'm back in Kitui now for the next 3 weeks until we're sworn in as Official Volunteers (I think a certificate is involved) and then I move to Mutomo in early August.

Although I only went to Nairobi and turned around and went past Kitui to Mutomo to my site, I was able to see a camel. It's the most exciting wildlife I've seen thus far. Yes, I took a picture, and no it didn't spit on me.

I'm taking photos and will upload them as soon as I can.
Hope all is well with everyone.

This week PC staff came to get us fitted for our bikes which we will receive upon arriving to our site. They measured our height and head circumference for helmets, but there was no mention of training wheels, so I assume they come standard. Hmm.

While giving us our next round of injections, the medical staff mentioned they were surprised about my lack of sunburn. I suspect one of the nurses lost a bet. So far so good.

The rest of my week has been uneventful, as life has started to settle into a routine. One morning I did have a staring contest with a goat on my way to training. It was in my path and not willing to move, so I had to amuse myself somehow.

This weekend we travel back to Nairobi for a week where we find out our site and assignment for the next two years. We'll also get to travel to the site to become acquainted with the community and meet our supervisors. Since this involves making a good first impression, travelling on our own, and coping with whatever comes up, I'm sure to have some good stories from this adventure. In fact, we've been given next Monday off in order to "recover" from the week if that gives you any indication about what's expected of us.

Happy 4th of July. I'll try my best to locate a BBQ pool party at my new site, but in case I am not successful, celebrate Independence Day with a bit of extra patriotism for me. Thank you.

I'll update next week, and until then, no news is good news!

The Cheese Incident

This weekend I took an overnight trip to a nearby town called Machakos (sounds exotic) with some colleagues. After a two hour bus ride through rolling hills and mountains, we arrived safely. Thanks to the Lonely Planet Guide to Kenya, we were able to locate a discount hotel that saved money on hot water (there was none) and flush toilets (apparently just for decoration). We're thrifty.

Machakos was a nice change of pace from Kitui, and it had an enormous grocery store that sold refrigerated food, clothing, bikes, furniture, etc. I went a little wild and bought some cheddar cheese that claimed it came from Holland but was also made in Kenya. I think I was too overwhelmed by the notion of the dairy product I had so been missing that I failed to take caution in this discrepancy. Let this be a lesson in impulse-buying in Kenya, as I do believe I have met the first cheese I didn't like. My dreams of hosting wine and cheese parties upon arriving at my site have been dashed.

This week we began our first real "hands on" project, working with the community to build a sub-service dam to collect rainwater for use in cooking, cleaning, bathing, and drinking. This afternoon I'll also begin my first day at the Voluntary Counseling and Testing Clinic in Kitui. It's good to start feeling productive and embark on some projects.

Still avoiding sunburn, and the chicken is getting along nicely with it's fellow companions. One of our other chickens had 10 baby chicks, so they're running around following the mother and squeaking with delight. If only they knew of thier impending fate. At least free-range chickens are healthier, right?

Kitui's wildlife

Last week I was met with a rather menacing bug on my mosquito net. I called my host mama in for an intervention, and she confirmed my suspicion. This time it was a scorpion. She got a plastic bag, wrapped it around her hand, scooped it up and flung it into the fire.

Good news: Mosquito nets protect against scorpions too.
Bad news: Kenya has scorpions.

I thoroughly inspected my bed before getting into it, insect-free. To mark the occasion, my 7-year old host brother drew me a picture of a scorpion and a spider. I guess everyone copes in their own way, but I'd rather not see one again, in real life or through an artist's rendition.

Otherwise, things are going well. The weather here is hot and dry and cools off nicely at night (and this is the cold season!). Sometimes on my walk home I get followed by a swarm of schoolchildren (see Madonna, it happens to me too here) who ask me various questions and test their bravery about who will get closest to me. I don't mean to attract such attention, but I know it must look like a circus.

At my homestay I'm learning how to do my laundry by hand (the Kenyan women make it look easy by the way) and cook some of the local food over a charcoal stove. I'm popping huge blisters on my feet and avoiding sunburn successfully thus far.

Hope all is well with everyone.

p.s. The chicken (who we've started calling "dinner") lives to see another day.