DAY 2
Unfortunately, that night I wasn’t able to sleep as soundly as I‘d hoped, I knew we had a 25km hike ahead of us so I was less than thrilled to have been woken up at various times thought the night number of reasons. First, Musumba woke me to ask for help getting out of his sleeping bag because he had to use the rest room. After obliging his first request, I was less than enthused to hold the flash light over the stall door for him. This chilly break from my cozy bed was concluded by once again tucking Musumba into his sleeping bag. Ahhhh, back to sleep… but not for long.
“Eric… Eric….. Eric… ERIC!!!” “What?” I replied to Edwin what couldn’t have been an hour after Musumba’s bathroom break. “I need to pee.” Ugh, out of bed I crawled and repeated Musumba’s requests, only this time for the other teacher. After zipping Edwin into his bag, I once again crawled into mine, sure I would be able to sleep peacefully for the rest of the night.
Wrong! Only this time nature was calling me. Returning from my third trip to the bathroom I said a little prayer for a restful remainder of the night. Unfortunately for me, the Big Guy upstairs must have been doing more important things and I was once again awoken by Edwin. “Eric, torch please. I’m stuck in the bag. I can’t move.” Out of bed I crawled yet again to assist Edwin with his issue.
My sleep was interrupted for the last time at 5am when the students, who are used to waking up early, began talking quite loudly in anticipation for the day to come. I again got out of bed after Laurel asked me to talk to them, insisting the students respond better to male teachers. Yeah, sure they do lazy-bones. I went over to the rooms where the boys were sleeping, or rather, not sleeping, and told them we would be sleeping until 6:30. Surprisingly, they kept fairly quiet and I had the most restful hour and a half I had that whole night.
Waking up for me is always rough, and that day was no exception, but I was excited for the day to come, so I was running on adrenaline. We munched on a delicious breakfast prepared by the porters and were once again hiking by 7:30. The scenery on the mountain was quite incredible. It reminded me of the breathtaking scenery in the Lord of The Rings. There were rolling hills all up the side of the mountain, with the majestic peaks in the background, looming over us our entire journey. Then, to turn around and look off the mountain into the vast plains of the Rift Valley was amazing. I’m sure we could see at least a hundred kilometers, through the haze of the warmth below. However, it was still quite cool where we were. I was very excited to see that the evening’s weather had brought frost. As we were hiking from 11,000 feet up to 14,000 feet, we could definitely feel the altitude taking a toll on us. At one point, I was hiking behind Laurel who was walking like a frat boy stumbling out of a bar on St. Patty‘s Day. She was definitely becoming a bit ataxic so I decided this would be a good time to stop and rest to take an Oreo break. (Thanks for sending those Mama Bear!)
As we continued, the students began to ask questions about home. Many of them focused on snow, what it was like, and how we coped with it. We also talked about transportation, languages we spoke, and different laws we had. Bruce wanted to know if most people traveled by matatus in America like they do here. We found that quite funny. I really liked watching the kids play with the frost and the ice sheets from the tiny pools of water as we hiked up. At one of our rest stops, I took some of the ice and much to the students’ amusement, put it down Edwin’s back. This started a trend, and Edwin soon retaliated, much to my dismay. As we continued toward our destination, I was surprised and interested to learn that during the dry season, the elephants in the area come up to where we were to eat the mountain cabbages. It is really amazing to think that an animal so big is able to make the trek at such elevation.
Finally, we made it to our stopping point. It was on top of a beautiful ridge, overlooking a valley with the peaks just beyond. Had we had time to hike another two days, we could’ve been on Point Lenana, the highest one can climb without technical climbing skills, but where we stopped was just fine for this trip. I think what we experienced, the different vegetation as we got higher, and the extremes in temperature and elevation, are things these kids, and I for that matter, won’t soon forget.
- Eric
Friday, December 10, 2010
Mount Kenya Trip: Part Two
Day Two
Ok, so where did I leave off? Oh yes, night time on Mount Kenya. Around 5 o clock, we heard quite a bit of ruckus coming from the students' rooms, so Eric was given the job to inform them that it was only 5 am and that we would all be sleeping for another hour and half. That seemed to work ( they're not used to us wazungu being stern with them). When we woke up, the second time, Eric and I were delighted to see frost on the ground! Not because I'm a fan of the frigid conditions required to produce the layer of ice, but because the students would be able to witness such a phenomenon for the first time. They ask us alot of questions about snow ( more on that in a moment), so we were really excited to be able to show them the closest thing we can find to snow in Kenya. The sunrise over the valleys and towns below us was breathtaking, but unfortunately, no picture could accurately capture the moment. After a good breakfast, we bundled up and headed out for the first 8 km of our 25 scheduled for the day. We were able to leave our backpacks at the camp for this leg since we would be returning for lunch and the climb was significantly harder than the previous day. Not that you'd be able to tell by the pace of the students. While they bounded up the mountain, I struggled to put one foot in front of the other. Bruce actually told me that his legs felt stronger!
After a little ways, a good chunk of the students slowed down significantly while Musumba, Edwine, and a few boys took off without us. Eric and I decided to play with the frost and encouraged the students to pick it up and play with it. They were hesitant at first, and they kept exclaiming how cold it was, but after a bit, they were intrigued by the icicles. Eric decided it would be a good idea to show them how to make a "snowball" with chunks of icicles and thus commenced a one sided snowball fight, with Eric scooping up piles of ice and throwing them at students at random. That sure got them running up the mountain! The students also got curious with the layers of ice that were residing on top of the streams and pools of water. Before long, every sheet of ice was picked up by a student and either used as a cooling system by placing it on top of their heads, or by licking it like a popsicle. We also had the opportunity to talk to a group of students about Winter and the US. They are so interested to learn about how people survive in cold temperatures and ask alot of questions about it. They were really curious about snowplows, so Eric and I did our best to explain to them what they were and how they worked. I really enjoy talking about the States, and home, so I welcomed all of the questions. Talking about it makes it easier to be gone, especially around this time of year.
After almost three hours and a hundred stops, we were at the bottom of the ridge that would be our final destination. The high peaks of Mount Kenya in the distance were the only things keeping me going forward. A quick 20 minute uphill climb and we were there! We were greeted by students sitting at the top, with their legs dangling off of the rock that led to the deep valley below us. The view was absolutely amazing! The valley continued forever, then another ridge jutted up, being the only thing seperating the valley and the highest points of the mountain. At 4000 feet, the air is so fresh, so clean, and you really realize how small we are in the grand scheme of things. As soon as we reached our final stop, clouds started rolling over the mountain, hiding the peaks from us. We quickly assembled each student in front of the peaks, so we could have a picture of each of them documenting their accomplishment. After some group photos, we had to start the descend so we could stay on schedule. The way down went quick, although I beg to differ when people say that going down is easier then going up. I must be getting old, because my knees were really upset with me every step I took. We reached the campsite and had a great lunch of soup and sandwiches, and then continued our final 9km trek down to the park entrance. I was more than okay to be bringing up the rear of the group, as the students literally ran down the mountain. I would use the age excuse again to justify my snail pace, but the teachers were putting us to shame as well. Oh well. We had an absolute gorgeous hiking afternoon, sun shining, with a cool breeze keeping us from overheating. I could never get enough of the beautiful trail that took us through the rich forest of the mountain and offered wonderful views of the hills and valleys in the distance.
I couldn't have been more relieved to see the park entrance building in the distance, signaling the end of our 34 kilometer journey. The students were already on the bus, clearly ready to rest for the ride home. We didn't tarry too long and soon we were on our way back to Nairobi.
Of course, we were greeted with atrocious traffic that only Nairobi can garauntee, which put our arrival time ridiculously behind schedule. When the last teacher was dropped, we headed for home, not to go home and relax and hit the sack like we had planned, but instead to rush and get ready because we had friends anxiously waiting to hear about our adventure.
Sitting with them and recounting all of the little moments and stories brought fits of laughter and an incredible sense of accomplishment. When I was here last year, my ultimate goal for my return was to be able to organize a trip to Mount Kenya, and it is only because of the amazing support and donations we recieved form our family and friends that made it possible. I only wish all of you could have been there with us to witness the splendour of it for yourself. It wasn't something that was said outright or overly expressed, but rather it was the subtle, simple things and expressions that assured us what you all helped us do was change these students lives. Together, we all allowed them to open their minds to a whole new world that has always been in their backyard. As with most gift giving, I truly feel like I was blessed the most out of the trip. This is something that I personally will never forget and will always look back on as one of the best things I've ever done. Thank you from the bottom of my heart to everyone who has supported us, in every way possible. This trip meant the world to me, and I know it is something that the students will cherish forever.
-Laurel
Ok, so where did I leave off? Oh yes, night time on Mount Kenya. Around 5 o clock, we heard quite a bit of ruckus coming from the students' rooms, so Eric was given the job to inform them that it was only 5 am and that we would all be sleeping for another hour and half. That seemed to work ( they're not used to us wazungu being stern with them). When we woke up, the second time, Eric and I were delighted to see frost on the ground! Not because I'm a fan of the frigid conditions required to produce the layer of ice, but because the students would be able to witness such a phenomenon for the first time. They ask us alot of questions about snow ( more on that in a moment), so we were really excited to be able to show them the closest thing we can find to snow in Kenya. The sunrise over the valleys and towns below us was breathtaking, but unfortunately, no picture could accurately capture the moment. After a good breakfast, we bundled up and headed out for the first 8 km of our 25 scheduled for the day. We were able to leave our backpacks at the camp for this leg since we would be returning for lunch and the climb was significantly harder than the previous day. Not that you'd be able to tell by the pace of the students. While they bounded up the mountain, I struggled to put one foot in front of the other. Bruce actually told me that his legs felt stronger!
After a little ways, a good chunk of the students slowed down significantly while Musumba, Edwine, and a few boys took off without us. Eric and I decided to play with the frost and encouraged the students to pick it up and play with it. They were hesitant at first, and they kept exclaiming how cold it was, but after a bit, they were intrigued by the icicles. Eric decided it would be a good idea to show them how to make a "snowball" with chunks of icicles and thus commenced a one sided snowball fight, with Eric scooping up piles of ice and throwing them at students at random. That sure got them running up the mountain! The students also got curious with the layers of ice that were residing on top of the streams and pools of water. Before long, every sheet of ice was picked up by a student and either used as a cooling system by placing it on top of their heads, or by licking it like a popsicle. We also had the opportunity to talk to a group of students about Winter and the US. They are so interested to learn about how people survive in cold temperatures and ask alot of questions about it. They were really curious about snowplows, so Eric and I did our best to explain to them what they were and how they worked. I really enjoy talking about the States, and home, so I welcomed all of the questions. Talking about it makes it easier to be gone, especially around this time of year.
After almost three hours and a hundred stops, we were at the bottom of the ridge that would be our final destination. The high peaks of Mount Kenya in the distance were the only things keeping me going forward. A quick 20 minute uphill climb and we were there! We were greeted by students sitting at the top, with their legs dangling off of the rock that led to the deep valley below us. The view was absolutely amazing! The valley continued forever, then another ridge jutted up, being the only thing seperating the valley and the highest points of the mountain. At 4000 feet, the air is so fresh, so clean, and you really realize how small we are in the grand scheme of things. As soon as we reached our final stop, clouds started rolling over the mountain, hiding the peaks from us. We quickly assembled each student in front of the peaks, so we could have a picture of each of them documenting their accomplishment. After some group photos, we had to start the descend so we could stay on schedule. The way down went quick, although I beg to differ when people say that going down is easier then going up. I must be getting old, because my knees were really upset with me every step I took. We reached the campsite and had a great lunch of soup and sandwiches, and then continued our final 9km trek down to the park entrance. I was more than okay to be bringing up the rear of the group, as the students literally ran down the mountain. I would use the age excuse again to justify my snail pace, but the teachers were putting us to shame as well. Oh well. We had an absolute gorgeous hiking afternoon, sun shining, with a cool breeze keeping us from overheating. I could never get enough of the beautiful trail that took us through the rich forest of the mountain and offered wonderful views of the hills and valleys in the distance.
I couldn't have been more relieved to see the park entrance building in the distance, signaling the end of our 34 kilometer journey. The students were already on the bus, clearly ready to rest for the ride home. We didn't tarry too long and soon we were on our way back to Nairobi.
Of course, we were greeted with atrocious traffic that only Nairobi can garauntee, which put our arrival time ridiculously behind schedule. When the last teacher was dropped, we headed for home, not to go home and relax and hit the sack like we had planned, but instead to rush and get ready because we had friends anxiously waiting to hear about our adventure.
Sitting with them and recounting all of the little moments and stories brought fits of laughter and an incredible sense of accomplishment. When I was here last year, my ultimate goal for my return was to be able to organize a trip to Mount Kenya, and it is only because of the amazing support and donations we recieved form our family and friends that made it possible. I only wish all of you could have been there with us to witness the splendour of it for yourself. It wasn't something that was said outright or overly expressed, but rather it was the subtle, simple things and expressions that assured us what you all helped us do was change these students lives. Together, we all allowed them to open their minds to a whole new world that has always been in their backyard. As with most gift giving, I truly feel like I was blessed the most out of the trip. This is something that I personally will never forget and will always look back on as one of the best things I've ever done. Thank you from the bottom of my heart to everyone who has supported us, in every way possible. This trip meant the world to me, and I know it is something that the students will cherish forever.
-Laurel
Monday, December 6, 2010
Mount Kenya Day One
This past weekend was definitely a highlight of our time here in Kenya. When I think back to the initial talk Laurel and I had about coming to Kenya our main goal was to be able to take some of Hamomi’s students to on a trip to Mt. Kenya. We knew even before we officially decided to come here that this would be our foremost aim. However, before I write about the trip I would like to take this time to once again thank those of you who made this once in a lifetime adventure possible it was truly amazing!!!
On Friday morning Laurel and I were picked up by a very comfortable 25 passenger van/bus and we headed to Hamomi excited to meet the standard 8 students, Edwin, and Musumba. When we arrived at school all of the students were crowded around with a number of teachers, all with big grins on their faces, excited for the luxury ride we were about take. I collected some first aid supplies, and after making sure everyone had packed the warm clothes they needed and the hats, gloves and socks we had given them, we all boarded the bus and were off. The students were bouncing off the walls with excitement, or maybe it was just the terrible Kenyan roads. After a stop at the Equator and a lunch break at a nyama choma (grilled meat) place, our long drive finally came to a close. The last hour of the trip was spent gazing at the at the mountain we were about to climb. Mt. Kenya, like all of the Rift Valley has a very interesting geological history. It was once a strata-volcano and is shaped like a gargantuan dome with huge peaks shooting out of the center from its eruption ages ago. At 17,058 feet, the peaks are the only place in the country that sees snow and it covers them year round.
We finally arrived at our destination, Sirimon Gate, and were immediately greeted by a troupe of baboons. It was getting to be later in the afternoon, so Laurel and I were getting a bit anxious at the prospect of getting to camp after dark. So, we immediately headed out for our 9km hike to Old Moses Camp, which is at an elevation of just under 11,000ft. I explained to the students a number of times that the air is less dense at this altitude and that hiking slowly and drinking plenty of water was the best way to cope with the elevation. However, they preferred to run up the trail until exhaustion set in, then wait for Laurel and I to catch up before repeating the process again.
We finally made it to our camp just before sundown where it was a bit chilly. The students and teachers promptly put on all of the clothes they brought. When advised them to take off any under layers that were damp from sweat then to bundle up, one of the students asked me how and why I was only wearing a t-shirt. Laurel and I laughed and told them the temperature was similar to an average fall day for us and that I was quite used to it. As it got darker outside the temperature continued to drop and settled in the mid-30s. When it was apparent the students and teachers were uncomfortably chilled, we decided it was definitely time for some of my NOLS games and some of Laurel’s STLF games. We taught the kids a dancing game, human knot, a game where you stand front to back in a circle and all try to sit on each others laps at the same time, but the absolute favorite was Big Booty (a chanting rhythm game). I’m not sure if the movement warmed up the students and teachers or if their minds were just taken off the cold, but the hour before dinner was an absolute blast and even though these were the coldest temperature the students and teachers had ever experienced nobody seemed chilled at all.
After enjoying a delicious and plentiful dinner, I began telling everyone about yetis. I started out the story telling them about the size of these creatures, a few of their commonly know traits and told them that these creatures are reported to live at high elevations, similar to where we were camped. I then explained that these beasts were known to help stranded hikers who respected the mountains they hiked. It was at this time I decided to stray a bit from the myths I’ve heard and make my own. At one point in that days hike I scolded a few of the boys for throwing stones at some birds. So, I added that although these creatures are usually good to hikers, those who disrespect wildlife and the mountains they climb have been know to be taken by yetis in the night and never seen again. The boys immediately decided that it was too cold to sleep alone and they would be sleeping 3 to a bed.
After the story and a cup of tea, everyone was ready for bed. The only problem was no one was quite sure what to think of sleeping bags. After demonstrating how to get into one, Musumba asked "so its like a giant sock?" "Yeah, pretty much." we responded. Laurel and I zipped up the sleeping bags for everyone, including the teachers and everyone, bundled from head to toe in anticipation for a cold night, soon fell asleep.
Day Two tomorrow!
- Eric
On Friday morning Laurel and I were picked up by a very comfortable 25 passenger van/bus and we headed to Hamomi excited to meet the standard 8 students, Edwin, and Musumba. When we arrived at school all of the students were crowded around with a number of teachers, all with big grins on their faces, excited for the luxury ride we were about take. I collected some first aid supplies, and after making sure everyone had packed the warm clothes they needed and the hats, gloves and socks we had given them, we all boarded the bus and were off. The students were bouncing off the walls with excitement, or maybe it was just the terrible Kenyan roads. After a stop at the Equator and a lunch break at a nyama choma (grilled meat) place, our long drive finally came to a close. The last hour of the trip was spent gazing at the at the mountain we were about to climb. Mt. Kenya, like all of the Rift Valley has a very interesting geological history. It was once a strata-volcano and is shaped like a gargantuan dome with huge peaks shooting out of the center from its eruption ages ago. At 17,058 feet, the peaks are the only place in the country that sees snow and it covers them year round.
We finally arrived at our destination, Sirimon Gate, and were immediately greeted by a troupe of baboons. It was getting to be later in the afternoon, so Laurel and I were getting a bit anxious at the prospect of getting to camp after dark. So, we immediately headed out for our 9km hike to Old Moses Camp, which is at an elevation of just under 11,000ft. I explained to the students a number of times that the air is less dense at this altitude and that hiking slowly and drinking plenty of water was the best way to cope with the elevation. However, they preferred to run up the trail until exhaustion set in, then wait for Laurel and I to catch up before repeating the process again.
We finally made it to our camp just before sundown where it was a bit chilly. The students and teachers promptly put on all of the clothes they brought. When advised them to take off any under layers that were damp from sweat then to bundle up, one of the students asked me how and why I was only wearing a t-shirt. Laurel and I laughed and told them the temperature was similar to an average fall day for us and that I was quite used to it. As it got darker outside the temperature continued to drop and settled in the mid-30s. When it was apparent the students and teachers were uncomfortably chilled, we decided it was definitely time for some of my NOLS games and some of Laurel’s STLF games. We taught the kids a dancing game, human knot, a game where you stand front to back in a circle and all try to sit on each others laps at the same time, but the absolute favorite was Big Booty (a chanting rhythm game). I’m not sure if the movement warmed up the students and teachers or if their minds were just taken off the cold, but the hour before dinner was an absolute blast and even though these were the coldest temperature the students and teachers had ever experienced nobody seemed chilled at all.
After enjoying a delicious and plentiful dinner, I began telling everyone about yetis. I started out the story telling them about the size of these creatures, a few of their commonly know traits and told them that these creatures are reported to live at high elevations, similar to where we were camped. I then explained that these beasts were known to help stranded hikers who respected the mountains they hiked. It was at this time I decided to stray a bit from the myths I’ve heard and make my own. At one point in that days hike I scolded a few of the boys for throwing stones at some birds. So, I added that although these creatures are usually good to hikers, those who disrespect wildlife and the mountains they climb have been know to be taken by yetis in the night and never seen again. The boys immediately decided that it was too cold to sleep alone and they would be sleeping 3 to a bed.
After the story and a cup of tea, everyone was ready for bed. The only problem was no one was quite sure what to think of sleeping bags. After demonstrating how to get into one, Musumba asked "so its like a giant sock?" "Yeah, pretty much." we responded. Laurel and I zipped up the sleeping bags for everyone, including the teachers and everyone, bundled from head to toe in anticipation for a cold night, soon fell asleep.
Day Two tomorrow!
- Eric
Our Mount Kenya Trip: Part One
Since there is way too much detail and far too many stories to cram into one post, Eric and I will each write from our own perspective about the trip. We apologize if there is any overlap as we wrote ours independently. Enjoy! Part Two will be here tomorrow!
There are few times in our lives where a daydream actually becomes a reality, when a passing wish comes to fruition, or when a wonderful aspiration comes true. Last Friday, that happened to me. On a safari bus with 12 8th graders, two teachers, and a safari guide, Eric and I left Nairobi to embark on a once in a lifetime hike to Mt. Kenya, making my ultimate mission to Kenya a success and forever changing the lives of the students and teachers we brought with us. It was not easy, the fundraising, the planning, and especially the week leading up to the trip. I'll spare you the details but it wasn't until the eleventh hour ( and by that I mean 3 o clock in the afternoon on Thursday, when the trip was slated to begin at 7:30 in the morning on Friday) that we knew we were actually able to go on the trip. It was a moment of intense anxiety and borderline panic as our trip hung in the balance. When the deposit was paid and details confirmed, it was a time of elation and pure excitement, and I could hardly believe it was actually about to happen. After so much anticipation and excitement, months of talking about it, planning it, and researching it with the students at the cyber cafe, it was surreal to be packing our bags Thursday night.
Friday morning came around and we were ecstatic to see our van approach. It was a spacious 25 seater van and we knew the students were going to be over the moon about our mode of transportation. As we maneuvered the poor excuse for roads through Kangemi, and turned up Hamomi's road, we saw the students anxiously waiting outside the school, all decked out in their uniforms and new hats and gloves we had given them for the trip. Their eyes were wide as we stopped in front of them and I got out to announce that this was our van. They boarded the bus and started exclaiming how wonderful it was and how much it resembled a palace! I knew that if they were this excited about the bus, then they were in for some amazing treats along the way. The drive began in typical fashion, sitting in one hour of traffic for no apparent reason, but time flew by and before we knew it we were on our way!
Now, no school trip is complete without a couple things, one being a sick child and the other being some school boy mischief, and ours was no exception. It was not long into the trip before it was announced form the back that one of the boys was throwing up. It shouldn't have been surprising, as these kids rarely, if ever, ride in cars, and when they do, it's usually a short ride into town or around the suburbs of Nairobi. Luckily, he had made it out the window, and while it decorated the outside of the van, the inside was puke-free. We made sure he was okay and told him to face forward and take more water. The kids spent most of the time chit chatting in Swahili, so Eric and I weren't a big part of their conversation, until it was time to pass out the Oreos that Hanna had sent us. All 4 packages of them! They were a big hit and were used as forms of persuasion to get them to continue on the trail when they got weak, but we'll get to that. They loved the cookies and were completely amazed as we explained to them that we dunked them in cold milk-- cold anything here is rare, but milk is only served mixed with tea, so the thought of cold milk was just ridiculous! The bus ride continued when we made a surprise stop at the equator! I didn't even know about this part of the trip, but our guide said that they might as well learn something along the way.
The equator was awesome! I think Eric and I were more entranced than the students as a local demonstrated the Coriolis effect and how water rotates in opposite directions when you move North or South from the equator. But, it doesn't stop there. When we stood directly at the equator, the water stood still! Maybe the students had checked out of school mode after their stressful national exams, or maybe they just don't show excitement the way I do, but I was like a little school girl in science class witnessing an awesome experiment as the demonstration took place. The students took a more laid back approach. Either way, it was really cool. The students understood the Coriolis effect, as they had learned in school, but they still had some good questions, like, " So which way does the water move when you go East or West?"
After our science dose for the day, we headed to Nyayuki town for lunch, and a much anticipated one at that. We were all super excited when we arrived at a restaurant called Nyama Village, which only meant one thing: NYAMA CHOMA. I don't know if Eric and I have talked about nyama choma in detail, but it is delicious. The direct translation is burnt meat, but it's really just meat roasted over an open fire. The students were absolutely thrilled to be able to spoil themselves with nyama and chips. They ate to their hearts content and we boarded the bus, anxious to get to the park and start the hike.
I must admit, I was getting really anxious to get there, as I knew we had a few hours of hiking in front of us and I wanted to make sure we could take our time and get to our camp in plenty of time before dark. I had many urges to ask our guide how much longer and to remind him of the pending darkness, but I've learned to be patient and just let things happen here.
We started at Sirimon gate, which is 2650 meters in altitude. it is absolutely beautiful, completely removed from everything, the fresh air overwhelming, and the views just as incredible. As soon as we stepped off the bus, Eric and I took a deep breath of mountain air and looked around to see the students reactions. We doubled over in laughter at the sight before us. The students and teachers stepped off the bus, shivered uncontrollably, and immediately starting putting their winter layers on. Hats, scarves, sweatshirts, and winter jackets. And it was 60 degrees, at least!! Eric and I knew they would have a hard time adjusting to the weather as we got higher up, but we figured they'd at least wait until we reached base camp! We assured them that after a little walking, they would warm up, but they insisted that they were freezing and would never warm up! Fast forward five minutes, and we had to make pitstop for all of them to shed their layers because they were overheating! Go figure!
Baboons greeted us at the entrance, and after the announcement that elephants and buffalo live in the forests along the trail, Peter announced that he would be walking in the middle of the group so that the baboons would not disturb him! We had a 9 kilometer hike, mostly uphill, so Eric and I took it in stride and tried to hydrate and take it slow, as the guide instructed everyone to do time and time again. However, some of the boys had a different approach. They would sprint up the trail for some time, then, by the time Eric and I reached them, they would be laying on their backs, playing dead.I would tell them that if they walked slowly, they wouldn't feel the need to sprawl out on the ground to regain their strength, but after some water and the occasional Oreo, they would repeat their sequence. It's really a wonder they didn't all have severe altitude sickness! The trail was longer, and steeper, than I think any of us expected, and we were getting pretty fatigued as we increased our altitude. The students took turns carrying each others backpacks, and stopped often for a much needed breather. But, they were troopers, and before long,we saw the camp in the distance, just atop the hill. As we ascended the hill and reached the camp, we realized how cold 3300 meters is at sundown. Eric and I were surprised to see our breath and experience the coldest weather we've been in since last winter. We warmed up in the shed with some tea and popcorn, although I don't think the porters could boil water fast enough to keep the students heated.
We had time to kill between tea and dinner, and it was clear that if we didn't do something to keep the students minds off of the cold, this trip would take a turn for the worst, as they were experiencing the coldest weather they had ever been in. While Eric and I coaxed them outside to witness the most beautiful, star filled sky I have ever seen, they were interested for about as long as they could stand the briskness of the night-- which was about two minutes. I don't blame them because it was decidedly cold out, but I think I could've stared at that sky all night. It's amazing how close the stars feel when you're up so high and for me, I always feel like I'm that much closer to heaven.
To distract the student from the cold, Eric took charge and started showing them some crazy foot dance he learned while on his NOLS course. The students were interested at first, but it took a good amount of coordination, so after a bit, they just decided to start free styling their dance moves. When that got old, Eric and I had them break into groups to try the human knot-- the activity where you all stand in a circle and take two different people hands and then have to work together to untangle yourselves until you're back into a circle. Well, it's no wonder it was a challenge, as effective communication is something that is lacking countrywide, and the students were more concerned with yanking away from each other and hollering over the other about which strategy they should take, and mine and Eric's persistent encouragement and reminders that the key is to work together fell on deaf ears. Finally, we took a group of six, me and Eric included, and showed how it was done. Next, we resorted to a game that was a focal point of my STLF trips, whose roots go back to my high school days in Student Council! The game is called Big Booty, and while I won't go into detail because it doesn't really make sense trying to explain it over a blog post, it's basically a rhythm game that requires little skill but is super catchy. They loved it and we had almost all of them, teachers included, slapping their hands on their thighs, singing along, and trying their best to catch on. However, they didn't care too much about actually being good at the game, but rather were delighted every time someone messed up, causing fits of laughter and a total disbursement of our circle. Time flew and before we knew it dinner was on the table.
The porters did a great job cooking, and we indulged in a wonderful vegetable stew, goat stew, and cooked greens, served with rice. The food was a perfect cold weather remedy, and afterwards, it didn't take long for eyelids to droop, signaling time for bed. Bedtime was actually a subject of stress for the students, as they were convinced they were going to freeze during the night. The boys even insisted they must sleep together to keep warm. They were also very apprehensive about the sleeping bags, which they had never seen nor used.
When it came time to show Musumba and Edwine how to use the sleeping bag, thus commenced the funniest three minutes of my life. Here I was, zipping in a 38 year old Director of a school into a sleeping bag that he referred to as a giant sock! I had to have him scooch over so I could zip it and helped tuck him in. Then, it was Eric's turn to do the same for Edwine, who kept declaring, " I'm not fitting, I'm not fitting! It has filled already!" Eric gently told him to scooch down and pull the other side of the sleeping bag over so he could zip and button him in. It was one of those moments that you wish you could capture on video because it would make for the perfect pick me up on any rainy day. We settled in for the night, but it wasn't too long before I heard, "Erric, Erric. Help me with the torch". The torch being the little flashlight on our phone. Musumba needed to use the bathroom in the middle of the night, so Eric escorted him with the torch, then helped him back into the bag, only to repeat this same situation with Edwine about 15 minutes later, and again throughout the night. It wasn't the most sleep filled night for Eric, but certainly a hilarious one!
As I settled into my sleeping bag, I couldn't help but boast a grin on my face, one filled with pride, content, and overall satisfaction. We could've left that night and I still would've been thrilled with the trip results, as having the students out of their homes, wtinessing one of the most beautiful and majestic parts of their country for the first time, was one of the most fulfilling days of my life.
- LaureL
There are few times in our lives where a daydream actually becomes a reality, when a passing wish comes to fruition, or when a wonderful aspiration comes true. Last Friday, that happened to me. On a safari bus with 12 8th graders, two teachers, and a safari guide, Eric and I left Nairobi to embark on a once in a lifetime hike to Mt. Kenya, making my ultimate mission to Kenya a success and forever changing the lives of the students and teachers we brought with us. It was not easy, the fundraising, the planning, and especially the week leading up to the trip. I'll spare you the details but it wasn't until the eleventh hour ( and by that I mean 3 o clock in the afternoon on Thursday, when the trip was slated to begin at 7:30 in the morning on Friday) that we knew we were actually able to go on the trip. It was a moment of intense anxiety and borderline panic as our trip hung in the balance. When the deposit was paid and details confirmed, it was a time of elation and pure excitement, and I could hardly believe it was actually about to happen. After so much anticipation and excitement, months of talking about it, planning it, and researching it with the students at the cyber cafe, it was surreal to be packing our bags Thursday night.
Friday morning came around and we were ecstatic to see our van approach. It was a spacious 25 seater van and we knew the students were going to be over the moon about our mode of transportation. As we maneuvered the poor excuse for roads through Kangemi, and turned up Hamomi's road, we saw the students anxiously waiting outside the school, all decked out in their uniforms and new hats and gloves we had given them for the trip. Their eyes were wide as we stopped in front of them and I got out to announce that this was our van. They boarded the bus and started exclaiming how wonderful it was and how much it resembled a palace! I knew that if they were this excited about the bus, then they were in for some amazing treats along the way. The drive began in typical fashion, sitting in one hour of traffic for no apparent reason, but time flew by and before we knew it we were on our way!
Now, no school trip is complete without a couple things, one being a sick child and the other being some school boy mischief, and ours was no exception. It was not long into the trip before it was announced form the back that one of the boys was throwing up. It shouldn't have been surprising, as these kids rarely, if ever, ride in cars, and when they do, it's usually a short ride into town or around the suburbs of Nairobi. Luckily, he had made it out the window, and while it decorated the outside of the van, the inside was puke-free. We made sure he was okay and told him to face forward and take more water. The kids spent most of the time chit chatting in Swahili, so Eric and I weren't a big part of their conversation, until it was time to pass out the Oreos that Hanna had sent us. All 4 packages of them! They were a big hit and were used as forms of persuasion to get them to continue on the trail when they got weak, but we'll get to that. They loved the cookies and were completely amazed as we explained to them that we dunked them in cold milk-- cold anything here is rare, but milk is only served mixed with tea, so the thought of cold milk was just ridiculous! The bus ride continued when we made a surprise stop at the equator! I didn't even know about this part of the trip, but our guide said that they might as well learn something along the way.
The equator was awesome! I think Eric and I were more entranced than the students as a local demonstrated the Coriolis effect and how water rotates in opposite directions when you move North or South from the equator. But, it doesn't stop there. When we stood directly at the equator, the water stood still! Maybe the students had checked out of school mode after their stressful national exams, or maybe they just don't show excitement the way I do, but I was like a little school girl in science class witnessing an awesome experiment as the demonstration took place. The students took a more laid back approach. Either way, it was really cool. The students understood the Coriolis effect, as they had learned in school, but they still had some good questions, like, " So which way does the water move when you go East or West?"
After our science dose for the day, we headed to Nyayuki town for lunch, and a much anticipated one at that. We were all super excited when we arrived at a restaurant called Nyama Village, which only meant one thing: NYAMA CHOMA. I don't know if Eric and I have talked about nyama choma in detail, but it is delicious. The direct translation is burnt meat, but it's really just meat roasted over an open fire. The students were absolutely thrilled to be able to spoil themselves with nyama and chips. They ate to their hearts content and we boarded the bus, anxious to get to the park and start the hike.
I must admit, I was getting really anxious to get there, as I knew we had a few hours of hiking in front of us and I wanted to make sure we could take our time and get to our camp in plenty of time before dark. I had many urges to ask our guide how much longer and to remind him of the pending darkness, but I've learned to be patient and just let things happen here.
We started at Sirimon gate, which is 2650 meters in altitude. it is absolutely beautiful, completely removed from everything, the fresh air overwhelming, and the views just as incredible. As soon as we stepped off the bus, Eric and I took a deep breath of mountain air and looked around to see the students reactions. We doubled over in laughter at the sight before us. The students and teachers stepped off the bus, shivered uncontrollably, and immediately starting putting their winter layers on. Hats, scarves, sweatshirts, and winter jackets. And it was 60 degrees, at least!! Eric and I knew they would have a hard time adjusting to the weather as we got higher up, but we figured they'd at least wait until we reached base camp! We assured them that after a little walking, they would warm up, but they insisted that they were freezing and would never warm up! Fast forward five minutes, and we had to make pitstop for all of them to shed their layers because they were overheating! Go figure!
We had time to kill between tea and dinner, and it was clear that if we didn't do something to keep the students minds off of the cold, this trip would take a turn for the worst, as they were experiencing the coldest weather they had ever been in. While Eric and I coaxed them outside to witness the most beautiful, star filled sky I have ever seen, they were interested for about as long as they could stand the briskness of the night-- which was about two minutes. I don't blame them because it was decidedly cold out, but I think I could've stared at that sky all night. It's amazing how close the stars feel when you're up so high and for me, I always feel like I'm that much closer to heaven.
To distract the student from the cold, Eric took charge and started showing them some crazy foot dance he learned while on his NOLS course. The students were interested at first, but it took a good amount of coordination, so after a bit, they just decided to start free styling their dance moves. When that got old, Eric and I had them break into groups to try the human knot-- the activity where you all stand in a circle and take two different people hands and then have to work together to untangle yourselves until you're back into a circle. Well, it's no wonder it was a challenge, as effective communication is something that is lacking countrywide, and the students were more concerned with yanking away from each other and hollering over the other about which strategy they should take, and mine and Eric's persistent encouragement and reminders that the key is to work together fell on deaf ears. Finally, we took a group of six, me and Eric included, and showed how it was done. Next, we resorted to a game that was a focal point of my STLF trips, whose roots go back to my high school days in Student Council! The game is called Big Booty, and while I won't go into detail because it doesn't really make sense trying to explain it over a blog post, it's basically a rhythm game that requires little skill but is super catchy. They loved it and we had almost all of them, teachers included, slapping their hands on their thighs, singing along, and trying their best to catch on. However, they didn't care too much about actually being good at the game, but rather were delighted every time someone messed up, causing fits of laughter and a total disbursement of our circle. Time flew and before we knew it dinner was on the table.
The porters did a great job cooking, and we indulged in a wonderful vegetable stew, goat stew, and cooked greens, served with rice. The food was a perfect cold weather remedy, and afterwards, it didn't take long for eyelids to droop, signaling time for bed. Bedtime was actually a subject of stress for the students, as they were convinced they were going to freeze during the night. The boys even insisted they must sleep together to keep warm. They were also very apprehensive about the sleeping bags, which they had never seen nor used.
When it came time to show Musumba and Edwine how to use the sleeping bag, thus commenced the funniest three minutes of my life. Here I was, zipping in a 38 year old Director of a school into a sleeping bag that he referred to as a giant sock! I had to have him scooch over so I could zip it and helped tuck him in. Then, it was Eric's turn to do the same for Edwine, who kept declaring, " I'm not fitting, I'm not fitting! It has filled already!" Eric gently told him to scooch down and pull the other side of the sleeping bag over so he could zip and button him in. It was one of those moments that you wish you could capture on video because it would make for the perfect pick me up on any rainy day. We settled in for the night, but it wasn't too long before I heard, "Erric, Erric. Help me with the torch". The torch being the little flashlight on our phone. Musumba needed to use the bathroom in the middle of the night, so Eric escorted him with the torch, then helped him back into the bag, only to repeat this same situation with Edwine about 15 minutes later, and again throughout the night. It wasn't the most sleep filled night for Eric, but certainly a hilarious one!
As I settled into my sleeping bag, I couldn't help but boast a grin on my face, one filled with pride, content, and overall satisfaction. We could've left that night and I still would've been thrilled with the trip results, as having the students out of their homes, wtinessing one of the most beautiful and majestic parts of their country for the first time, was one of the most fulfilling days of my life.
An International Thanksgiving!
Every couple tells the story of the first Thanksgiving they host together and more times than not there is at least some sort of disaster along the way. Well, we are proud to announce that while there were definitely ups and downs to our feast, the festive holiday was celebrated without a major glitch or charred turkey. Thanksgiving is both of our favorite holidays, and since we were celebrating it away from our family and friends, we decided that if we couldn't go home for Thanksgiving, we would bring the Thanksgiving holiday here to Kenya. We had been looking forward to planning Thanksgiving a good month before the day arrived. We had invited a number of guests and had a very traditional menu in mind. As Thanksgiving week approached, we went to the grocery store to price out food and to see if they had what we needed. Our biggest concern was the turkey. While Eric had originally set his hopes high on personally picking out a fresh turkey, and preparing it from the slaughtering to the basting, as Laurel and her friends had done the previous year, convenience won and we opted for the more traditional frozen turkey from one of the local butchers.
With our bird reserved and menu planned, our next order of business was something we put off until the last minute, making sure the oven worked. While Alice assured us it had worked when she first moved into the place, four years ago, she admitted it hadn't been touched in years. It wasn't until Monday night that we decided we needed to look into it. Much to our dismay, the electric oven was not hooked up and it was a little more complicated than just plugging it in. We informed Alice and she said she would call the electrician in the morning. Knowing how Kenyans work, or rather don't, on a time schedule, we reminded her in the morning of her promise to call someone and she delivered, having the electrician show up a quick hour after the call was placed. It was then we decided we needed to stay home to actually make sure the oven worked before the electrician left. It did, albeit without a temperature indicator or knob to adjust the temperature for that matter. We were confident in our ability to wing it and set out for the shopping. Thursday morning rolled around, and we bounded out bed, Eric for the first time ever, eager to start cooking. We almost had to find things to do before preparing the pies, which were slated to be put in the oven at 11:30. Now, we both claim our mothers make the best apple pie and when we emailed home for Thanksgiving recipes, we requested both. Naturally, having Laurel in the kitchen, this turned into a competition. She proposed having a taste contest, not telling our guests whose was whose and having them vote. Eric was quick to veto that idea, as it took away from the meaning of the day, and we decided to make both pies and serve one slice of each. Our mothers would be proud of how our crusts turned out and we were getting really excited about cooking our masterpieces when billows of smoke pouring out of the oven snapped us back to reality. We had been baking bread crumbs for the stuffing and were appalled to see smoke coming out of every crevasse possible. It smelled terrible. We cracked open every window in the house, disconnected the gas for the stove and crossed our fingers something wouldn't explode. We took the bread crumbs out, and having no plan B, put our pies in the oven and hoped for the best.
Thankfully, after awhile the smoke stopped and we concluded that it was the buildup of cobwebs and cockroaches between the oven and the stove burning off after so many years of not being used. Appetizing, we know. The pies cooked quickly, very quickly actually and as our crusts turned golden brown, we were dumbfounded that we may actually have pulled off one of the hardest parts of the meal.
While the bottom crusts were a little soggy, we didn't want to burn the top, so decided for first-timers, they were pretty good and set our priority to preparing the turkey. We had a 5 kg turkey and had no idea how to go about preparing it. Internet research didn't help either, as every article insisted on a meat thermometer, which we couldn't find anywhere. Knowing the basics, we cleaned the bird, spiced it, and stuffed the inside with some lemon, onion, and the stuffing. We read somewhere to put water at the bottom of the pan with some rosemary and thyme, so we did that, closed the bird up, and tossed it in the oven. We should mention we didn't have a traditional pan to put the turkey in, and instead had to use this ginormous pot that just barely fit in the oven. But, it had to do.
As the turkey cooked, Eric literally pulled up a chair in front of the oven, watching it as intently as a kid watching Saturday morning cartoons. I assured him watching it did not make the time go by faster, but he was so anxious to baste the thing to make sure it wasn't dry, not to mention we had no idea what temperature we were cooking the thing at.
Between basting the turkey and checking on it every five minutes, we started preparing all of our vegetable dishes, peeling carrots and potatoes and snapping green beans. Luckily, our friend Carmen came over to help and she was a master peeler. Eric and I were a little knife challenged when it came to peeling as we are spoiled with the convenience and apparently strictly American peeler. in no time everything was peeled, washed, cut, and ready to cook. Now we just had to wait for the turkey to be done to free up the oven. it is amazing how time flies and when we opened the oven after what felt like an hour, which in reality was three and half, the bird looked incredible and smelled amazing! "Should we take it out?", Laurel asked. " I don't know," Eric replied, "I never thought we'd get this far". Having no other ideas, we pulled it out and had Eric cut into it in an inconspicuous spot. We were elated to find that the meat was not only completely white all the way through, but was incredibly moist ( we obviously had to taste it immediately). It was almost too easy.
Setting that aside, we putzed around some more cooking, baking, and counting down the minutes until the guests arrived so we could dig into our prized turkey. Another thing we are immensely proud of about our meal was the homemade french fried onion rings to top the green bean casserole. Obviously, French fried onion rings is not one of the imported goods here, and we didn't plan ahead enough to have them sent to us ( not that they would've gotten to us in time even if we had), so we went about making our own. Alot of oil, flour, and onion induced tears later, they were a success!! Except that we only ended up with about half of what we made because, well, they smelled delicious and tasted like a bloomin' onion!!
Caitlin, our American friend, was our first guest, and kept us company in the kitchen while we scrambled to have everything done on time. Valeria came shortly after and it became apparent that everyone would want to hang out in the kitchen, which was not only not big enough, but also had too much going on to begin with. As Carmen, Sebastian, and Raul arrived, we shooed everyone out into the dining room. Our Kenyan friend Brian, who runs on Kenyan time consistently, frantically called and said he was on his way and we better not start without him ( we had warned him about showing up past the scheduled time)! Alice, the lady we are staying with, was also MIA, and after a quick call to her, it was obvious she was not going to be home anytime soon. But, the food was ready, we were starving, and the guests were waiting, so it was on with the show. Eric carved the turkey and Laurel set out the rest of the dishes, after a last minute rush to make the gravy and get everything out, as we had no idea where half the stuff in the kitchen was. Brian arrived and we were ready. Before we dug in, Eric explained the origin of the holiday and also requested that everyone go around the table and say one thing they were thankful for this year. This is a tradition that is done at the Edwards' Thanksgiving dinner and something that we really wanted to do. After everyone had finished and Eric prayed for the food, we served ourselves heaping plates and got ready to dig in....... And then the power went out! But, we didn't care in the least because we had finished all of our cooking, food was served, and we really didn't need to see to eat, because, well, Thanksgiving dinner is meant o be mixed together and eaten. The power stayed out for the majority of the meal, until Alice arrived and got the electrician to fix the problem. Turns out all of our cooking with the oven had blown a fuse or something... oops.
Alice was joined by our friend Simon, who also showed up a good hour and a half past dinner, so we put together plates for them while we were preparing the pies. Now, apple pie is best served with ice cream, but we decided to go for homemade whipped cream. Which is great, except once again, we were going without the modern convenience of an egg beater, so Laurel literally sat there and beat the cream for what seemed like hours as the guests watched in amusement. Finally, it started stiffening and we were once again amazed that it actually turned out, albeit it had way more powder sugar than necessary! The meal concluded with a piece of each pie, which we could barely finish because we were all so full. Now I understand why Thanksgiving is served in the afternoon, because having it for dinner, then trying to go to bed is a problem. Both of our stomachs hurt so bad from the richness of the food and the sheer quantity of it consumed, we were so thankful for our guests who helped us with dishes. Our Thanksgiving concluded around 11 o clock and we rolled to bed.
One of the funniest parts of the night was having our househelp, who is responsible for all of the cooking, taste our American food. We were really excited because we knew they were flavor combinations she had never tried before, and wanted to see her reaction to the meal. First, she tried the pasta salad. "Is it supposed to be served cold?", she asked with a facial expression that said it all. She also hated the green bean casserole and the honey glazed carrots we made. So basically, she like the mashed potatoes and the turkey, the two most basic dishes possible. Alice said it's because she comes straight from the village. Alice, on the other hand, loved every dish and asked when we were having Thanksgiving again. Everyone agreed the meal was delicious and that our holiday was a great success.
After everyone left, as we were washing dishes, we decided that it is alot more stressful to host Thanksgiving than we imagined. The cooking throughout the day when no one was around was fine, but as guests showed up and we were finishing cooking, things got a little hectic! But, it was well worth sharing Thanksgiving with a fellow American, Spaniard, French/Venezuelan, and Kenyans alike. We all agree that Thanksgiving, the meaning behind it, and the food, should be an international holiday.
I'd say that alone made our first thanksgiving a success.
-Laurel & Eric
Monday, November 15, 2010
One Year Ago
One year ago today, I found myself walking towards Hamomi, with no idea of what the next three weeks, and subsequent year would bring my way. I had barely put my suitcase down after my return trip to Nairobi from Embu, where I abandoned my lackluster internship, when I got the call from Hannah, a volunteer at Hamomi giving me directions to the school. I was unfamiliar with the area, but confident in my navigation skills, and very comfortable with maneuvering around town, so I headed out, with high hopes and realistic expectations. Having been directed to make sure I took a specific route, I did so, and was soon underway, slightly tapping my foot along to the deafening beat that was booming from the matatu sub woofer. Soon, I began to notice that we had exchanged a paved road for a dirt one, and the multi level apartment buildings for tin shacks, and knew we must be getting close. But, as I waited for the matatu to turn as Hannah mentioned, I got increasingly nervous as we headed straight, and knew I was about to be lost. I was even more panicked when the matatu stopped, emptied, and turned around. Having no other choice, I followed the crowd and found my self standing in the middle of Kawanware, unbeknownst to me, without the slightest idea of where to even begin. Now, I had walked through Kibera, the notorious slum of Nairobi, a few times, but every time had been with a group of people and a working knowledge of the nearest route out. I knew it was better not to panic and look lost, so I instinctively started walking back the way I came. With Hannah on the phone, I begged for directions, all the while trying not to talk too loudly and alert the gawking bystanders of my vulnerable situation. I came to an intersection and decided to turn the way I thought the matatu should have, hoping, praying, pleading that it was the right way. As I walked deeper and deeper into the slum, I was trying to look straight ahead while at the same time to take everything in. The noise coming from the competing stereos of the various stalls selling a mixture of vegetables, second hand clothes, and other random electronic parts. I breathed a sigh of relief as a white girl about my age walked towards me as I pointed out the obvious, “ You’re Hannah, right?”, to which she replied, “Well, who else would I be?”. Duh.
We spent the walk chatting about this and that and learning about each others backgrounds, but I honestly couldn’t tell you anything about that conversation today. I remember being slightly envious of Hannah, as she walked with confidence down the street, while I followed behind, with my bag in a death grip. As the walk continued, I also couldn’t help but notice how long it took to get there and wondered how I was ever going to find my own route there. We passed a nice big school, and as I got into my walking legs, we stopped abruptly at a tin wall, and she directed me in. We had arrived. I couldn’t have been more pleased, as I was secretly hoping for nothing more than tin shacks to work in. It was completely opposite of where I had come from, a beautiful, mahogany finished USAID office with wireless, and with no purpose for me. Hamomi was quite honestly, exactly what you would expect out of an internship in a slum of Africa. And I was delighted! I remember meeting Musumba and Raphael, and being particularly nervous as I explained to them what I was looking to get out of my time there, trying to sound very professional, as if I was on a job interview. “So, what do you want to do here?” The question caught me off guard, as I was expecting to be put to use filling in whatever holes they had, But, Hamomi isn’t like that. They wanted me to do what I thought would be best to contribute to the school. Fumbling over words and assuring them I could do anything, I happened to mention that I had a mini computer with me and was pretty tech savvy ( although I know I didn’t use that terminology), and pretty soon it was decided that I would be the resident computer teacher. As Hannah gave me a tour around, I remember walking into every classroom and being greeted with a standing audience respectfully greeting me and very excited to have me. I couldn’t tell you if I stayed for lunch that day, or if I even taught any classes, although I remember sitting in on an English class and marking student’s papers when they were finished with their assignment. It was a lot to take in, and to be honest, I didn’t know what to make of everything, except to conclude that I had made a very good decision in going there.
It’s hard for me to comprehend that I only spent three weeks there, because I feel like I was able to get quite a bit done and made such a connection with a few of the students, it feels like it had to have been longer. Looking back, I remember being so proud of the work I was doing and was only too happy to boast to others where I worked and what I did. It was so empowering to be a student interning at such an inspiring organization that gave me the freedom to contribute where I thought I could. I felt so valued. Who knew that a 10-inch computer and a working knowledge of it would lead me back here one year later? Who knew that I’d be able to not only introduce the internet to Hamomi students for the very first time, but would be able to equip them with email addresses that allowed me to keep in touch with them after I was gone? Who knew? I sure didn’t. For me, Hamomi started out as a way to get out of Embu and my assigned internship while still completing the requirements for my study abroad course. What it turned into was an experience so enriching, so lasting, and so meaningful, it brought me back here a year later, to continue the work I started. I can truly, honestly say, I didn’t expect to be back this soon, and with Eric, for an extended period of time. Looking back at what I thought my life would look like a year from then, I, well, I guess it really doesn’t matter what I thought I’d be doing or where I thought I’d be. Because I’m here, teaching 40 students a skill that will only help them integrate into the business world at a faster pace than many of their peers, equipping them with skills and knowledge that they can use to their advantage regardless of what education or career path they take. And, it all started with one little computer in one little cement walled, tin-roofed office. One year ago today, I embarked on a journey that would define the next year of my life, and longer. I can only imagine how this time around will shape this next year, and perhaps, years to come.
-Laurel
We spent the walk chatting about this and that and learning about each others backgrounds, but I honestly couldn’t tell you anything about that conversation today. I remember being slightly envious of Hannah, as she walked with confidence down the street, while I followed behind, with my bag in a death grip. As the walk continued, I also couldn’t help but notice how long it took to get there and wondered how I was ever going to find my own route there. We passed a nice big school, and as I got into my walking legs, we stopped abruptly at a tin wall, and she directed me in. We had arrived. I couldn’t have been more pleased, as I was secretly hoping for nothing more than tin shacks to work in. It was completely opposite of where I had come from, a beautiful, mahogany finished USAID office with wireless, and with no purpose for me. Hamomi was quite honestly, exactly what you would expect out of an internship in a slum of Africa. And I was delighted! I remember meeting Musumba and Raphael, and being particularly nervous as I explained to them what I was looking to get out of my time there, trying to sound very professional, as if I was on a job interview. “So, what do you want to do here?” The question caught me off guard, as I was expecting to be put to use filling in whatever holes they had, But, Hamomi isn’t like that. They wanted me to do what I thought would be best to contribute to the school. Fumbling over words and assuring them I could do anything, I happened to mention that I had a mini computer with me and was pretty tech savvy ( although I know I didn’t use that terminology), and pretty soon it was decided that I would be the resident computer teacher. As Hannah gave me a tour around, I remember walking into every classroom and being greeted with a standing audience respectfully greeting me and very excited to have me. I couldn’t tell you if I stayed for lunch that day, or if I even taught any classes, although I remember sitting in on an English class and marking student’s papers when they were finished with their assignment. It was a lot to take in, and to be honest, I didn’t know what to make of everything, except to conclude that I had made a very good decision in going there.
It’s hard for me to comprehend that I only spent three weeks there, because I feel like I was able to get quite a bit done and made such a connection with a few of the students, it feels like it had to have been longer. Looking back, I remember being so proud of the work I was doing and was only too happy to boast to others where I worked and what I did. It was so empowering to be a student interning at such an inspiring organization that gave me the freedom to contribute where I thought I could. I felt so valued. Who knew that a 10-inch computer and a working knowledge of it would lead me back here one year later? Who knew that I’d be able to not only introduce the internet to Hamomi students for the very first time, but would be able to equip them with email addresses that allowed me to keep in touch with them after I was gone? Who knew? I sure didn’t. For me, Hamomi started out as a way to get out of Embu and my assigned internship while still completing the requirements for my study abroad course. What it turned into was an experience so enriching, so lasting, and so meaningful, it brought me back here a year later, to continue the work I started. I can truly, honestly say, I didn’t expect to be back this soon, and with Eric, for an extended period of time. Looking back at what I thought my life would look like a year from then, I, well, I guess it really doesn’t matter what I thought I’d be doing or where I thought I’d be. Because I’m here, teaching 40 students a skill that will only help them integrate into the business world at a faster pace than many of their peers, equipping them with skills and knowledge that they can use to their advantage regardless of what education or career path they take. And, it all started with one little computer in one little cement walled, tin-roofed office. One year ago today, I embarked on a journey that would define the next year of my life, and longer. I can only imagine how this time around will shape this next year, and perhaps, years to come.
-Laurel
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Standard 8 Prayer Party
Prayer days are just one of the many Kenyan traditions we’ve had the opportunity to take part since we’ve been here. Prayer days are all day events that are dedicated to celebrating the students that are preparing to take the national exams that will determine the students’ education future. Two groups of students sit for these national exams, Standard 8, whose exams determine whether or not they can continue to high school, and the Form 4 students (seniors), whose marks determine what kind of college they can apply to. We should take the time to stop and explain how the exams are set up. The KCPE is the exam for standard 8 students and anyone looking to pursue a high school education must pass this exam. Technically passing is receiving 250 out of a possible 500, however, the better one scores, the more options they have for choosing what school they can attend. Any admission into a school can be bought, but only for those who can afford it. It is Hamomi’s policy that a student must receive marks of at least 300 out of 500 in order for them to be sponsored into secondary school While this is possible, it is a challenge and a goal the teachers and students alike have been preparing all year for. This year, Hamomi sent 12 students to the KCPE out of the total 746,000 students that sat for the exam nationwide. Contrary to what the name suggests, there isn’t actually that much praying. Instead, it is a time for the students, and all those who have supported them-- parents, guardians, teachers, etc-- to gather together and wish the candidates all the best. And then, of course, in Kenyan tradition, eat. And Boy do they eat! But, we’ll get to that part.
In preparation for tour Standard 8 Prayer Day, we were asked to prepare something to bring for the feast. We were told there would be around 30 people in attendance, the 12 students and their guardians, plus the director and teachers of the school. The rest of the school would not have classes that day, but rather would spend the day playing games, as the teachers would be tied up in the celebration and it seems rather unfair that the rest of the school be in formal classes while Standard 8 parties.
Knowing that the last year’s volunteers set the bar high by baking a plethora of delicious treats, we knew we had to bring our A game-- and bake something. Now, baking back home is a daunting enough task, but baking something here where all of the measurements are in different units, temperatures are different, and without a working knowledge of how to even use the cooking equipment here, we were intimidated to say the least. However, we drew inspiration from a treat that was in frequent supply throughout college for both of us and one that reminds us of home. Rice krispie treats it had to be!
We must take this time to apologize to Momma Reithel for bringing shame to the treat that is rice krispie treats as our execution was as poor as our planning, as you’ll soon see. We are very thankful the students had nothing to compare them to because we know full well that any American would’ve looked at what we made and would’ve denied that what was before them even resembled rice krispie treats-- or anything closely related!
On our high horses, we thought “ How hard can it be?” Some rice krispie cereal, marshmallows, butter, and voila! Easy enough…. Or so we thought.
We set out to the supermarket with our list and were very pleased to find an off brand rice kripsie cereal that would suffice. Our first run-in with trouble was picking out marshmallows, which are only sold in small packages with both white and pink mallows, the pink ones possessing an artificial strawberry flavor that is not very appealing Not knowing the proper ratios needed, we settled on one bag of mallows, reasoning that if we needed to add more, we could buy more the following day. Next, we contemplated between butter or margarine. Now, back home it would’ve been no question as to what our choice would’ve been and we would’ve bought the butter and been done with it. But here butter is ridiculously expensive, around $5 a pound-- no that is NOT an exaggeration-- and we did not bring that much cash with us, so we settled on the popular name brand of margarine and reasoned it would be similar enough.
With our supplies in hand, we arrived home just before sunset, closing the window of opportunity for leaving the house the rest of the night, and started mixing. First, one of the bags of rice krispie cereals seemed to have exploded inside the box and were a little stale. No biggie, they were all getting mixed together anyway. Next, we tried melting the margarine, somewhat unsuccessfully, as the margarine wouldn’t quite melt down the way butter would. We shrugged that off and went on to melt the white and strawberry mallows together. We soon realized we bought way too few mallows and melted way too much margarine and were now stuck with this margariney artifical strawberry/mallow glop that wouldn‘t stick together. Uh-oh. Not wanting to waste what we had made we stupidly mixed in the stale cereal anyway and decided to leave it until the next day when we would buy more mallows to even out the margarine covered cereal mess we had on our hands. Fast forward to the next day, we brought our concoction to Val‘s house, another volunteer, armed with more mallows and a bar of chocolate. reasoning that if all else failed we would cover them in chocolate, because, honestly, who doesn’t love chocolate covered anything?
To melt down the new mallows, we had to microwave our whole dish, which caused the rice krispies to become even more soggy and soft. We were doomed. But, we forged ahead and formed the gloop into rice krispie balls, then dipped the tops into a generous amount of chocolate. We shrugged, thinking that something is better than nothing, and well, they’re covered in chocolate!
The day of the prayer party was very festive, because it was not only the prayer day, but also our Spanish volunteer Carmen’s 28th birthday. She came with birthday flags and balloons that added a colorful touch to the classroom that was hosting the party. In true Kenyan fashion, the program that was supposed to start at 10 didn’t actually start until a good hour after that. We all crammed into one classroom and enjoyed sodas as the English teacher Edwin emceed the program. It was great to see all of the guardians come to celebrate and support their student, a majority of whom aren’t their biological children. Hamomi has helped numerous students find homes with guardians who have agreed to take them in around the local community. A majority of the program was everyone introducing themselves and saying a word of good luck to the students, followed by a few short speeches by the different departments and Raphael, the Executive Director of Hamomi.
Then, it was time for lunch. Two huge heaps of ugali, which can be best described by its consistency, which is a mix between overcooked sticky rice or very firmly stuck together grits, however, it does not boast any taste whatsoever. This treat was a nice interruption from the usual rice and beans the students are served for lunch everyday. The ugali was enjoyed with a great meat stew and a traditional pico de gallo like mix called cachumbari. We feasted to our hearts content until it came time for us to serve our treats. As we passed out the homemade delicious chocolate chip cookies and brownies Val and Carmen brought, we nervously passed around our less than stellar rice krispie treats. I wish we had a video that captured some of the mothers faces reacting to our treats, as they had never seen such a concoction. They just as nervously took the treats we brought and I’m sure their inner dialogue was just as apprehensive as ours was. We were relieved as we watched the students taste our treats and swallow it down. And, of course, I asked if they enjoyed our “failed” experiment in the kitchen! They did.
After lunch, the prayer officially started, which was conducted by one of the parents who is a devoted supporter of Hamomi who even runs our board meetings. He is a priest of some sort and did a wonderful job with the sermon. At least I’m pretty sure he did, as it was all in Swahili and we could not understand what exactly was going on, but we did our best to follow along and chime in with the rest of the participants whenever they were prompted to respond to the priest. He is a very animated speaker and we could tell he was speaking with much passion, encouraging the students to do their best and to assure them that they have the potential to get adequate marks to pass onto the next phase of their education. The afternoon was quickly escaping us, so with a final bid of good luck, we departed towards home.
Enjoy the pictures by clicking this link! There will be more added this weekend!
In preparation for tour Standard 8 Prayer Day, we were asked to prepare something to bring for the feast. We were told there would be around 30 people in attendance, the 12 students and their guardians, plus the director and teachers of the school. The rest of the school would not have classes that day, but rather would spend the day playing games, as the teachers would be tied up in the celebration and it seems rather unfair that the rest of the school be in formal classes while Standard 8 parties.
Knowing that the last year’s volunteers set the bar high by baking a plethora of delicious treats, we knew we had to bring our A game-- and bake something. Now, baking back home is a daunting enough task, but baking something here where all of the measurements are in different units, temperatures are different, and without a working knowledge of how to even use the cooking equipment here, we were intimidated to say the least. However, we drew inspiration from a treat that was in frequent supply throughout college for both of us and one that reminds us of home. Rice krispie treats it had to be!
We must take this time to apologize to Momma Reithel for bringing shame to the treat that is rice krispie treats as our execution was as poor as our planning, as you’ll soon see. We are very thankful the students had nothing to compare them to because we know full well that any American would’ve looked at what we made and would’ve denied that what was before them even resembled rice krispie treats-- or anything closely related!
On our high horses, we thought “ How hard can it be?” Some rice krispie cereal, marshmallows, butter, and voila! Easy enough…. Or so we thought.
We set out to the supermarket with our list and were very pleased to find an off brand rice kripsie cereal that would suffice. Our first run-in with trouble was picking out marshmallows, which are only sold in small packages with both white and pink mallows, the pink ones possessing an artificial strawberry flavor that is not very appealing Not knowing the proper ratios needed, we settled on one bag of mallows, reasoning that if we needed to add more, we could buy more the following day. Next, we contemplated between butter or margarine. Now, back home it would’ve been no question as to what our choice would’ve been and we would’ve bought the butter and been done with it. But here butter is ridiculously expensive, around $5 a pound-- no that is NOT an exaggeration-- and we did not bring that much cash with us, so we settled on the popular name brand of margarine and reasoned it would be similar enough.
With our supplies in hand, we arrived home just before sunset, closing the window of opportunity for leaving the house the rest of the night, and started mixing. First, one of the bags of rice krispie cereals seemed to have exploded inside the box and were a little stale. No biggie, they were all getting mixed together anyway. Next, we tried melting the margarine, somewhat unsuccessfully, as the margarine wouldn’t quite melt down the way butter would. We shrugged that off and went on to melt the white and strawberry mallows together. We soon realized we bought way too few mallows and melted way too much margarine and were now stuck with this margariney artifical strawberry/mallow glop that wouldn‘t stick together. Uh-oh. Not wanting to waste what we had made we stupidly mixed in the stale cereal anyway and decided to leave it until the next day when we would buy more mallows to even out the margarine covered cereal mess we had on our hands. Fast forward to the next day, we brought our concoction to Val‘s house, another volunteer, armed with more mallows and a bar of chocolate. reasoning that if all else failed we would cover them in chocolate, because, honestly, who doesn’t love chocolate covered anything?
To melt down the new mallows, we had to microwave our whole dish, which caused the rice krispies to become even more soggy and soft. We were doomed. But, we forged ahead and formed the gloop into rice krispie balls, then dipped the tops into a generous amount of chocolate. We shrugged, thinking that something is better than nothing, and well, they’re covered in chocolate!
The day of the prayer party was very festive, because it was not only the prayer day, but also our Spanish volunteer Carmen’s 28th birthday. She came with birthday flags and balloons that added a colorful touch to the classroom that was hosting the party. In true Kenyan fashion, the program that was supposed to start at 10 didn’t actually start until a good hour after that. We all crammed into one classroom and enjoyed sodas as the English teacher Edwin emceed the program. It was great to see all of the guardians come to celebrate and support their student, a majority of whom aren’t their biological children. Hamomi has helped numerous students find homes with guardians who have agreed to take them in around the local community. A majority of the program was everyone introducing themselves and saying a word of good luck to the students, followed by a few short speeches by the different departments and Raphael, the Executive Director of Hamomi.
Then, it was time for lunch. Two huge heaps of ugali, which can be best described by its consistency, which is a mix between overcooked sticky rice or very firmly stuck together grits, however, it does not boast any taste whatsoever. This treat was a nice interruption from the usual rice and beans the students are served for lunch everyday. The ugali was enjoyed with a great meat stew and a traditional pico de gallo like mix called cachumbari. We feasted to our hearts content until it came time for us to serve our treats. As we passed out the homemade delicious chocolate chip cookies and brownies Val and Carmen brought, we nervously passed around our less than stellar rice krispie treats. I wish we had a video that captured some of the mothers faces reacting to our treats, as they had never seen such a concoction. They just as nervously took the treats we brought and I’m sure their inner dialogue was just as apprehensive as ours was. We were relieved as we watched the students taste our treats and swallow it down. And, of course, I asked if they enjoyed our “failed” experiment in the kitchen! They did.
After lunch, the prayer officially started, which was conducted by one of the parents who is a devoted supporter of Hamomi who even runs our board meetings. He is a priest of some sort and did a wonderful job with the sermon. At least I’m pretty sure he did, as it was all in Swahili and we could not understand what exactly was going on, but we did our best to follow along and chime in with the rest of the participants whenever they were prompted to respond to the priest. He is a very animated speaker and we could tell he was speaking with much passion, encouraging the students to do their best and to assure them that they have the potential to get adequate marks to pass onto the next phase of their education. The afternoon was quickly escaping us, so with a final bid of good luck, we departed towards home.
Enjoy the pictures by clicking this link! There will be more added this weekend!
Global Cuisine
A pleasant surprise that we’ve had the pleasure of experiencing here is volunteering with people from all over the world. When we first arrived, we expected to be the only volunteers, but instead have been accompanied by Valeria, who is a French Venezuelan here for two months, and Carmen, a Spanish who is here for a year accompanying her boyfriend as he is on a year long assignment with the Spanish embassy. Lacking world traveling experience, I love interacting with these girls and learning more about where they come from. And, it comes in handy that I’ve studied Spanish, so can understand them pretty well when they speak to each other in their native language, although I have not yet mustered up the confidence to speak back. We all spend our days together, which include long walks and ample time to get to know each other and thus have become great friends. One of the best parts about our newfound friendship is the global cuisine we have enjoyed together. It started out as Valeria inviting us over to the house she’s staying in, that of her cousin and his wife who both work for the World Bank, to cook lunch. This house is incredible, and Valeria has spoiled us by having us over multiples times to do laundry in the machine-- a luxury here-- and use the free wireless. Not to mention, they have an awesome dog with whom we get our pet fixes, as we are saddened that we have to walk past the adorable slum dogs everyday not able to pet them. Anyway, back to lunch.
We decided to make a tortilla-- not the American or Mexican version of a tortilla, but the Spanish kind, which is basically a quiche without the crust. We decided to cook it over at Carmen apartment, as she is the resident Spaniard and she would know how to cook it best. It was delightful! A thick slice of potatoes and onions held together with scrambled egg-- a wonderful reprieve from the somewhat monotonous rice and beans we eat at Hamomi when we stay for lunch. After our first successful food experiment it was time for Valeria to show us some of her heritage by making ratatouille from France and platanos from Venezuela. Now, ratatouille is pretty well known, but the platanos are a wonderful treat we fully intend on integrating into our diet, both here an upon our return. Platanos are plantains sliced into pieces, fried until golden brown, then taken out, smashed down a little, soaked in garlic water, then fried again, topped with a little salt. They make French fries look like child’s play. We had them once at her house and then tried making them ourselves, and while hers had the taste of an expert, we’re confident we’ll master the art of making them in no time.
So, after crossing over from Spain to France to Venezuela, it was our turn. While we were thinking ( or craving) a variety of burgers, French toast, biscuits and gravy, etc, we took our cue from the less than desirable weather, which has been dreary and rainy due to the short rain season we are currently in, and we settled on a nice vegetable soup. Not having ever made soup before, much less completely from scratch, we picked out a hodge podge of vegetables, some chicken bouillon cubes, and got to work. Everything came together really nicely, it was just a little…. Lackluster if you will. Basically some stewed veggies in a chicken water broth. So Val had the idea of taking some of the veggies and broth and “liquefying” it, blending it together. We took her cue, but left some vegetable to add some texture and variety to the mix and wouldn’t you know, it was perfect. The new broth was like a cream of vegetable broth with chunks of vegetable, the perfect rainy day remedy.
I think one of the best ways to experience a culture is through the food, and we are certainly getting our share of Kenyan food here, so it has been such a treat for us to try new foods from new places of the world I have not yet been to. But, more than the food, it’s has been great having other volunteers around to share the experience with and to create a truly global experience here. Carmen and Valeria have brought a new perspective to this experience and one that has been really unique. Everyone experiences things differently and it’s a learning experience just hearing their take on things and their worldview in general. Valeria has really taken a liking to Nairobi and is looking to move here in January for a year or so, hoping to land a job with an international organization. She keeps urging us to do the same and is always pointing out reasons for us to stay, or to come back here for awhile to work. Who knows. As Val says, “ Lo que sera, sera”. Basically, what will be, will be. For us here, and for the future, definitely words to live by.
-Laurel
We decided to make a tortilla-- not the American or Mexican version of a tortilla, but the Spanish kind, which is basically a quiche without the crust. We decided to cook it over at Carmen apartment, as she is the resident Spaniard and she would know how to cook it best. It was delightful! A thick slice of potatoes and onions held together with scrambled egg-- a wonderful reprieve from the somewhat monotonous rice and beans we eat at Hamomi when we stay for lunch. After our first successful food experiment it was time for Valeria to show us some of her heritage by making ratatouille from France and platanos from Venezuela. Now, ratatouille is pretty well known, but the platanos are a wonderful treat we fully intend on integrating into our diet, both here an upon our return. Platanos are plantains sliced into pieces, fried until golden brown, then taken out, smashed down a little, soaked in garlic water, then fried again, topped with a little salt. They make French fries look like child’s play. We had them once at her house and then tried making them ourselves, and while hers had the taste of an expert, we’re confident we’ll master the art of making them in no time.
So, after crossing over from Spain to France to Venezuela, it was our turn. While we were thinking ( or craving) a variety of burgers, French toast, biscuits and gravy, etc, we took our cue from the less than desirable weather, which has been dreary and rainy due to the short rain season we are currently in, and we settled on a nice vegetable soup. Not having ever made soup before, much less completely from scratch, we picked out a hodge podge of vegetables, some chicken bouillon cubes, and got to work. Everything came together really nicely, it was just a little…. Lackluster if you will. Basically some stewed veggies in a chicken water broth. So Val had the idea of taking some of the veggies and broth and “liquefying” it, blending it together. We took her cue, but left some vegetable to add some texture and variety to the mix and wouldn’t you know, it was perfect. The new broth was like a cream of vegetable broth with chunks of vegetable, the perfect rainy day remedy.
I think one of the best ways to experience a culture is through the food, and we are certainly getting our share of Kenyan food here, so it has been such a treat for us to try new foods from new places of the world I have not yet been to. But, more than the food, it’s has been great having other volunteers around to share the experience with and to create a truly global experience here. Carmen and Valeria have brought a new perspective to this experience and one that has been really unique. Everyone experiences things differently and it’s a learning experience just hearing their take on things and their worldview in general. Valeria has really taken a liking to Nairobi and is looking to move here in January for a year or so, hoping to land a job with an international organization. She keeps urging us to do the same and is always pointing out reasons for us to stay, or to come back here for awhile to work. Who knows. As Val says, “ Lo que sera, sera”. Basically, what will be, will be. For us here, and for the future, definitely words to live by.
-Laurel
Sunday, October 31, 2010
A Hamomi Halloween
This Saturday we celebrated Hamomi’s 2nd annual Halloween. It has become a beloved yet little understood holiday for the students and teachers here. Last year Jamie and Susie, the directors of Hamomi’s USA board based in Seattle, introduced the day and since it was such a great success, we continued the tradition. We spent this week brainstorming how we could explain and celebrate this pumpkin carving, trick-or-treating, fest of goblins and ghouls to Hamomi, without it being a mess of candy wrappers, pumpkin guts, and 135 sugar -high students. At first we thought about buying a pumpkin for each class to carve and decorate. However, after thinking it through and pricing out pumpkins, we concluded this was not the best option, nor was it in the budget. Trying to organize 12 to 18 students carving a single pumpkin would not have been a success by any meaning of the word. Not to mention, the undersized, whitish gourds they call pumpkins here, go for an outrageous 400-600 shillings. So back to the drawing board it was.
Another bright idea we had was for us to dress up in costumes and then do some trick-or-treating with the students. After quickly thinking this through we determined that maybe we’d attract even more unwanted attention on our walk through the Kawangware slum and into the Kangemi slum dressed as superheroes, animals, or the headless horseman. Also, knocking on peoples doors with 100 plus students, each demanding sweets would more than likely be seen as rude in the Kenyan culture and could possible tatter Homomi’s stellar reputation with its neighbors. Scratch that idea… Crazy Muzungu and their holidays.
So we settled on an idea brought originally to Hamomi by the first Halloween facilitators, Jamie and Susie. Decorating masks it is! Laurel and Val (a French volunteer from Venezuela) spent the next two full days cutting eye and mouth holes out of 150 paper plates. I offered the services of my Swiss army knife and found myself the more fun and less blister filled job of decorating a few sample masks for the students to see.
The day of was really fun. We circled up each grade on the Hamomi field and gave them paints, crayons, markers, colored pencils, feathers, water colors, construction paper, glitter and any other decorative material we could scrounge and the mask making commenced. I’m not so sure there were many superheroes or animals created, but many more colorful, nameless creatures began to take shape. I was really impressed, especially with the 1st and 2nd graders painting skills, although a few masks did end up that brownish-green color that mixing all the watercolors together makes.
At one point, Edwin, Hamomi’s English teacher, insisted I paint his face like a cat. After this I had a crowd of no less than four dozen students chanting “Cha, Cha Cha me next!!!” After about an hour of face-painting, the volunteers all grabbed the candy we’d brought and each group of went to a different classroom. Laurel and I began passing out candy from the baby-classroom and made each student say “trick-or-treat” before we gave them their sweet. Most of younger kids (who are just beginning to learn English) really tried to say what we wanted in order to get a treat. They came out with such things as “tick-and-tweet” or “sick-or-sweet” some just stared blankly until we gave them their candy. However, there was particular first grader who was quite insistent that, while he wasn’t quite sure what a “trick” was, he absolutely did not want one rather than his sweet! We passed out sweets to each student, teacher, and even a few of the other neighborhood children who couldn’t help showing up right around candy time.
All in all, Halloween was a great success! I hope you all enjoy the pictures.
Here's the link for the photo album:
-Eric
Another bright idea we had was for us to dress up in costumes and then do some trick-or-treating with the students. After quickly thinking this through we determined that maybe we’d attract even more unwanted attention on our walk through the Kawangware slum and into the Kangemi slum dressed as superheroes, animals, or the headless horseman. Also, knocking on peoples doors with 100 plus students, each demanding sweets would more than likely be seen as rude in the Kenyan culture and could possible tatter Homomi’s stellar reputation with its neighbors. Scratch that idea… Crazy Muzungu and their holidays.
So we settled on an idea brought originally to Hamomi by the first Halloween facilitators, Jamie and Susie. Decorating masks it is! Laurel and Val (a French volunteer from Venezuela) spent the next two full days cutting eye and mouth holes out of 150 paper plates. I offered the services of my Swiss army knife and found myself the more fun and less blister filled job of decorating a few sample masks for the students to see.
The day of was really fun. We circled up each grade on the Hamomi field and gave them paints, crayons, markers, colored pencils, feathers, water colors, construction paper, glitter and any other decorative material we could scrounge and the mask making commenced. I’m not so sure there were many superheroes or animals created, but many more colorful, nameless creatures began to take shape. I was really impressed, especially with the 1st and 2nd graders painting skills, although a few masks did end up that brownish-green color that mixing all the watercolors together makes.
At one point, Edwin, Hamomi’s English teacher, insisted I paint his face like a cat. After this I had a crowd of no less than four dozen students chanting “Cha, Cha Cha me next!!!” After about an hour of face-painting, the volunteers all grabbed the candy we’d brought and each group of went to a different classroom. Laurel and I began passing out candy from the baby-classroom and made each student say “trick-or-treat” before we gave them their sweet. Most of younger kids (who are just beginning to learn English) really tried to say what we wanted in order to get a treat. They came out with such things as “tick-and-tweet” or “sick-or-sweet” some just stared blankly until we gave them their candy. However, there was particular first grader who was quite insistent that, while he wasn’t quite sure what a “trick” was, he absolutely did not want one rather than his sweet! We passed out sweets to each student, teacher, and even a few of the other neighborhood children who couldn’t help showing up right around candy time.
All in all, Halloween was a great success! I hope you all enjoy the pictures.
Here's the link for the photo album:
-Eric
Friday, October 29, 2010
HELL's Gate National Park
After a month in Kenya, we decided it was time to get out of Nairobi and explore a different part of the country. Since we didn't want to be gone for more than a weekend, we decided to do an overnight in Lake Naivasha, about an hour north of Nairobi. We planned a couple of touristy excursions and off we went. The trip there was very pleasant, and we were in high spirits as we approached the beautiful lake. As we headed towards our first destination, Hell's Gate, it started raining, pretty intensely, and we began to wonder if it was a good idea to try to do the park amidst this weather. While I thought we had agreed to skip it for the day and go straight to the campsite we planned to stay the night at, I found myself following Eric's lead and alighting at Hell's Gate turn off, wondering why we decided to leave a nice, dry ride for the torrential rain that began to pour. We walked about 50 meters down the 2 kilometer road to the entrance before finding shelter under a tree to get our raingear out of our bags. Why Eric had us get off the matatu in the first place is beyond me, and you'll see at the conlusion of the story why, after this weekend, Eric has been relieved of any decision making in this relationship, ever.
Going back to where we left the matatu, we waited in the downpour for a good ten minutes before another matatu picked us up and took us to where we wanted to stay. At this point, it had stopped raining-- rain comes and goes like lightning here-- but we were thoroughly soaked and discouraged about venturing out anymore that day. Upon arrival at the camp, one that is highly recommended by our Lonely Planet book, we were unfortunately surpised at the cost of the place, which was at least three times what we expected it to be. We must say that while we love our guide book and all of the information it has provided us with, we are sorely dissapointed with the innacurate reporting of the pricing. This was not the first time we have gone into a siutation here with a budget planned according to the book, and then, realizing the book's error, have had to rearrange our budget. I must say that we haven't ever been in a bad position where we couldn't pay for something, it's just the unexpected element of surpise and hit to our pre arranged budget that takes us back. But, enough about that. We ended staying at a great place right on the lake with monkeys to entertain us and an electric security fence around the lake, as it is common for hippos to come up to shore at night to graze. After a relaxing afternoon, good dinner, and a couple rounds of scrabble, we retired for the night, even more eager to start our adventure at Hell's Gate the following morning.
A disclaimer is in order before the tale of Hells Gate can commence: I am not an in-shape person. I do not have any endurance whatsoever and find myself panting for air over fairly small physical activity. I know this about myself and readily admit it to anyone who is unfortunate to extend an invitation my way for anything physically challenging. However, I often find myself tricking me into accepting such invvitations, giving myself way more credit than is due. This lands me in a world of hurt, when about two minutes after said physical activity gets underway, I am on the sidelines panting for air, wondering what on earth I got myself into.
This park is unique in that they encourage visitors to walk or bike through the park, getting up close and personal with the wildlife that resides there. The excitement of the possibility of standing right underneath a giraffe was too good for me and Eric to pass up, so we decided to embark on our safari atop questionable bicycles we hired from the side of the road, 2 kilometers from the gate of the park. The going was easy, for the first 500 meters. I quickly remembered my lack of preparedness for this trip, but pushed it aside with the promise that being a short distance from wild zebras and warthogs would be well worth it. After we paid-- once again more than expected-- at the entrance, we were off ,and were greeted with a beautiful blue sky and beautiful cliffs on either side of us. Not too hot, good breeze, a perfect leisurely ride was on the horizon. Or so I thought. Our excitement continued to swell as we spotted gazelles and zebra very soon into our trip. Stopping to take pictures, grab some water, and marvel in the greatness that was the natural landscape before us, we were elated. The first 5km went by in a flash and we were faced with the decision to continue another two kilometers to a rangers post for a picnic, then turn back, or take a route marked "Buffalo Circuit", a 14 km trail that seemed to go around the eastern part of the park. Having time on our side, and Eric making the decisions, we (He) decided we should take the longer route. So, off we went, in search of more wildlife and to continue our wonderful Sunday morning.
Fast forward two minutes, we are faced with a mother of a hill, one that was impossible to bike up, so we dismounted and pushed onwards and upwards. As fatigue set in, I was doing just fine with the thought of summiting the hill, telling myself to set my eyes on the prize and just focus on getting to the top. Well, sad to say, after the first summit greeted us with another base of a hill similar to previous, after fifteen of these, my eyes were no longer set on "the prize", and instead were focused on staying upright. I can honestly report that I truly truly did try to suppress the mounting frustration towards my fearless leader, however, having been misled on treks far simpler than this one, I couldn't help but feel the steam coming out of my ears-- and it wasn't due to the beating sun and rising elevation! As Eric trudged forward, looking back every so often, telling me to stop stopping, I not so politely informed him that he had ruined our lesireuly ride and further misstepped by taking us up a route that proved to have no more wildlife than it did scenery. It was a heavy covered trail with bushes in every direction, providing little to look at but the massive incline before us. By this point, my legs are jelly, my lungs are barely functioning, and I'm literally gasping for air and trying with everything in me not to burst into tears ( at this point, if you think I'm overreacting, re-read the disclaimer. I am NOT an athletic person). Not to say that I don't enjoy physical activity. I actually thoroughly enjoy the idea of something physically taxing and further enjoy the thought of how beneifical it will be fore me. However, it's once I begin to engage in said physical activity that my body decides to give me the rude awakening of how much I've neglected to adequately prepare it for such a feat. On top of the borderline tears, nonfunctioning legs, and failing lungs I began to play mind games with myself, cursing me for not being able to get up a simple hill. I told myself how foolish I've been for not exercising more, yada yada yada.... I was in rough shape. At this point, in hindsight, I must give Eric tremendous credit for not leaving me back on the trail and continuing the journey solo. I can't say I would've done the same. He even helped me push my bike a couple times- albeit for a very short distance, because, well, I do have some pride.
At one point in our treacherous trek, I looked up to see Eric put his arms up in triumph and thought, " Oh my god, we've made it, nothing but downhill bliss awaits". WRONG. Eric was merely celebrating the fact that we were halfway, which was 7.7 km into the circuit, which once again let me emphasize, was COMPLETELY UPHILL. Whether Eric was just excited to be halfway or tremendously relieved that he has actually guided us on the right path ( which I may or may not have doubted out loud several times), he was in high spirits. I, on the other hand, could not join him in celebration, as I looked ahead, which only presented MORE uphill trail. I swear, I thought this trail would never end. We stopped for a ten minute lunch of PBJ and cookies, and looked at the map to see where we were in this godforsaken park. It was at this point that we noticed an interesting arrow on the map, directing visitors on the way to follow if they decided to take the Buffalo Circuit Road. No surprise there, WE HAD GONE THE WRONG WAY. I must admit, this provided a certain amount of consolation, knowing that the average visitor isn't supposed to be able to do this route and that had we gone the other way, most of what we had battled would've been much more leisurely, given we'd be going downhill the entire way with a very slight, gradual incline on the way up. I was furious at this oversight, but there was not point in turning around now-- or so Eric insisted.
Nevertheless, the afternoon was quickly approaching, and we wanted to be back into town early enough to catch a matatu back to Nairobi before dark. Having fueled up on energy, we continued to the top of the ridge that we had been following, and the going proved to be just as slow as it was before our pit stop. FINALLY. We reached the top. A wave of relief was quickly subdued as we examined the road before us, inches and inches of fine powder dirt, making a good coast down impossible, forcing us to continue our walk with our bikes, downhill. To add insult to injury, I was aghast to feel precipitation start to hit my arms, the only part of my body I could still actually feel. It truly felt like we were the victims of a cruel joke. Luckily, the powder dirt was short lived, and soon we were back on our bikes cruising down the mountain, trying to beat the rain while taking in the view of the lake and the abundance of zebras and gazelles the second half of this route had waiting for us. We even saw two giraffe in the far far distance, which totally counts in our animal tally for the day. My spirits were about a million times higher than they were the first half of this trip and knew that overall, we had a successful day. I humbly apologized to Eric for being such a wimp the first half of the route and he was gracious enough to shrug it off, as after all, it was his idea to go that way. The last several kilometers of the ride found us laughing at the ridiculousness that was that route and wondering why on earth they don't warn you about that route ( because, obviously, that arrow on the map is not sufficient!) Completing our 25 kilometer trek in just over 3 hours added the extra encouraging boost we both needed and we rode out of the park feeling very proud of ourselves and concluding it was, for the most part, worth it. As we rode out of the park, I stopped at the entrance to take a picture of the sign, Hell's Gate-- a name has never been so fitting!
Laurel
Saturday, October 16, 2010
Weekday Routine
We can hardly believe we’ve been here almost a month and are constantly shocked at how fast the weeks are flying by, especially this past one. Having developed a weekday routine, we thought it would be good to explain just how we are spending our days here.
A normal weekday find my alarm going off at 6:22. Whether that’s the actual time I roll out of bed or not is another question. Straggling out of bed, usually about 20 minutes later than my original intention, first priority is to shower and purify water. Thanks to the steripen, it only takes four and a half minutes to prepare three liters of water.
Next is breakfast. Or, more accurately, chai. While the menu differs from day to day, the two things that are always present are chai and bread. Sometimes this is the only thing offered, however, other days we are served fruit, bananas or Laurel’s not so favorite, papaya, which I always end up eating when the househelp and Alice have their backs turned. Note: It is also not my favorite, but I do my best to keep our relationship running smoothly, whatever the cost may be. However, every morning I wake up craving samosas, the most amazing snack on the face of the earth, and go out to breakfast hoping that they awaits me. This meat filled deep fried deliciousness is unfortunately only on the menu about once a week. Another breakfast we do our best to choke ( read I do my best to choke down two portions) are Kenyan sausages. It’s not that they taste bad, or that the texture is off putting, it’s more that they remind us of our walk to Hamomi and bring back memories of the plastic burning, slum smoke taste that leaves much to be desired. But, enough about breakfast.
Leaving the house around 7:15 to 7:30 depending on how late I’m running, we make our way to Hamomi through Kawangware up to Kangemi, which is always an exciting explosion of senses, and the ever present burning plastic/Kenyan sausage smell.
We usually make it to Hamomi a little past 8 and as we approach, running down the street to greet us is 2-year old Godi and 3-year old Sammi. The two sons of Janet, the school’s cook, who is wife to one of the teachers, are the chubby cheeked face of Hamomi to any visitor that comes. More on them later. We then greet all of the teachers with the customary handshake and a “habari yako” or the less formal “Sasa”.
Computer classes begin at 8:30, with each of us taking a student for a twenty minute lesson. Currently, we have covered typing all of the letters, and next week we will be covering other functions of Microsoft Word, such as saving and retrieving documents, and other functions on the toolbar. The progress the 28 students we tutor have made over the last few weeks, with only having two lessons a week, is quite impressive.
Godi, being in his terrible twos, and with little else to do throughout the day, really enjoys computer class. He has also learned how to type, aka banging his fists on the keyboard as the other students are trying to practice. We immediately scold him, Laurel in Swahili, which is greeted with laughter that this mzungu is yelling at him in his local tongue. Needless to say, we expect his return in less than 10 minutes.
We fill the morning before tea break with 10 lessons, and have spent many of our tea breaks sipping chai while mending clothes. Yes, Laurel now knows how to mend clothes, something I plan on exploiting in the upcoming years. However, this is starting to seem like a never ending battle, as we have already seen the same tears in the same uniforms, which is not a testament to our shoddy workmanship, but rather the poor quality material we have to work with. But, we do what we can with what we have, as do they.
After tea break, it is back to more computer lessons, except for on Tuesdays and Wednesdays, which is when we do the journal class, referenced in Laurel’s blog post.
Lunch is from 12:35 to 2:00. This gives us time to eat lunch, beans and rice, everyday, and play with the students. After we eat, I usually go down to the field to play some sort of sports with some of the students. While football (soccer) is the standby sport, I’ve also taught them baseball, handball, and ultimate Frisbee. This is usually the time I get dirty. Really dirty. Meanwhile, Laurel jumps rope with the younger girls and spectates with the other students who aren’t playing. Our day usually ends around 2:30 or 3, when all the kids go back to class for more formal instruction. There is little for us to do at this point, so we use the rest of the daylight to learn our way around the area, prepare for the next day, and use internet when we can to do planning and to keep up with emails. We’ve been able to help with various projects as well, including measuring all of the 135 students’ feet, to get an idea of sizes needed for new shoes that are being donated. We also attend the board meetings, held just about bi-weekly, where Laurel is the secretary and takes meeting notes, to then be sent to the American Board.
The rest of the evening is spent relaxing with our host family while watching English dubbed telenovelas, Spanish soap operas, which we guiltily admit we’ve gotten hooked on. We are always surprised at how tired we are at the end of the day, so bed time is usually at 9. Kind of pathetic, since that hasn’t been the case since elementary school, but there is little to be done once the sun goes down that doesn’t require taxi fare and a pub.
I hope this has given you all a bit more insight into how we spend our days and the work we’re doing at Hamomi.
Eric
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