Hamomi Soccer Match

This will undoubtedly be one of the few joint blogs we do together, however, such an experience warranted a collaboration.

Earlier this week, the teachers and students were excited to include us in their Friday soccer match against a school in the neighboring slum, Kawangware. The match was to be a "home" game, held on Friday morning before their 10 o clock tea break. We eagerly accepted the invitation and looked forward to it for the majority of the week. Thursday afternoon, they told us we could at our normal time the next day, 8 o clock, and that we would go directly to the pitch following their weekly religious learning, class. Upon our arrival at Hamomi Friday morning, we were informed that the match would actually not be until 2 pm, so we would do our normal routine of computer instruction, have an early lunch, and leave for the pitch at 1. As 1 o clock arrived, there was no sign that we were going anywhere fast. while we ate lunch quickly, the rest of the school proceeded at the standard Kenyan pace. finally at 20 after, the teachers began to line up the players, and the other 60 kids that would make up Hamomi's cheerleading squad. After a few words from Musumba, the Director, and Edwin, one of the teachers, we were off to the top of a "nearby" hill for the match. Before departure, Edwin instructed the students to take special care of the visitors-- us- and to make sure that no one touched us on our journey. The students took this command very seriously and each of us has bodyguard protection three kids deep in the front and the rear, plus at least two kids on each arm.

As we continued further and further away from Hamomi, we were certain the pitch must be just around the next corner. Much to our dismay, every turn we made greeted us with the next leg of the trek. No less than 30 minutes into our hike, numerous inquiries about our ETA were answered with " it's not much further". Finally, we reached a highway, and were slightly dumbfounded that the next part of our journey consisted of crossing a six lane road with no speed limit with no less then 60 kids. After a successful crossing, it seemed as if we had exited the slum and entered farmland, and were still no closer to our destination. The hike continued, with two dam crossings, a half mile stretch of rural roads, until we ended up at a farm, complete with horses and dozens of fenced in cows. as we climbed through two cut barbed wire fences, Moses turned to us and said, " we have arrived". Not knowing whether to laugh over the supposed field or cry over our aching legs and sweaty backs, we followed the students as they ran across the makeshift "field" to set up camp. The time is now 2:20. The game was scheduled at 2. However, it would prove to be quite the challenge to start the game at this time, seeing as the other team wasn't present. We were informed that our coach had gone to fetch them, so we settled in to wait under the shade. Our hour travel to the home field begged the question, "So, if this is a home match, then how far are the away games?" I think the students were quite amused.

Hamomi's players warmed up and stretched, and we decided to take a quick nap on the side of the pitch. The next time we looked at the clock, it was 3:15, and there was still no sign of the other team. Getting anxious about the looming nightfall, and the marathon of a hike required to get us home, we were much relieved when a herd of orange uniforms made their way onto the opposite sideline. We checked in with the Coach, who told us the girls would be playing for 20 minutes, and the boys would follow with a 60 minute match. While this made our arrival at home dangerously close to sunset, we decided to relax as much as possible, and enjoy the games. the girls finally got underway at 3:45. While our girls did their best, the other team's teacher was the standout player, making the sole goal for the other team and sealing their victory. why she was allowed to play remains a mystery. After the scored goal, some of the other players seemed uninterested in the rest of the match, and decided to save their energy by laying down on the field during the game. the players from both teams seemed as relieved as we were when the final whistle signaled the end of the match. Fortunately, the boys game was taken much more seriously.

Donned in lime green uniforms, that were passed off from the girls to the boys, our Hamomi players took the field ready for battle. This was a significant match for standard 8, as it would be their last as Hamomi students. our boys were quite impressive in their ball handling skills, considering they have little practice and a poor excuse for a practice field, given they use the Hamomi hill, referenced in Eric's baseball blog. As the match got underway, it was clear we were a cut above the other team, not to mention each of our players had at least 6 inches on their opposition, with the exception of Sabastian, who more than made up for the height difference with his excellent footwork and impressive speed. One of the highlights of the game was our first goal, not so much because of an impressive shot, but more so because of the reaction of Hamomi's supporters. As soon as the ball went through the goal posts, teachers and students alike burst out into rhythmic song and dance, led by the oldest students and teachers, banging on water jugs with sticks. One group of students even decided to do a victory lap, or several, maintaining the cheer for a number of minutes as the game continued. The second goal was even more chaotic in celebration, as no less than five teacher rushed the field, followed by dozens of students following their lead. It took a few minutes to clear the field so the game could resume.

Halftime was yet another interesting experience as the players were fed the Kenyan version of Gatorade and orange slices, i.e. handfuls of pure glucose, while they strategized, with the rest of the school huddled around them. The sugar seemed to work as we dominated play the second half, as the other team only managed one shot on our goalkeeper, which was quickly and effortlessly scooped up.

As exciting as the game was, we were becoming increasingly nervous in anticipation of our estimated hour and forty minute walk home through the slum, at sunset. It is common knowledge that wazungu should not be out after dark, much less in some of the most notorious parts of the city. it gets completely dark at 7. the time was 5:15. knowing how Kenyans heed time, we were trying our best to keep calm as the inevitability of us walking at night drew nearer. when the final whistle blew, more celebration erupted at our 3 nil victory. Our top priority of getting home seemed to be hindered by the slow pace Hamomi was taking in wrappimg things up. We were relieved when a group of students along with one of the teachers headed back to Hamomi. it was 5:30 when we exited the pitch.

Luckily our daily exercise routine of walking everywhere served us well, as we quickened our pace and booked it towards home, only stopping a couple times to make sure we had someone who knew the route. It was clear and unsettling as all eyes were directed on us at this time of night, even more so than they are during the day. Having reached Hamomi in record time, we now faced the most difficult part of our journey, the walk home without any local escort. We took a deep breath and confidently and swiftly booked it through the main congested street of Kawangware. As busy as it is during the day pales in comparison to the amount of people out at this time. It was clear we were moving in the opposite direction of most traffic, as people usually leave the slum in the morning for work and return at night. We were doing the exact opposite. We cringed every time a group of children excitedly shouted "Mzungu Mzungu", announcing our presence to the greater slum area. We completed the major part of our journey and turned onto Amboseli Road, officially out of the slum and only a short distance from home as it turned to dusk. At this point, we were somewhat relieved, as our skin color doesn't look that much different in that light. We reached our gate, panting for air, and agonizing over our sore joints and looked at the clock. It was 6:45. Once we were safely inside, we were proud to have shaved 15 minutes off of our travel time and were more than ready to turn in for the night.

Recounting the days events brought fits of laughter and the conclusion that it was well worth it.