I’m sorry I haven’t posted in quite a while. I’ve been hanging out in South Africa for the past few weeks just relaxing a bit so I guess I’ve been taking a little break from the blog as well. I will try to get it updated over the next few days or so.
I arrived in Nairobi, Kenya, at the end of March and was planning to volunteer at a children’s home there for about a week or so before heading down to Tanzania. When I arrived, I took a cab from the airport to my hostel where I checked into a three-bed dormitory room. The two other girls in the room appeared to be students who were living there long-term as their stuff was all over the place and they had obviously been there for a while already. One of the girls was somewhat friendly, but the other seemed rather miffed that I had “invaded” her space despite the fact that it was a hostel room and thus subject by nature to transient residents.
Nothing seemed to be working at the hostel--the phones, the internet service--so I went across the street to a cafe with wifi access so I could check e-mail and try to connect with my contacts at the places where I was supposed to be volunteering. When I finished I went back to the hostel where I met a German girl named Hannah who was up in Nairobi for a few days from Tanzania where she was volunteering. We got some beers at the kiosk next to the hostel, sat outside drinking them and then called it an early night.
I was already back in my room when the unfriendly roommate who was sleeping in the bunk below me returned. Though I tried to say hello, she didn’t even bother to acknowledge my existence. I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth and when I returned I saw that she had unplugged my cell phone, which I was trying to charge, in order to plug in her own phone (there was only one electric outlet in the room.) I was rather annoyed that she hadn’t even bothered to ask and as I stalked over to retrieve my phone I accidentally (I promise it was an accident) knocked over hers so that the charger disconnected. I tried to plug it back in, but couldn’t figure out how to do it so I eventually had to ask her to do it herself.
It was nearly midnight by then and I was still wiped out from my exhausting plane journey and uncomfortable night in the Bahrain airport so I climbed up to my bunk to go to bed. I didn’t even bother to ask the bitchy girl to turn off the light and instead just put on an eye mask so I could fall asleep--which I was fortunately able to do-- until about 2:30 in the morning. That’s when I suddenly felt a hand grabbing for something around my back. I audibly gasped and then heard a female voice quickly say “sorry!” before one girl opened the door to leave and another got back onto the lower bunk. By that point the light was already out and I was so groggy that I didn’t bother to say anything. I don’t really know what they were trying to do, but my best guess is that they wanted to find my phone, which I actually had next to me on the bed, though luckily on the other side. Needless to say I was pretty pissed as I rolled over and went back to sleep.
The next morning I met up with Hannah whom I had made arrangements with to go into the city center. I was already planning to check out of the hostel that day to head to one of the children’s homes, but the events of the night before confirmed that I needed to get out of there as soon as possible. I mentioned what had happened to one of the managers at the front desk, but since I had no proof that the girls were actually trying to steal something and I couldn’t even confirm exactly who they were, I’m guessing he probably never even said anything to them. At least I did my part to let him know in case something like that ever happens again.
After leaving our bags at the front office, Hannah and I took a cab into the center of Nairobi where we walked around the downtown shopping area. I broke down and bought a cheap local cell phone since I had so many people I needed to get in touch with as well as a pair of sunglasses to replace the pair I had just left behind in Cairo. We also walked around a traditional African craft market where there were a lot of really nice things that I just didn’t have any room to carry around in my backpack. By mid-afternoon, we headed back to the hostel where one of my contacts was coming to pick me up and Hannah was supposed to meet up with a friend of a friend as well.
When the first car arrived, we weren’t sure who it was for, but it turned out it to be for me. It was Matthew, a board member at the first children’s home I was going to visit for a few days where my friend, Nolan, had volunteered in the past. Nolan had spent a week there with another friend, Kevin, and formed a real connection with a lot of the kids. At first it didn’t look like it was going to work out for me to go there myself so I made arrangements with another home through one of Nolan’s coworkers. In the end, the opportunity presented itself to visit so I postponed my arrival at the other center by a few days. This first center was located in the village of Ruiru, about 30 minutes outside of Nairobi. It housed mostly older children and teenagers who have generally been rescued from off the streets or homes where their parents are no longer able to care for them. The facilities were very basic with no real indoor kitchen or running hot water, but I’m sure it was still preferable to where these children were living before.
Upon my arrival, several of the children greeted me at the entrance and I met a few of the staff members who showed me to the room where I was staying and gave me a tour of the complex. The main building housed the office, rooms for the staff and visitors, a dining room, meeting hall and library where the kids do their homework and study. Outside was a courtyard and covered kitchen area. Bordering the yard were the four dorm rooms that house the girls and boys according to age. Behind the dorms was a small garden and chicken coop where the kids help to grow vegetables and gather eggs.
After the tour, I went back into the main building where I spoke with some of the kids for a while before being invited into the meeting room where they were blasting the CD player and dancing to the music. Eventually I got pulled onto the dance floor where I made a complete fool of myself as only a white girl trying to keep up with a bunch of rhythmically-gifted African kids can truly do. We alternated between them trying to teach me their moves and me teaching them mine, which were quite lame by comparison. In the end, though, I just let loose and had fun because I was clearly the only one who felt in the least bit self conscious.
Late in the afternoon the kids had a fellowship service in the big meeting room. They took turns singing hymns and reading out bible verses. One Swahili song that they all sang together in harmony was so hauntingly beautiful that it nearly made me cry just listening to it. Watching and interacting with the kids throughout the day made me see how much joy they take in the simple acts of singing and dancing despite their limited circumstances. While all I could see was the things that were lacking, they were able to find so much happiness in the basic pleasures in life that cost very little money. I also noticed how the children really treated each other as siblings and the older ones looked out for the younger ones. They had created a family for themselves in the most difficult of situations.
At dinnertime, after the kids were ordered to turn off the music and pointedly told it was time to eat, I was ushered into the dining room where I was given a huge serving of Ugali bread and beans. Ugali is basically just flour mixed in a pot with boiling water, but it is so dense that there was no way I could finish my massive portion. Once I had determined that I couldn’t possibly shove any more of it into my mouth, I sheepishly put part of it back in the pot because I didn’t want to waste the food. Naturally, this did prompt some strange looks from the group of younger kids who were gathered around as I did it.
The following day was Sunday so the kids were off from school again. In the morning, I helped to cook traditional Chapati bread over the wood-burning stoves outside. This basically involved placing thin circles of dough on a heated stone skillet, turning the dough, buttering it, then flipping it over and rotating it some more. I was certainly no expert and nearly burned my hand a few times on the hot skillet, but eventually got the hang of it.
I needed to pick up some more bottled water so after the cooking was done, Manuel, a young Dutch guy who had been volunteering at the center for a few months, brought me to the grocery store across the highway in the village. Walking to the store I had the opportunity to see how poor the village of Ruiru actually was with its shanty houses, dirt roads and strewn piles of trash. I suppose it was probably representative of many villages in Kenya, but compared to the relatively more developed city of Nairobi it was clearly lacking in many basic resources. Along the way, Manuel told me stories about the kids and some of the things they had been through, including how one of the boys had recently been hit by a minibus crossing the road and never been quite the same since. I had noticed the boy walked with a bit of limp, though he still loved to dance with all the others. Manuel told me they sometimes made fun of him, which made me rather sad.
Back at the center in the afternoon, the children gathered for another church fellowship, this time led by a student from one of the local divinity schools. There was more singing, testifying and preaching about important lessons the kids were supposed to glean from the Ten Commandments. After the service the kids once again had free time so there was more dancing, unicycling and general commotion. I danced with the kids and chatted with some of the older ones about their plans for the future. One of the boys told me he was taking acrobatics classes and another named Francis explained that he wanted to go to college in the US to study fashion design. He said it was Nolan who had encouraged him to pursue that career path and while I listened to his plans and offered him advice, it saddened me to think of the huge obstacles he is going to have to overcome to actually make it a reality. These kids all have such big dreams, but just by accident of birth, it’s so much harder for them to reach those goals than it would be for the average American teenager.
In the evening, the kids all gathered for the weekly Sunday night debate. As the visitor I was tasked with coming up with the topic. I had a hard time coming up with something suitable, but finally settled on the question of whether it is more important to learn history or science. It was really interesting to hear what they had to say and see how their Christian beliefs influenced their arguments. In the end, the “science” side won out, though I personally thought the “history” kids had a more coherent argument. It was one of the kids who was doing the judging so he might have been just a bit biased.
After the debate we had dinner and then while the kids were doing their chores I tried to go around and say goodbye to some of the kids individually. I had fully intended to get up to say goodbye to the whole group while they eating breakfast the next morning, figuring I would be awoken by the commotion. Instead, since they ate at about 5:30am, it was barely a blip on my consciousness and I never made it out of bed. I instead wrote a note and gave it to Manuel asking him to read it out to them when they got back from school. I admit I had a bit of a lump in my throat, realizing I wasn’t going to get the chance to say goodbye. Even though I had only spent a very short time with them, these were really special kids and it was hard knowing that, unlike very young children, they would actually remember me after I left. The entire time I was there, they couldn’t stop talking about Nolan and Kevin, and how much they missed them I saw what a big impression those guys had left on all the kids and I honestly felt like I was abandoning them just as they were starting to get to know me. In some ways, I felt like it might have been better if I hadn’t come at all since I disappeared as quickly as I arrived. However, it was now time to head to another children’s home where I would see things on the complete opposite end of the spectrum.
Pictures posted soon. Also of Egypt. Promise. They're just not loaded on my computer yet.
Nothing seemed to be working at the hostel--the phones, the internet service--so I went across the street to a cafe with wifi access so I could check e-mail and try to connect with my contacts at the places where I was supposed to be volunteering. When I finished I went back to the hostel where I met a German girl named Hannah who was up in Nairobi for a few days from Tanzania where she was volunteering. We got some beers at the kiosk next to the hostel, sat outside drinking them and then called it an early night.
I was already back in my room when the unfriendly roommate who was sleeping in the bunk below me returned. Though I tried to say hello, she didn’t even bother to acknowledge my existence. I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth and when I returned I saw that she had unplugged my cell phone, which I was trying to charge, in order to plug in her own phone (there was only one electric outlet in the room.) I was rather annoyed that she hadn’t even bothered to ask and as I stalked over to retrieve my phone I accidentally (I promise it was an accident) knocked over hers so that the charger disconnected. I tried to plug it back in, but couldn’t figure out how to do it so I eventually had to ask her to do it herself.
After leaving our bags at the front office, Hannah and I took a cab into the center of Nairobi where we walked around the downtown shopping area. I broke down and bought a cheap local cell phone since I had so many people I needed to get in touch with as well as a pair of sunglasses to replace the pair I had just left behind in Cairo. We also walked around a traditional African craft market where there were a lot of really nice things that I just didn’t have any room to carry around in my backpack. By mid-afternoon, we headed back to the hostel where one of my contacts was coming to pick me up and Hannah was supposed to meet up with a friend of a friend as well.
After the tour, I went back into the main building where I spoke with some of the kids for a while before being invited into the meeting room where they were blasting the CD player and dancing to the music. Eventually I got pulled onto the dance floor where I made a complete fool of myself as only a white girl trying to keep up with a bunch of rhythmically-gifted African kids can truly do. We alternated between them trying to teach me their moves and me teaching them mine, which were quite lame by comparison. In the end, though, I just let loose and had fun because I was clearly the only one who felt in the least bit self conscious.
At dinnertime, after the kids were ordered to turn off the music and pointedly told it was time to eat, I was ushered into the dining room where I was given a huge serving of Ugali bread and beans. Ugali is basically just flour mixed in a pot with boiling water, but it is so dense that there was no way I could finish my massive portion. Once I had determined that I couldn’t possibly shove any more of it into my mouth, I sheepishly put part of it back in the pot because I didn’t want to waste the food. Naturally, this did prompt some strange looks from the group of younger kids who were gathered around as I did it.
The following day was Sunday so the kids were off from school again. In the morning, I helped to cook traditional Chapati bread over the wood-burning stoves outside. This basically involved placing thin circles of dough on a heated stone skillet, turning the dough, buttering it, then flipping it over and rotating it some more. I was certainly no expert and nearly burned my hand a few times on the hot skillet, but eventually got the hang of it.
I needed to pick up some more bottled water so after the cooking was done, Manuel, a young Dutch guy who had been volunteering at the center for a few months, brought me to the grocery store across the highway in the village. Walking to the store I had the opportunity to see how poor the village of Ruiru actually was with its shanty houses, dirt roads and strewn piles of trash. I suppose it was probably representative of many villages in Kenya, but compared to the relatively more developed city of Nairobi it was clearly lacking in many basic resources. Along the way, Manuel told me stories about the kids and some of the things they had been through, including how one of the boys had recently been hit by a minibus crossing the road and never been quite the same since. I had noticed the boy walked with a bit of limp, though he still loved to dance with all the others. Manuel told me they sometimes made fun of him, which made me rather sad.
Back at the center in the afternoon, the children gathered for another church fellowship, this time led by a student from one of the local divinity schools. There was more singing, testifying and preaching about important lessons the kids were supposed to glean from the Ten Commandments. After the service the kids once again had free time so there was more dancing, unicycling and general commotion. I danced with the kids and chatted with some of the older ones about their plans for the future. One of the boys told me he was taking acrobatics classes and another named Francis explained that he wanted to go to college in the US to study fashion design. He said it was Nolan who had encouraged him to pursue that career path and while I listened to his plans and offered him advice, it saddened me to think of the huge obstacles he is going to have to overcome to actually make it a reality. These kids all have such big dreams, but just by accident of birth, it’s so much harder for them to reach those goals than it would be for the average American teenager.
After the debate we had dinner and then while the kids were doing their chores I tried to go around and say goodbye to some of the kids individually. I had fully intended to get up to say goodbye to the whole group while they eating breakfast the next morning, figuring I would be awoken by the commotion. Instead, since they ate at about 5:30am, it was barely a blip on my consciousness and I never made it out of bed. I instead wrote a note and gave it to Manuel asking him to read it out to them when they got back from school. I admit I had a bit of a lump in my throat, realizing I wasn’t going to get the chance to say goodbye. Even though I had only spent a very short time with them, these were really special kids and it was hard knowing that, unlike very young children, they would actually remember me after I left. The entire time I was there, they couldn’t stop talking about Nolan and Kevin, and how much they missed them I saw what a big impression those guys had left on all the kids and I honestly felt like I was abandoning them just as they were starting to get to know me. In some ways, I felt like it might have been better if I hadn’t come at all since I disappeared as quickly as I arrived. However, it was now time to head to another children’s home where I would see things on the complete opposite end of the spectrum.
Pictures posted soon. Also of Egypt. Promise. They're just not loaded on my computer yet.
Jen, Even though you were saddened by the fact that you had such a short stay with the children, you seemed (based on what you wrote) to be aware of the lesson that you were supposed to learn from your visit. I love you. Mommith
ReplyDeleteALL THE PLACES YOU'VE BEEN, THINGS YOU'VE DONE,PLACES YOU'VE SEEN...THINGS YOU'VE LOST( A LITTLE JOKE) AND IT SOUNDS LIKE THE KENYA KIDS WILL STAY WITH YOU ..LIKE YOU BELIEVE YOU WILL STAY WITH THEM.
ReplyDeleteYOU LIKELY HAVE GIVEN THEM MORE TO DREAM ON.
AUNT " D"