VM and more Binti

So I started the vagina monlogues project with the girls. I had them sit and write a story about what is like to be a woman in Africa. They were told to pick an aspect of feminity and write a story that happened to them or someone they know. The stories were really good and I got topics on abortion, teenage pregnancy, puberty, rape, theft, corruption, gender roles and more. The next few times we met I chose the stories which I felt were well written and displayed a personal story about African feminity. Then I read the stories aloud, and after each one we started a discussion on what the story was talking about, what would you do if you were the person in the story, how can we address this issue, how can you protect yourself etc. The girls are so bright and aware of the world that sourronds them and had great input and strong opinions about their stories. While these topics are talked about regularly, I think it is really crucial for them to hear each others stories and know how common these experiences are for women, no matter how taboo. I hope I got them to think about how much they have experienced as a group and how important it is to support and relate to each other.

We have also continued improv dance lessons and I have been trying to teach them to share weight. We do small excerises experimenting with leaning on each other and moving your center of gravity with another person. They did well, but the biggest struggle is laughter. Those girls could laugh from dawn until dusk, no matter what they do. It's hard for me to force them to focus because I am so glad they are having fun.

We come home a week from tomorrow! We are trying to pack in boxing, work, nice dinners, shopping, goodbyes, and packing into our last 9 days. I am sad to be leaving, but really miss home too.

alisa

My favorite time of day

...is when nursery school lets out (around 4). Today I was walking home and a group of kids (maybe age 3 or 4) all in matching green plaid uniforms saw me walking behind them. They stopped, turned and yelled out a long "HOOOOOW ARRRRRRE YOUUUUUU?" And then of course immediately began chanting it. They all ran full speed at me, I crouched down and squeezed two giant arms fulls of children. When I stood up, they grabbed my hands/me/each other and I walked with them down the street. I got some funny looks being one mzungu with about eight children draped on my arms. Some of the children broke off to walk home, and I ended up with one child on either side. I actually feel safer walking around with african children than anyone else. No one seems to mess with them, and usually leave me alone when I walk with them (although I cannot remember one day that I haven't been verbally harassed walking between home and work). And it felt good to accompany children home, under the pretense that maybe I am protecting them. We walked a good ways before I split off to go through the market to go home. Turned to wave goodbye only to realize they were turning around and going back the way we had came!!! I though I was walking them home but they were actually walking me.

alisa

Lake Naivasha and Hell's Gate

Blair, Pascale and I decided to get out of town for a couple days and we went to Lake Naivasha, which is about an hour and a half bus ride from Nairobi. What a trip! We arrived at Fisherman's Camp, which is a campsite right on the lake with a few bandas (a small hut with basic accommodation) and tents to rent. We rented a banda, went out on the dock to see the lake, and then went to the on-site restaurant/bar. We had dinner and watched the sun go down. We met some foreigners, and chatted with drinking coffee out on the patio. Velvet monkeys danced among the woven tree branches that swayed with their weight. There were many birds, which were distinguishable mostly by sound. Their calls were very unique, many sounded more like instruments than animals. Piano keys, trumpets, flutes... it was soothing to experience silence and cacophony at the same time. In the lawn, you could see hippos grazing that had come ashore under the protection of night fall. The noise they make is exotic; somewhere between a cow's moo, fog horn, and growling stomach.

The next day we went to Hell's Gate National Park for a day in the great outdoors. We got an awesome guide, Marcus, and rented bikes to ride through the park. I miss my pretty white swiss villager with baskets and a bell, and the rickety old mountain bike took some getting used to! But it was invigorating to be on a bicycle next to zebras, giraffes, gazelle, and huge rock cliffs. The scenery was gorgeous and sculpted by centuries of volcanic activity. The sand glittered with black pieces of obsidian (volcanic rock). After 8kms biking, we stopped for a picnic lunch at the top of the gorge. While we sat, a huge baboon (seriously weighted as much as I do) sauntered up to our picnic table. Our guide chased it away (apparently they are dangerous) but it approached us like we were just animals, not threatening to him in the least. Of course that is true, and all I could get out was "Stick... BABOON ... MARCUS ...STICK!"

We walked into the gorge and found ourselves between two rock faces over 60 feet high. The gorge was mostly unaltered by humans, and in some parts we had to shimmy up logs, leap, climb and contort to get through it. We had a blast. At one point where the hot springs had water running down the rocks there was a little shower of spring water. We stripped down and showered in the spring, which was the perfect temperature. Apparently the sulfur in the spring is really good for you, and we all felt a little bit younger :)

Next we climbed to the view point, which overlooked the whole gorge. And to be cheesy, it was gorge-ous. We sat there to take it all in, and then walked back to our bikes. It was a full days exercise, but felt great and was breath-taking. We got home, had dinner and a beer and fell asleep with ease.

The next morning I woke up early to see the sunrise on the lake. I jumped the electric fence (making sure there were no hippos first) and sat out on the dock with some local fisherman. The sky and water was pink and purple from the glow of the sun behind the mountains. There were flocks of pelicans costing above the water as though they were ice-skating and the water was frozen. I could hear the birds, monkeys, and hippos and got a sliver of solitude for the first time since I have been in Africa. Being on the water is so cleansing for me, and after our trip I truly felt invigorated. After spending two months battling sexism, poverty, smog, harassment, and choking back natural anger and frustration in Nairobi, this peace was priceless.

all my love,

alisa

walking into Kibera

I wanted to record my morning walk to work...

Usually after a quick cup of coffee, I walk down into Toi market. I pass along it's side, with vendors unloading their bags of goods to sell for the day. The further into the market you go, the fewer clothes and shoes and more vegetables and grains. Carefully avoiding puddles, rotting fruit, and garbage I walk through a small alley lined with tailors, barber shops and coal salespeople. The coal guys always say hello in a silly voice; I can't tell if he is making fun of us or is just really silly. Next is the large lady sitting in a big pile of greens, sorting and stacking. Then three tables with ladies selling dried minnows, with eyes still intact. You wouldn't have to see them to know they are their because the fishy smell is precise and poignant. Then are the few men who are sitting drinking tea who always ask us if I want to sit with them and have breakfast. I pass more shops, which open up to Kibera drive. After carefully crossing the road with raging matatus and buses, I walk up the hill past shoe salespeople, nic-nacks, and necessities. At the corner there is a music shop that blares load music (usually early 90s R&B) which always perks me up. I walk into Olympic, and the street is bustling with people preparing for the day. Kids are walking to school, shops opening, and people rebuilding structures with shiny new sheet metal. I arrive at the office, slap our security guard's (who we call 'soldier') hand, check on the chameleons that Blair saved which now live in our compound, and start the day.

July 4th party and girls soccer

Holy moly. The last couple days have been wild.

Happy independence day, America! On the fourth of July we went to a celebration at the home of Micheal Ranneberger, who is the US ambassador to Kenya (yes the same one we met a couple posts back). There were over 2,000 people at this invite only event out on his huge back yard. Things to note include the life size American flag made entirely of cupcakes, Raila, Kalonzo, Obama's Grandmother, Obama's sister, and free wine. Disclaimer: those things do not necessarily all rank equally :) It was so cool!!!!!!! I was shocked to see Raila in person (because I have only see posters of him everywhere) but was most smitten with Obama's relatives. Salim knows Obama's sister, so whe chatted with her and then she introduced us to his grandmother. In vernacular language she said, "Mama, these are some of Barack's friends." I have never felt so awesome!!!!!! I got to hug Obama's sister and take photos with her and his grandmother. It was very clear that awesome-ness runs in the Obama family. They all emit a glowing energy.

We also talked to David Price, Jim Cooper, Mel Watt and other congressional folks, their military escorts, and spouses. David Price was particularly impressive; he was a wonderful networker (introduced us to at least 6 people), has a good head on his shoulders, and was passionate about CFK. His wife Lisa was also very cool to talk to and super down-to-earth. After the party, they all came down to CFK to here more about what we do and then we took a walk through Kibera to see our clinics. About half way into the walk it started pouring rain. It was quite an adventure to tour a big group of wazungus around a muddy, flooded Kibera. We laughed, and everyone was a good sport, which was impressive for folks who were dressed to a T trudging through mud. We got back to CFK and everyone was soaked. I, brilliantly, waiting until this point to get pictures with them and have some great shots of me with important congress folks; both of us soppy wet. They described their trip to Kibera as unforgettable. I hope that's the case.

Yesterday we hosted a soccer tournament for girls from the informal school sector in Kibera. These are schools who are not recognized by the government and have little to no resources for students and also don't have soccer games like the formal schools do (soccer is hugely popular). There were hundreds of kids there playing soccer, listening to forums about sexual health, getting VCT counseling, and having dance-offs. It was a successful day; everyone had a lot of fun.

Also, all week I have been hanging out with Dr. Jennifer Coffman, who is on the board of directors fro CFK and is a professor at James Madison University. She is a cultural anthropologist, brilliant professor, loving mother, avid environmentalist, and fantastic story teller (I could go on and on). It has been such a pleasure to get to know her, hear about her work and passions. You know how sometimes you just hit it off with people that you hardly know but feel instantly attuned to? Ya, Jennifer is one of those people :)




On a different note; my house mate (NOT BLAIR, whom I am traveling with) went downtown last night to a few bars. When getting ready to leave, someone on the street ran past her, snatching her bag from her shoulder. The street was crowded and well lit, and the many people who saw it ran after him and beat him until he was lying in a pool of blood. She came home horrified from witnessing such an event, and it has and will continue to take a great deal of energy to convince her that it is not her fault. The sense of mob justice is prevalent here, and terrifying. While we can talk all day long about where she was, how she carried her bag, who was with her, what time it was and so on, for me it comes down the troubling process of acclimation. As a white person, no matter how acclimated to Kenya you may become, Kenya is not acclimated to you. After being somewhere for a certain amount of time you naturally become more comfortable and let you guard down. However, we stick out, are stereotyped and targeted for crime. I feel very strongly about not blaming the victim in any circumstance and instead looking at sources of crime, namely poverty, and putting energy in addressing them. Regardless, it is unnerving when it happens so close to home and reminds me that in fact I am farther from home than I have ever been.

all of me,

alisa