The Adventures of Barbie (ha!) and Ken(ya)

Last post for a while...

2008-01-22T06:15:00.000-08:00

I've been putting off writing on this thing because I don't really want to accept or write about the fact that my Peace Corps experience has been put on hold... indefinitely. I don't want to talk in detail about what it is like to be back in MN in the middle of winter, having not had the chance to go back to Umer to get all my shit or (more importantly) say goodbye to anyone. Writing about all of this gives me a chance come to grips with the fact that I have NO idea what I want to do with myself (my life). It makes me think about the fact that I spent over a year preparing to become a PCV, and now, a mere 8 months in to it all, I am back in the states... bashfully explaining to people why I'm here. I'm embarassed; I forget this wasn't my choice or my fault (or anyone's). Bottom line: this situation SUCKS. And there's nothing I can do about it.

After two weeks of being in limbo (in Tanzania) the powers that be in DC decided that it would be better for us to be in limbo in the US (because... well... I won't speculate, but I don't necessarily feel that our best interest was in mind). I don't know what happened to all the options they gave us before. All the talk of humanitarian work, of site changes... we were given so much hope. And then were told that we, within the week, would either have to take interuption of service (IOS) and go back to the states indefinitely; take IOS and hang out in Africa (on our own dime) and wait for Kenya to reopen, or do a direct transfer to another country and "never look back," even if Kenya became OK again. Here I am. I'm waiting for PC to call and send me back to my site; I'm expecting PC not to call; I'm expecting that if they do call, they will not send me back to my site (something about them saying "going back to your site, at any point is HIGHLY unlikely" gave me that impression...). So... yeah. Damn.

They say they will send us weekly emails, updating us on the situation and our options. We'll see. I'm trying to enjoy the comforts that I thought I'd be doing without for the next couple years, as long as I'm here... it certainly is comfy:)

That's all for now... I'll let you know if, by some miracle, I end up on a plane somewhere warm (Kenya, please??) any time soon.

xoxo
H

Update from Tanzania

2008-01-12T01:34:00.000-08:00

I just wanted to write a note to update you all as best I can on what's going down.

We made it to Tanzania (via private jet) on the 4th and have been holed up at a bed and breakfast resort type place on the coast ever since. It is nice here. Very nice. Hot as hell. But, yes. Nice. Do I feel good about being here? No. Am I complaining? No. Well. Not outloud. It's just hard to see Kenya on the news, to talk to my family back in Umer and be...soo...removed.

On a darker (related) note, we met with our country director this morning, who made it pretty clear that it was pretty clear that they would be closing sites in Western, Nyanza and Rift Valley Provinces (my site is in Western). Pause. Pause. Yeah. The group moral was low before he said that outloud (we are all going a bit crazy being in limbo like this). Now my spirit is just.... gasping for life.

The options for us potentially "displaced" volunteers are MANY. We can go back to the states, no questions asked. We can try to get a new site somewhere in Kenya and essentially "start over;" we can try to get a temporary placement with a relief organization in Kenya, helping displaced people (there are over 250,000 reports have said) and then go back to our sites, if situation permits, or back to the US, if situation doesn't permit. We can try to get another assignment in another country. The list, believe it or not, goes on. It's hard to absorb and consider all this, though.... I mean... we don't even know definitely that we won't go back to our sites (it just... really REALLY seems like we won't).

The word is that they are going to try to get us back at least to Kenya by Wednesday or Thursday this week, so that we can be in one big group with all the other volunteers who can't go back to their sites... that way they can talk to us and deal with us all together rather than in many smaller groups. I don't know where in Kenya we'll be kept, but... somewhere. I am ready to be back in Kenya. I miss Kenya.

Anyway, more news to come; I'll share it as I get it. Thank you for all your kind words and thoughts...

Love,
H

I just won the Peace Corps lottery

2008-01-03T07:13:00.000-08:00

Just got a call from our country director: they have decided to send me (and the 6 other volunteers I'm with), a group of 11 volunteers currently in Kisumu and another group of volunteers currently in Kakamega to Dar es Salaam, Tanzania for the next two weeks!

They chartered us a flight from Kericho to Kisumu tomorrow morning, then a direct flight from Kisumu to Dar es Salaam. We'll be there for the next two weeks to "decompress", our country director said. Amazing.

I know next to nothing about the city, other than it's on the coast and is beautiful. Again I say: amazing.

Peace Corps Tanzania is holding their in service training while we're there, so we are going to attend; other than that, I plan to work on my tan and my Kiswahili.

The ODM rally (scheduled for today) was postponed until January 8th-- I'm praying that things settle down in the next two weeks so that I can come back to the Kenya I used to know and get back to work.

PC isn't evacuating the whole country, just those of us here, in Kisumu and Kakamega. I think it'll be around 30 people.

Anyway... that's the update here. I'm feeling better. And worse. And excited. But not. At least we have a plan now. A plan that involves the beach.

Thank you all for your concern.... keep Kenya in your hearts (as I will). More to come.

Love,
Hannah

"Is this the Kenya you used to know...?"

2008-01-01T23:18:00.001-08:00

That was the question posed to me by a group of four or five men standing in an abandoned gas station the other day. I walked by with my friend Rachel (we had gone out in search of more charcoal and food) and we exchanged nods and acknowledgements of the sort that you can only share with people who are experiencing exactly what you are experiencing in the place and at the time you are experiencing it. Only a few seconds had passed after those sympathetic nods and crooked smiles when one of the men (wearing an orange, ODM hat) turned to us and asked, "is THIS the Kenya you used to know?" Though I've only called Kenya home for 7 months and, in my heart, only considered it home for much less than that, I couldn't help but turn to him, half smiling. "No," was all I managed to respond.

We just got moved to an incredible house on the tea plantations just outside Kericho. We were picked up this morning by a private, gov't vehicle, and they dropped us all off here. Things here are, to say the least, comfortable. The compound we are on is owned by the Walter Reed Project, who have a base in Kericho (I really don't know much about the organization; something from the US and military related). We are actually staying in one of the two guest houses. They should really be called guest mansions. I'm feeling really guilty, actually, having raided all three of the fridges (one is full of frozen meat and chicken), messed around with the satellite TV, and claimed one of 4 hardwood floor bedrooms. There is a kitchen the size of Marcus' entire house, complete with 2 ovens, 2 microwaves, a stove top and panini sandwich grill; we've got a grand dining room, a HUGE sitting room with couches and the aforementioned TV, two full bathrooms, 2 walk-in pantries (not full, but we did find 3 cans of tuna, some cereal, 3 packs of ramen noodles as well as about 100kgs of rice-- incredible), a washing and drying machine, a veranda (I'm sitting on it right now as I write this), and fresh milk. And pet dogs. Like I said, I feel guilty.

Things here are.... sad. Really, really, incredibly sad. There is this feeling of shock, defeat and injustice in the air... along with the tension that often chaperones those sentiments. It is eerie. Because it's been pretty quiet the past couple days (at least in Kericho), we've been able to walk around (not in to town, but down the road a little). There are abandoned kiosks and overturned bus stops; road blocks made by lining rocks and boulders accross the street. A few days ago I saw people dragging all their possessions (beds, mattresses, couches--evertying) out to the road, hoping to catch a ride anywhere. Yesterday, I saw several young men wheeling the same things back in towards town on huge carts. I'm not sure if they had looted other people's things or if they were bringing there own thigs back.

I've talked to my family in Umer a lot. When I called to wish them a Happy New Year, all they said was, "...this new year is not happy...". They are safe, they said, just.... upset. "We need our President [ODM's Raila Odinga]," my friend William said. "They are giving us false results," my 19-year old brother, Joseph told me. I asked him if people are fighting and he said "not yet. We are waiting for Raila to speak to us." That is, of course, in my village. People in Kisumu (and all over Kenya, for that matter, have not waited for anything. People are dying. People are displaced. Supplies are limited and dwindling. And as much as I hate to be so negative, I can't see it getting better before it gets worse.

Even police officers we have talked to have not been shy about sharing their feelings that "justice is necessary. If people think there is injustice, they must fight for what they believe is right."

We had the chance a few days ago to watch the news at a nearby hotel. In all honesty, things look MUCH worse on TV than they feel here. I mean, I'm not in Kisumu or Nairobi, but.... a lot of violence has gone down in Kericho, too.... and at least from where we sat, I NEVER would have described "how things are" as the scene that I saw on the news. It makes me sick to see it. I really am heartbroken. Perhaps the saddest thing for me is how ominous the future looks; I can't see how it will be resolved (if it can be resolved) and I certainly don't see it getting better before it gets worse. I don't think that one police officer is the only person who feels that way about justice. And it's becoming more and more apparent that there was (and remains) a lack of it.

It's really hard, on a more personal note, having no idea what is going on (really) nor what will happen. We've spent HOURS speculating. That's really all we can do. Will they evacuate us? Will we ever get to go back to our sites? If they evacuate us, where to? When? How? And what about all our crap at our sites (when I packed for this trip, I thought I'd be back in a week, it's now been over two...and if we do leave the country, I won't get back to site before that)? And what about all the PEOPLE at our sites? The thought of leaving Kenya without at least saying goodbye to the people who have been my life here is... awful. It's bad enough knowing that, at any point, we can up and leave; knowing that we have people whose entire JOB it is to figure out how to get me out of here safely, should things get worse. But the thought of leaving people I love who don't have anything near that option, right when things get worse... it's hard to deal with.

Anyway. There is so much more to say... I'll save it for another installment. Tomorrow there is a huge ODM (that's the opposition) rally planned in Nairobi. It will really be a pivotal day. If that rally goes through... things could get much worse. But if that rally is prevented from happening... things could get much worse. So... look for an update tomorrow. I'll let you know, if at all possible, where I'm going (if anywhere) and what's going on (if anything). If I'm unable to post for whatever reason (power, as we know, is... unreliable), I've been talking to my parents every day... so bug them for info (hope that's OK, Mom and Dad).

Please know, above all, that I am OK. We are all OK. I just, really REALLY hope Kenya is, too.

Love,
Hannah

Just an Update

2008-01-01T10:14:00.000-08:00

I just wanted to write a quick note to tell you all that I am alive and well, inspite of the mess Kenya is in right now. I will write a long message in the next few days (everyone is waiting to use this computer at the moment), but... thank you all so much for your concern. I am really fine-- more heartbroken for Kenya than anything, really. Not much news on what will happen (to me, my program, etc.)-- for now, I am on lock down in Kericho at Marcus' house with 6 other volunteers. We'll be here at least until Jan 5th... who knows, after that.

More to come....
Love,
Hannah

p.s. The six of us just firgured out how to make CornNuts using the 4kgs of dried maize we bought from the only open kiosk near Marcus' house (it was the last of one of the only things we could find). So.... yeah. That was the high point of our day. CornNuts are.... delicious. :)

Wooo hooo!

2007-12-23T20:15:00.001-08:00

At long last.... I'm back in the lap of luxury (Marcus' house) and able to update my blog. I know you all have been waiting in EXCRUCIATING anxiety for me to post again (especially you, Dad:), so I'm happy I can, albeit quickly, as I'm off to Lake Baringo to camp for the week. PC is giving us pretty much this whole week off without it counting against our vaca--they want us to go somewhere and stay there through elections. So...kar'BU vacation!

First things first: I have named the bat. In an attempt to remain culturally sensitive, I have, after much thought and internal debate, decided on "Popo." In the end, I narrowed it down to two choices: "Wewe" (translation: "you") and "Popo" ("bat"). Wewe is what I scream at it as I'm flailing my arms and running around my house...when it flies around before I'm safely under my bed net. It also can be used to shoo cows, dogs or small children. I decided on Popo, though, because I like the ring of it and I like the fact that it applies only to bats, as it means bat. In Kiswahili. Or Dholuo. I'm not sure which. I heard Baba refer to it as Popo a few times, so... I gathered (because I'm a cunning linguist, you know) that it means bat. In trying to get the true meaning of my bat's name, I asked Baba the other day if Popo is the word for bat in Dholuo or Kiwahili. He replied "yes." I pressed on... "So... it's the word for bat in Kiswahili?" ... "Yes." "Or.. is that how you say bat in Dholuo?" ..."Okay..." "Wait, Baba, I'm confused... Popo. That word... is that a word in Kiswahili or Dholuo?".... to which he replied "Nice time."

In other developments, I have started putting a little mat down every night in the spot where Popo pees and poos, so that I don't have to sweep it out the door every morning. The first night I did it, Popo didn't pee or poop. So the next night, I didn't put it down. And Popo peed and pooped like he hadn't done it for two days. I muttered, "wewe...." and swept it out the front door, laughing, because Popo clearly has a sense of humor. After that night, though, I decided I would just put the bat mat down every night, regardless... and now Popo seems ot understand that it is ok for him to go there. So... all is well on that front.

Since the last time I posted, I have been to Nairobi and returned (we had a week long training there). The training was... okayyyy.... the best part of it, to be honest, was returning to Umer after it. It was just nice to really miss life there. And to go back and feel like I had really been missed. Right when I got off the matatu in Bar Ober, some people I didn't even know ran up to me and shook my hand and said "Ann! Ann! Where have you been! You have been lost!! Welcome back! We have really been missing you!!" It was nice. Note: I know my name isn't Ann, but that's what people call me here. And when I got back to Umer, my mamas were laughing and clapping and dancing... and they hugged me and it was just... a nice moment. There was so much joy there.

I really feel like a different person when I'm in the village. A better person. And I didn't realize that until I spent that time in Nairobi and came back. In Umer, I have so many fewer concerns, but the concerns I have seem... more real, somehow. More important. More worthwhile. In Nairobi things are fast and dirty and busy and all over the place. It's easy to fall right in to that "go go go who what where" mentality. In fact, you kind of have to to not get eaten alive. But when I'm in Umer, I feel like I can breathe, and take time to look at the sky and to look at people-- I mean, to really look at them and smile at them and wave and ask them how they are and really care about their answer. And it's a wonderful feeling. I don't know that I've ever really had that or felt that. Don't get me wrong, I've definitely felt those things before, but never all at the same time or continuously as I do here.

As far as work is concerned, I've got big BIG plans for January. I started meeting with a guy named George who lives and is from Bar Ober. I have no idea how we got connected, but he basically (er...literally) showed up at my house one day... and we started talking. And it turns out that he does work in community development (he studied it in University in Nairobi) and that he has been trying to get people together to help...change things. He heard that I was here doing similar things, so he thought "two is better than one" and decided to seek me out and see if we could join forces. I said of course. George is educated (in agriculture, too...) and dedicated to helping his community and he understands where I'm coming from, from a community development standpoint, which is... a really, REALLY nice thing. He understands that money is a quick and often sloppy solution to many of the most common, deep-rooted issues in our community, but, because his family lives here and in poverty, he has helped me understand why people think and say many of the things they do. And he is punctual. Which I am not used to at all. But it's great.

So... George and I are now a team. And our first project is to gather some baseline data about the state of our community so that we can better know where to start developing. In other words, we're doing a "needs assessment" in the form of guided interviews. We've been working to develop our questions, using some standard community surveys I got from the PC and adapting them. We're going to spend January (and however much longer we need) to visit houses and talk to people. And then, we're going to analyze our little hearts out. And thennn... develop a plan of action, based on what people have told us. The plan for developing a plan of action will in large part depend on what the interviews reveal, but... of course, the idea is to be as participatory and community-based as is possible (because... my Mom has taught me well:).

I am really excited to do this, partly because I love meeting and talking to people, but also because I am interested to see how people percieve their life and their community and what they have to say when they have the opportunity to say.... anything. I've been really excited about helping get the dispensary built, and about getting a protected water source and about helping the primary school... but... maybe we'll find that something else is more pressing or more important to the community. Who knows.

Speaking of the dispensary, I found out how I can make it so that people in the US can make a contribution to my project through the PC (tax deduc. and all that). I have to write a proposal and get it approved, and then... PC will put a link on their website with my name and project information... and anyone in the world can go to the website, read about what I'm doing and donate (or not). That's another thing I'm going to do in Jan/Feb... (unless I find out through my interviews that no one in my community really wants a dispensary)... so I'll keep you all posted on that front. If anyone is interested.

Other than all that.... ahhh, well there's so much more I have to say, but I'm trying to get all my things together so that I can get camping. I'll have to write more next week(ish). And I promise to do so.

Happy Happy Happy Holidays.... keep your fingers crossed for a safe and successful election here, too (Dec. 27th!). Love and miss, as always.

xoxoxo H

Pictures!!

2007-11-26T21:52:00.000-08:00

Yayyy! Pictures!

It takes FOREVER to upload pics from this computer... but I'll do as many as I can before I go crazy. I'll do commentary, too, where necessary. Enjoy:) H

Sooooo, this is....me.... making chapati. (Traditional Kenyan food. Kind of a cross between a tortilla and naan. Really greasy. Really tasty.) Mmmmmm.

This is Manu (Emanuel), my sister Emily's baby. He's not even a year old yet (December), but he is a big boy. Cutest kid in the world. We are friends. I know it looks like he's crying, but I swear, I didn't do it. He stopped crying right when I came. Really.

This is our boar hole (I talked about it in the most recent post). It looks a little sketchy here, but the water is crystal clear. I still filter and treat all my drinking water. So does my family. Except for Baba right then. :) He's alive and well, though. No pun intended.

Some community members who came for the clinic; Jackline, in the middle with the maroon head scarf, makes and sells porridge and nyoyo (maize and beans) for people who come.

A few community health workers (CHWs), not to be confused with commercial sex workers (CSWs). Sometimes I get those abrrevs. confused. It's really unfortunate when that happens. This is clinic the "reception" area.

This is the building where our clinic is held. The woman standing in the back is waiting to see the Dr. The arm sticking out in the middle is...a man talking to the nurse (where the meds are distributed). The lady in front is....pregnant. [Note: This is not the dispensary that I want to get built... this is a temporary structure that we're using. The "dispensary" as it stands now was behind me as I took this picture.]

This is the Rotary Drs.' magic time machine. Actually, it's just a car. But they do work magic...

The shamba crew, taking a photo break. From left: Resila, Helida, Conslata, Jen and Lilian (the chairlady of the women's group, Umer Women Against AIDS [UWAA], I work with). This pic was taken at about 7am. These are the strongest women I have ever met in my life. Have I mentioned that before? A few thousand times? They are wonderful.

Umer Primary School. This the better of their two classroom buildings. The students in the window are Standard 8 (8th grade) students. 10 of the 15 enrolled students in that grade are orphans.

The worse of the two classroom buildings. This classroom is supposed to be used for Standard 4 (4th grade). Yeah.

So... I was trying not to disrupt classes when I went to take these pictures. As you can see, I did very well. Right.

I think these are Standard 3-5 students. I told them to make a silly face. The kid on the far left is my favorite.

Ok. That's just the beginning... I'm off to go be productive for a bit. More pics and stories to come.

Love,

Hannah

Can't...think...of...a...witty...title....

2007-11-25T05:10:00.000-08:00

I'm sitting in my friend/fellow PCV Marcus' sexy apartment with my feet up on his coffee table, drinking yogurt out of a carton with a straw and...updating my blog. Life is good. So posh corps right now...

I've actually made a list of things to talk about so I won't go blank like I usually do when I sit down to write here. I'm sure this post will be as discombobulated mine always are, but... at least I have a list. My mom would be proud.

I've started jogging (or is it "yogging"? is it a soft J?) a bit in the mornings just for fun. Aside from feeling like I only have one lung and that it's an underdeveloped, asthmatic and TB infected lung (I'm blaming the elevation, not my lack of fitness), it's been really fun, mostly because I laugh at myself the entire time. Because I look like an ass. Not many people (um...no one in my village that I've seen yet) wake up to do more physical work than is required to live here. People in my village are SO strong and hard working. In the shamba most mornings, walking to get water (and then carrying 20 gallon jugs back on their heads), cleaning their land, keeping their animals (and small children), cooking, I could go on. But...running? Just to run? People find it really amusing. Some of my favorite comments so far: "WHAT'S WRONG??", "...where is your bike??", "...what are you doing...?" followed by knee slapping and hysterical laughing, "Ohhhh sorry! Sorry!" like whatever I'm doing looks painful to the point of them feeling bad for me. I naively thought that everyone would be a runner in Kenya. That's completely logical, right? Kenyans run. All of them. But, yeah. No. It's not the case. My village thinks it's hilarious, though. And that's reason enough for me to keep doing it.

I have been keeping myself really busy lately and it feels so good. Among a few other things, I've been meeting with a builder to talk about the quote for the dispensary, I've written a letter to the Rotary Dr. people to try to get a protected well for my family and the surrounding families (other than rain water, our water comes from an open boar hole, fed by a natural spring), I've met with the head master at the local primary school to do a little "assessment"--the better classrooms have no doors, no windows, no floors, the worse classrooms have been deemed a health hazard by the Ministry of Health but are being used nonetheless--so... I've got to come up with a plan to fix that, and I've visited the nearest medical facility in Murumba (about 13km away from my village), just to check it out. Not that I needed more inspiration to get our dispensary built, but... wow. I was not prepared at all for what I saw there. Below is part of what I wrote in my journal that day:

"...Perhaps the first sign that something was amiss was the huge fallen water catchment tank lying useless on the front lawn (their main water source?). Near and around that sat and lay sick people and family and friends and boda-boda(bike taxi) drivers. A bare mattress lay unoccupied on the grass; next to it, a man sitting, resting his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. I parked my bike near the other 15 or so in front; just beyond that were lines of people waiting to be seen, some waiting to see others. Mostly women, most carrying babies. The erie quiet was punctuated with bursts of desperate coughing coming from one corner and echoed by someone else accross the open air hallway. There was no "hospital building" (per se)that I saw, just open air walkways connecting rooms of different purposes. The "system" for visiting a patient was...non-existent. Baba and I walked up to a room marked "WOMENS WARD" and when the old mama serving as the only nurse to about 12 occupied beds in the ward emerged and opened the doors, about 20 of the people standing around outside rushed in to hold the hands and stroke the cheeks of their respective loved ones. I stood in the doorway, just...staring. It was the first hospital I'd seen that didn't have shiny white floors, clean white robes, plastic plants, generic wall paintings and calendars, a forced "hush"ness, that awful sterile smell. I missed that sterile smell. I fixated on the IV drips, which were actually just inverted plastic bottles connected to tubes. Some of the bottles were punctured directly with hypodermic needles (maybe these things are standard?); some of the IVs were hanging on the iron window bars because there was nowhere else to hang them. There was no sound of beeping, dripping, breathing. No curtains. No privacy.
And then, everyone in the room gathered around and in between the beds and I watched as they lowered their eyes and then their heads and were led in prayers by someone among us. I focused my eyes on the little baby in the bed closest to the door where I was standing, his chest rising and falling, so labored. I listened, not knowing the words that were being mumbled but somehow understanding them...and I reminded myself that these people were the lucky ones who had mad it there. I still couldn't step all the way in to the room...."

Sorry to be so Debbie Downer... but, shit. I was really affected by it. I know getting a dispensary built wouldn't necessarily change things at that hospital... maybe things don't even need to change. Sometimes I worry that when I think about "helping" I really am just picturing bringing the world I grew up in to the world I'm in now. And that's not necessarily appropriate or necessary. Still, a dispensary in Umer (my village) could maybe help people not need to get to that hospital? I don't know.

Anyway. My eyes are bugging out. I have a lot more to talk about, but I'll have to write another installment this week sometime. I'll keep you all in suspense. Wuahhh hahaha.

Much love,
H

Kar'BU Kenya

2007-11-05T00:10:00.000-08:00

Karibu (pronounced "kah-REE-boo") means "welcome" in Kiswahili. Our volunteers from the dirty south have coined an alternative, "Kare-BOO" pronunciation. I am... obsessed. So... woo! Kar'BU.

I got a ride to Siaya last week with the Swedish doctors who come to do a bi monthly clinic in my village. A little ways in, we saw a HUGE crowd of people along the side of the road, people running from all over, arms flailing. Immediately I thought, "Awww God, a gory vehicle accident scene"... I started fantasizing about the doctors having to snap in to action and do some emergency road side life savings and whatnot. As we got closer we saw that it was one of those huge petrol carrying tanker truck thingies that had jack-knifed and flipped on its side... and that no one was injured (that we saw)... that the huge crowd of people running from all directions and watching were actually people who had come from their houses carrying their water jugs to steal free petrol. For MILES after the accident we saw people who had come all the way from home to jack gas from the broken truck, carrying it on the back of their bikes, on their heads, wherever. There were two police officers around... half heartedly "controlling" road traffic, but it was a crazy scene... unlike anything I've ever seen on the side of the road in the states. Kar'buuu Kenya!

Things are going really well, aside from my bat (see previous posts), who has gotten really audacious and saucy lately. I thought we had an agreement-- he comes out once I'm secure under my bed net. But a few nights ago he just... went crazy and was flying all over the place, up and down and all around, making a scene, even pooping NOT in the place where he always poops. Because I'm my father's daughter, I'll say that this without question means that the bat has rabies and will, in fact attack me in my sleep. Baba a few months ago gave me a spear (a legit, like... arrowhead on a long stick) to kill the bat with. Um... right. I'm a sharp shooter, but my rabid bat spearing skills are not what they should be... so... I'm going to be all Tasmanian devil, breaking everything in sight trying to kill that thing. Do they have "have a heart" bat traps? Are there ways to house train bats? I don't really want to kill it... but, man.... he's freaking me out. Ha.

I went to a Halloween party in Migori this weekend and got to see a lot of PC (and non-PC) buddies. A highlight for me was seeing a 27 year old man dressed in a primary school uniform (sweater vest, short shorts, knee highs). I didn't really have a costume, but I was wearing my dancing shoes. I danced for hours on end and was told by some Kenyans that my dancing is "just, yes, so nice, yes." I was honored. Particularly since 7 year old kids can dance circles around me and make me look like the least coordinated ass EVER... they are so good. We had a good time, nevertheless.

So... I feel like I went on Spring Break to Cancun this weekend... I danced more and slept less than I have in... a really... long... time. I need to recover. From my vacation.

I'm off to eat samaki kubwa (big fish) on Lake Vic with peeps... one of my favorite things to do here. Hope all is well... more to come.

Love and miss,
Hannah

2007-10-11T01:46:00.000-07:00

Alright, let's try it again. This time I'm at the PC office in Kisumu, so I think whatever I write will be ok (and not get erased), but you just never know. :)

Everything is going well--really well, actually. I'm settling in more and more, learning a lot of Dholuo and even a little Kiluhya, since I live right in between Luoland and Luhyaland (and there's a lot of intermarrying); I'm getting to know my community(ies) and just.... keepin' on keepin' on. Living. I feel really comfortable and happy, though, and it's a great feeling, because I at the same time feel really far away from what and where my life was a few months ago. It's cool to feel yourself becoming at home in a place that is NOTHING like any place you've ever been.

The family on my compound is (I know I say this every time) wonderful and really like my real real (albeit surrogate) family. I feel so cared for and cared about and part of them-- unconditionally; I also feel really lucky to have been plopped down in the middle of their life and immediately accepted. They are (or at least seem) so interested in who I am, what I'm doing, what I think about... everything. They really value my opinions and ideas, they want to know what I would do if X, and what I think about Q and how Z is done in the United States. I chat without thinking and share my thoughts casually, and next thing I know people are saying that I have such good ideas and I will help so much (and I'm thinking "Shit, what did I just say, I was just blabbing outloud").

Two days ago 12 of the members of my women's group came to my compound at 6:30 in the morning (I'm not kidding) to help me dig and plant my shamba (Baba has given me a pretty nice sized chunk of land for planting anything I want). The 13 of us dug, hoed (is that a word?) and 4 hours later had planted seed beds: cabbage, green peppers ("pili-pili ho-ho", my favorite Kiswahili word. Another volunteer once introduced herself to a Kenyan police officer as PiliPili Ho ho. He was not amused), carrots, cilantro, ginger and garlic. I wish I could articulate what it was like to see these people--mostly women-- digging and hoing so so hard in MY shamba at 7am. There are no machines to aerate the soil, no animals to plough, no irrigation systems, nothing. Everything is done by hand and it is not light work. At all. I was so in awe of these womens' strength and their willingness to come, without a question, to help me plant. They worked and worked and worked, and THEN went back to their homes to start their days. And that's how it works every day. Spending a few hours in your shamba is how you wake up; it's what you do before taking chai or porridge (and damn, that porridge has never tasted better than it did when we got back that morning). And helping one of your own--a neighbor, a friend, a relative-- is just what you do. You know they'd do it for you, but that's not at all why you do it.

While we were in the shamba, Zacharia (my supervisor) told me that he had studied the map of the US that I let him borrow and that he now is sure that he can find where I live when he goes to America. I had circled places of interest on the map before giving it to him, so he knew where I'm from. "St. Pauls, is it?" he asked. I smiled. "Yeah, St. Paul." He continued, "So, when I get to St. Pauls, which way do I go?" I laughed. "Left. Take a left." He laughed. "No, I mean, in St. Pauls, what is the name of your village?" And from there followed a classic and wonderful PC moment; an "opportunity for cultural exchange" as we say. I told him that we don't really have villages like there are here, that all the streets have names and if you want to find someone's house, you ask where their street is. And that in my town all the roads are tarmac (not just one), and my neighbors live about 5 meters from me and we don't have a shamba (GASP!). And that's just the beginning. Where do you go from there? Every day, every second there are comparisons to make like that, but it's only relevant to say those things outloud when someone brings it up. I could have a running monologue, "I'm going to the choo. In America, we don't use choos. Even if we go camping, there are latrines with toilet seats that we can sit on... we don't squat over a hole. In America, having 5 large cups of tea in one sitting is...rare. In America, tea with whole milk is not the same thing as water. If you are full, drinking whole milk does not make you less full." Etc. etc. [Note, I do not mean to write in a hostile tone; on the contrary, these are aspects of life here that I now find endearing and will miss dearly]. Anyway, last week my dad asked me if I ever wish that I could just drop someone from my community here down in to my life in the US. That innocent dialogue with Zacharia only confirmed for me that, yes, I wish all the time that I could do that. But what on earth would they think?

More to come.

Love,
Hannah

2007-10-01T01:42:00.000-07:00

I just spent 40 minutes writing a post that got "timed out" and erased, despite the automatic saving thing. Awesome.

All is well, though... :)

H

This is hard

2007-09-10T02:59:00.000-07:00

Ok. There. I said it. This. Is. Hard.

I'm sorry I haven't posted in forever, it is for no reason other than that there is no computer near me, so I only post when I come to Kisumu. Alas.... here we are.

Everything is going. As the name of this post suggests, THIS IS HARD. Every day. All the time. But, I am settling in to life just fine (I'm pretty good at adjusting quickly)-- I'm learning Dholuo, which amuses people to no end; I can eat ugali like a Kenyan; the bucket baths I mastered in Kitui... so in the sense of living/survival, life is fantastically sweet.

What is so hard? I'm trying to figure it out, and I guess not knowing what exactly is so hard is also hard for me (have I lost you yet?); it's like there's not one specific thing I can work hard to get better at or fix, there is just a general feeling of being a huge let down to my community (already!). I have been invited to and visited tens of community groups of all kinds-- my Baba is kind of pimping me out to all the local groups, which is fine with me (I'm here to help, after all). But, EVERY time, without fail, after we do introductions, in one way or another someone in the group turns to me and says, "So, what do you suggest for our group?" Pause. . . . . what do I suggest about what? "What do you think we should do to make our group better?" Well, I really know nothing about your group, I just met all of you, so it will take a little time for me to identify problems, maybe you can ask me about problems you think your group has? Pause. "Oh, ok, well... we started this poultry farm to try to make money, and it turns out it's really expensive and a lot of work. What should we do to improve our poultry farm?" Hmm... well, I've never done any poultry farming so I really can't give you much advice about your farm...Pause. "Oh. Well... we want to plant cash crops. What should we plant? What do you think?" You get the idea.

I'm realizing that though I am here as a "Public Health Volunteer" (a neat and tidy tittle, if you ask me), because I'm here to help my community in the way that they want and not to force feed them HIV/AIDS information (as important as I think it is to impart that knowledge), if everyone wants to know about making money somehow, then... I need to figure out how to help them figure that out. I'm not limited to the kinds of activities you might picture a "Public Health Volunteer" doing. I'm not limited to teaching people things that I've been trained to teach them. Hell, I get excited at the chance to touch on HIV/AIDS briefly in the context of some other conversation ("I don't know about poultry farming, but poultry farming... is related to farming... which is kind of like "planting seeds"... which makes me think of SEX... which is related to HIV/AIDS?!?! Good! Yes!") When people are worried about providing for 5-10 kids and community elders and cows and goats and chickens, if they can't do that, who am I to say that learning about AIDS is more important? I mean, they are both important because they are both related to survival... but the former seems more like a necessity, relatively speaking.

It has been really hard for me to go to "anti-AIDS" support and self help groups with high hopes of presenting startling stats and doing condom demonstrations, only to have people say, (basically), "Yeah... AIDS is a really big problem. So... how can we make money?" No one is asking me personally for money, which is an improvement (believe it or not), but everywhere I am, I am seen as a way to get money. And I don't really blame them. We're talking about a couple thousand US dollars (MAX) that these community groups need to DRAMATICALLY change the quality of their lives. If I start thinking about the amount of money spent on shoes or hotels or frosting in the US (in my own life, too, surely) and I try to imagine how far the same amount of money would go here... I could just burst in to tears. It's not fair. Is it?

Until my grant writing frenzy begins (I'll get trained in grant writing in December)... I am trying to set little goals... celebrate little victories (lighting my charcoal stove by myself-- WOOOO!) and not be completely overwhelmed by... everything... but, shit. It's overwhelming. Not to mention frustrating, depressing, HARD....

.... and just, wonderful. These people, my Mamas, the kids... are incredible people who have taught me so much already. No matter how hard things are, the thought of leaving them is worlds worse than the thought of facing anything I might have to face (though I am really f-ing scared of the bat that lives in my house, don't ask me why). So... that's good. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, right? (I've got to make sure that bat doesn't attack me in my sleep.) :)

Anyway, that's the news from Lake Victoriagon... hope all is well in all of your lives.

Thinking of you all always, per usual. Be well. "I know I am!!" (Harry Carry reference, anyone? Will Ferrell fans...? I don't know how to spell his last name, but I really am a fan. Really. Zorgus. borgus. I just got bit by the, love bat... AND IT'S DRIVING ME MADDDD!!")

Take 'er easy.... she's my lady and that's what I said... No? No. Ok. I'm going.

Love,
Hannah

2007-08-13T00:57:00.000-07:00

Just a really quick note to let you all know that all is well at my new home! I'm in Kisumu for a hot second picking up my bike (which will make life SO much easier), back to site in about an hour. Internet is...not... close....really, at all, to where I'm living now, so I may be forced to neglect my blog. I'm thinking of getting an internet capable cell phone in the next month or so, though... so it's tough to say (at this point) what my communication situation will be. I did get a new PO Box (my very own PO Box in the nearest town to me), so if you want to send me letters or a puppy, this is a more direct way:

PO Box 21
Bar Ober 50411
KENYA

I miss and think of you all constantly, and promise to be in touch and keep you posted as much as possible. That being said, if you want to reach meeee for any reason, calling me or sending me a letter (1907 style) is the best way until I let you know otherwise.

Peace and love,
H

At long last!

2007-08-01T07:08:00.001-07:00

I made it! I completed training! Woop woop wooop. Tomorrow morning is our official swearing in ceremony (with the Ambassador AND the Minister of Health-- how PIMP is that??) and on Friday I'm off to site. The end of training and our departure from home stay was somewhat anticlimactic (I think everyone is ready to start real work), but the crazy times had on Monday night were a nice way to end our 10 week training extravaganza. Now it's go time. Finally.

So... right. Monday night. Let me just begin by saying that I have earned the respected nickname of "Cruise Director" for my mad party planning skills as well as my ability to get up in front of my entire training class, language trainers, powers that be, etc. and make a complete ass of myself without thinking twice. For anyone who went to OSRUI, you may or may not be familiar with the "box game"... yeah, so it works really well with a hundred or so campers... and it worked remarkably well with 50 PCTs, too... if you don't know what I'm talking about... sorrry... but it was hilarious and ridiculous and it worked really well. I also took it upon myself to make 50+ superlative awards ("Most likely to...") for every trainee and language trainer (pathetically, I made actual awards and colored on them with markers and crayons. I'm 7.). They went over very well. Other than that, it was a crazy time consisting of a lot of Tusker (Kenyan for bia), a lot of busting moves (so much so that my back and neck are totally messed up) and much laughter. I even debuted Blanca at the end of the night for a VIP group of 2. She was a big hit. Even in Kenya, she and I both live on.

The night before we left for Nairobi we put all our baggage in a locked room, only to be told that we had to move it in to two other rooms. So we did it, fireman's brigade, yadda yadda. Fine. I should note that we all have about twice as much luggage due to the fact that we get about 2 new PC manuals a week. Some people use their manuals to light their jiko ovens, but I, being my mother's daughter, have saved them all. Anyway, we left for Nairobi and were all feeling really smug about the fact that a big truck was coming to take all our bags to Nairobi for us and we didn't have to load them up or anything. We made it to Nairobi and about an hour later, the luggage truck showed up, and unloaded all 20 bags that they had packed up. 'Escuse' me, sir, um, is there another truck coming? No. Where are the other bags? What other bags? Well, there were two rooms filled with bags. No there weren't. You get the idea. Classic.

The funny thing is that the one bag of mine that made it was the bag I had specifically packed as my "I'm not opening this until I get to site" bag. I was a bit confused because I had moved my important bag in to the front room and I thought that was the room that had been brought, but I didn't think about it much because so many other people were missing bags and I figured it would make it eventually. I borrowed a toothbrush and some shampoo and was feeling fine... until this morning, when I went down to the office of the hostel, where I saw my duffel bag, which had been sitting there all night. It HAD made it on the truck... I just hadn't bothered to look in the place where they had put all the bags. It sounds so much more stupid when I type it out like that. Why would I not look in the room where all the bags were being put? I guess I was so excited to see my one unimportant bag in the hallway that I assumed nothing else made it? I don't know. Whatever.) The end of the story is that unfortunately, the truck was only rented for the day, so today, one PC vehicle had to make multiple trips (3hrs one way) to get all the luggage here. Some people are still missing bags.

I had a crazy thought the other week, as I was daydreaming about life back in the states. I was thinking about what a luxury it will be to again live somewhere with a gas stove and multiple burners. As I was thinking about said gas stove, I started to think of how easy it would be to boil water for bathing with multiple burners (5 pots at once!). And then I realized that in the US I don't have to boil water for bathing because it comes out of the faucet. Ha. Riiiiiight.

Also, I re-discovered a restaurant I had eaten in the first day I was in Kitui. The first time I ate there, I remember being so somewhat in shock (it was hot and sticky, there were flies everywhere, I thought I might die, etc.). When I walked in the other week, I could have sworn it was a different restaurant. In the Ritz. I would have eaten off the floor. Everything really is relative. I just couldn't believe how quickly that shift had taken place. :) Yay, adaptation.

This is probably my last post for a while, as I'm heading to site on Friday, but I promise to be in touch as soon as I find a computer close to where I'll be. My cell phone should work still, too. As far as mail goes, the address posted below will still "work"... it'll work for the next 2 years, but I will probably get a PO Box closer to me once I settle in, and as soon as I do, I'll give that out so that I don't have to get my mail forwarded from Nairobi.

I can't WAIT to see what my life is like at my site... I can't wait to have my own place and cook my own food and see my community again... and I can't wait to tell you all about it (as soon as I can).

Thank you, still, for all your support and emails and calls...
love love love,
H

Poleeeee.....

2007-07-25T02:58:00.001-07:00

I just wanted to let you all know that I'm alive and well... the internet is REEEEALLY slow today... so it's taken me half an hour to write one email and this post... but I promise I will update something juicy (or not?) soon. This is our last week of training, so things are really winding down (and up!). So exciting. We haveour host family appreciation party on Saturday, a language exam on Sunday and "Prom" on Monday night, so between all that, I will have an amusing post next week. You know me and "prom" type events. Wooo! Love and miss.

Semaaaaa

2007-07-16T07:58:00.000-07:00

Ha!! This is awesome. I'm sitting in the high speed inet cafe in Nairobi and it is hot as HELL so I'm all sweaty and nasty (which isn't too out of the ordinary) and the power keeps flickering on and off. A wise man once said, "TIA" (Leo DiCaprio, Blood Diamond. Right around the time when he disses the Peace Corps. Classic.). But, so, yeah. TIA. *cringe. :)

I had a three hour matatu ride (to Nairobi) to think of insightful things I wanted to post when I got here, and now I'm sitting here and all I can think is to make horrible movie references. Hmmm.

I guess I can get the ball rolling by saying that the past week has been a bit intense. We got back from our future site visits, and people kind of started dropping like flies (slash... deciding to "early terminate" and go back to the states). I guess it's pretty common after future site visit, but it still really sucks, particularly since two of the three people who left happened to be the closest volunteers (distance wise) to me. No more volunteer 5km away; no more volunteer in the next town either. I was pretty affected by people deciding to leave for a couple reasons; first, I've realized that because so much of this experience is a TOTAL mystery until whatever it is happens, I put a lot of emotional weight in to my expectations. In fact, they are really all I have to go off of, and they are what keep me sane sometimes (it's hard to not know what your life will be like in 2 weeks). So, I expected to have a buddy 5km away to walk to market with, to speak EE (effortless English) with, etc. etc... and in an instant, my entire imaginary world of expectations crumbled.

PC lesson #482: Do not invest so much (or anything) in your expectations. Often, they are just crap and fall apart and actually make you feel WORSE than the slight discomfort/anxiety you felt because you didn't know what to expect. So there.

After I got over the initial shock ("People can actually just LEAVE??"), I started to feel really wonderful about not wanting/being ready at all to leave (no offense). I mean... I haven't done anything yet. And... the community I went and visited is really expecting and wanting me to come. How could I not go back and at least try? I have the luxury of picking up and leaving whatever challenges of daily life I get next to for the next two years whenever I want. The people I am going to be living with don't have that choice. So... to not even show my face again seems (what's the word).... wrong? Some volunteers suggested that I request a site change so that I can be closer to other volunteers, but it's not like my community's need for a volunteer is going anywhere just because TWO other volunteers bailed. On the contrary, now there are THREE (at least) organizations that are expecting help and only one of me. I can't WAIT to go back, to be honest... and I hate to sound like such a cheerleader, but really. I want to show these communities that I am really serious about being here... and that I really consider myself lucky to be working with them... and that I'm not just going to leave because it's hard.

Having said that... I have NO idea how I'm going to get all my stuff to site now, particularly without any travel buddies. But... hey. I'll figure it out. I'm a fighter. :) It's weird that other people leaving made me feel so good (not initially, obviously, but after the fact)-- now it just seems much more real to be here. Knowing that I can leave, easily, at any time (by choice) makes me really excited and happy about my choice, every day, to stick it out. Ha. I'm such a cheese ball. Mmmm. Cheese. God. I miss cheese. *sigh.

I toured the Nairobi Peace Corps office today. It was.... an office... in Nairobi.... for the Peace Corps. Good. Good. I did score a couple books from the volunteer book collection-- among others, I'm going to read "marathon training for dummies." I figure if I can become a good runner in Kenya, I'll be unstoppable at home. Who knows.

Other than that, I think I need another three hour matatu ride to think of more to post (this one is too long already). I will be back in Kitui tomorrow, so... I'll try to post more this week. Thank you, all of you for all your emails of support-- you have no idea how much they mean to me. They really do make my days (especially on days when I get followed and laughed at by groups of school children. I went to church with my family to be nice, and even at CHURCH I was like the village freak. At church. I thought I would be safe. Alas, no. Who knew?).

I hope all is well. Much love.

H

An update...

2007-07-09T04:08:00.000-07:00

I made it back in one peice from my future site visit. I actually only spent one day at my site--the rest of my week was spent in transit (literally). So... yeah. I'm never leaving my site. :) Just kidding.

We left Nairobi around noon on Wednesday (our bus left 3 hours late) and 9 hours later had made it to Kisumu (this was due to the fact that the roads in Kenya are unlike any roads I have EVER experienced. The ride is supposed to take about 4 hours I was told...). Anyway, because it was already late, we stayed the night in Kisumu and left really early on Thursday to catch a 2 hour matatu to Bumala. Once we got to Bumala, we got on another matatu, and 45 minutes later arrived at my town, where we got on boda bodas (bikes) and were taken a few more kms to my compound. I was met along the way by a group of women from my compound who were clapping and singing and dancing (apparently Lous like to sing and dance).... so I hopped off the boda boda and danced and sang all the way back to our compound. It was SO my style... we were laughing and in general making a scene (they later remarked that they are "so blessed to have been brought a happy person").

My set up is pretty sweet-- my house really is HUGE... huge sitting room, huge bedroom... my very own choo.... and the compuond I'm on is HUGE, too. There are about 5 houses, a jikoni (kitchen building) and it's all surrounded by shamba. My Baba, two of his wives, several of his (15) children and some other people all live on the compound, so... I'm surrounded by people. And some cows. There are also beautiful streams in the area with huge boulders in them.

I only stayed over night (the next day we went back to Kisumu), but from what I gathered, my life will be pretty sweet. Really rural, a bit isolated, but really sweet.

I'm getting booted off the net (story of my life).... promise to continue the saga ASAP.

Love and miss,
H

The West is the Best!

2007-07-03T06:27:00.000-07:00

Big news: for the next two years, I'll be posted in Western (province), near(ish) the towns of Busia and Bumela (I think that's what it's called)!! I know that's kind of a big area, but... I'm somewhere a little off the beaten path in that general area. Ah! The past couple days, all of the trainees in my class and I have been in Nairobi for a supervisor's workshop-- we all now know where our sites are and who are supervisors are! I'm working with a women's group that was started in 2005; I'll be doing peer education and counseling for PLWAs. I'll also probably do some nutrition related things for PLWAs (and perhaps branch in to home based care options for PLWAs). Tomorrow I am actually going to my site (I'll get to see my community, my house, etc), so I'll have more of an idea of what life will be like when I get back to Kitui on Sunday!

It is really nice to know (generally, at least) where I'll be, though it will I'm really close to Uganda, which is awesome-- there is talk that we'll go rafting on the Nile, in which case, my location is prime. :) My house, from the description I got, is "really big" (I don't know what that means); mud/brick with an iron sheet roof; it's on a family compound; I have my own choo and bafu; no electricity; a bore hole 5 minutes away; market 1km away (close!); public transport 1/2km away (closer); AND I'll be getting my own bike, which apparently is KEY. My supervisor described the climate as "friendly," wet and hot. The closest volunteer to me is 5km away, so that's not too bad, either. Other than that, I really don't know much at all, but I will let you all know as soon as I do!

I will be at site until Saturday morning, when all the volunteers in Western, Nianza and... other places... are going in to Kisumu for a crazy PC pool party. Should be pretty crazy.

I had an INCREDIBLE cheeseburger last night.... and a chocolate banana milkshake... real coffee this morning... ahhh, Nairobi life. I am missing sukuma wiki and ugali a little, but... I have a feeling I'll be able to take care of that this week.

More to come! xoxoxo, H

2007-06-30T01:19:00.000-07:00

Alright. So. Breakfast. White bread and margarine. Fruit from the shamba (farm) also... usually bananas. Yum.

Monday through Friday I have language class from 8 until 11. Some days, me and three other volunteers in my village have class at the shamba accross the road; some days we wak to the next village (about 3-4km) so that we can have more time for language before technical session. From 11-1, we usually have a technical session with about 10 other volunteers from surrounding villages. We talk about... mmm... nutrition for PLWA (people living with AIDS), water purification, community entry techniques, etc... and then we usually walk to town (another 2-3km) for lunch. After lunch, we meet again for another hour or two of language and then I either go back to town (if I want to get groceries or check my email), meet other volunteers for a beer, or just go home. Anything I do after class in the afternoon must be completed by around 5:30 so that I can walk home before it's dark.

Usually when I get home, Mama and Baba are busy on the shamba (after having worked at their respective schools from around 8 in the morning until 4 or 5); I always jump right in and offer to help Mama cook dinner (which, when you're using a coal jiko, fire and sometimes gas, can take up to 4 hours). My Mama is incredible in the kitchen-- she sits on a tiny wooden stool about 6 inches off the ground and is so graceful, moving back and forth from pot to pot (on the floor), chopping things using her hand as a cutting board and not spilling or dropping a... drop. I've never seen her cut herself or burn herself, for that matter... but every night, she chops--tomatoes, potatoes, carrots, onions-- and picks up pots of boiling water, milk, stew, vegetables, WHATEVER with her bare hands. It blows my mind.

We usually sit down to dinner by 8 or 8:30... at that point, it's BLACK outside (though the sky lately has been beautifully painted with stars) and we are cooking by lamp light. My house has a few solar powered bulbs, so when it's been sunny, we can use those (only one at a time, though). We eat infront of the (solar battery powered) TV. We only get one channel-- KBC, Channel 1-- so... that is what we watch at, as I mentioned the other day, a ridiculous volume. Still don't know why.

Mamas in Kenya REALLY like to feed guests, so... whatever we eat, it is imperative that I eat at least two heaping bowls full... and I have to drink at least one cup of Chai afterwords. Baba keeps telling me that Chai is "just water", but... something about the whole milk (from our shamba's cow) and sugar makes it pretty heavy. Call me crazy :) The food in Kenya is "sweet" as we say ("delicious", "tasty", etc = "sweet" in Kenya); it's totally fresh and natural (before it is fried in vegetable oil and served with a pile of starch). Starch is HUGE here, and I'm understanding now that it kind of has to be, because everyone walks 10-20k a day.

Anyway, I usually go to sleep by 9:30 because, well.... that's what there is to do after dinner. Then I wake up, and do some version of it all over again.

I'm about to get booted off the i-net (again), so I have to wrap it up. I'm off to Nairobi tomorrow (wahoo!) and we find out our future sites on Monday (eek!). I will be back next week with a lot more information (hopefully) about what my life will be like for the next two years!

Love and miss,
H

About that Kiswahili...

2007-06-27T00:13:00.000-07:00

Er.... I just BOMBED my practice oral exam in Kiswahili. Something about being asked questions I can't answer in English ("Why did you join...? What will you do when you get back...?") threw me off... and then I started forgetting things like "I am..." and "I have...". Awesome. At least I'll be able to show HUGE improvement when I have my real exam in four weeks. :)

I forgot at the beginning of this blog to post the disclaimer from my PC training manual, so, for the record: THE CONTENTS OF THIS BLOG ARE MY OPINION AND DO NOT REFLECT THE OPINION(S), FEELINGS OR POSITIONS OF THE US PEACE CORPS OR GOVERNMENT. (That's not it exactly, but I don't have it in front of me. I'll fix it next time.)

I also didn't post my address last time, if anyone wants to send me a letter, so here it is... at least until August 2nd:

My name, PCT
PO Box 30518
Nairobi, Kenya

Some people were curious about a typical day in the life of a PC trainee.... or at least in MY life, so I will, as much as I can, try to give you an idea of how I'm spending my days. I have yet to experience any two days that are the same, so it's hard to choose a "typical" day to describe, but I'll split the difference(s) and take creative liberties for the sake of.... you. :)

On week days, I usually wake up between 6 and 7 am (7am is known as 1 in Kenyan time... the hours are counted from sun up to sun down. Makes sense, no? So 8am is actually 2, etc etc.), usually because the roosters, cows and dogs are going NUTS and/or because Mama is boiling water for bathing and/or Baba is blasting the Kamba radio station in the next room (the walls don't go up all the way to the roof, so I can hear everything, expecially when it's crazy loud. Any multi media, it seems, must be listened to at an unbelievable volume.... I have yet to figure out why...). If the bafu is unoccupied, I get my basin and fill it partially with boiling water, then the rest of the way with cold water. I splash it on myself, never as successfully as my Kenyan family members do, but I'm learning. (I use a cup to wash my hair-- so mzungu like).

Breakfast every morning consists of white bread with margarine and Chai.

Uh oh. Looks like I need to go get fitted for a bike. Ha. Soooo.... I'll keep you all on the edge of your seats ("What happens after breakfast?!?!?!?!?").... promise I'll continue soon.

Xoxo
H

More from Kitui-land...

2007-06-23T02:51:00.000-07:00

Saturday in Kitui, and I actually found and open computer at an internet cafe. I think the trick is having absolutely no expectations and being willing to wait for up to 3 hours for a computer (somewhere) to open up. It worked. :) Since I'm not at the post office, I am actually sitting in a comfy chair... the mouse works, AND the keyboard isn't all crusty. My fingers aren't getting the workout they would there (I don't have to exert much force to push the keys down), but I guess I'm ok with that. For today.

The weeks are starting to fly by here which is both weird and exciting to me. I'm thinking it must mean that life seems more normal to me now. I'm not shocked by many of the things that used to make (and or break) my days when I first arrived. Making babies cry is not out of the ordinary, in fact, I'm pretty good at it, but I don't take it personally (some babies who have never seen wazungu are terrified). I look forward to my bucket baths (twice a day) and reading by lamp at night is a wonderful way to fall asleep (SAFETY NOTE: DO NOT FALL ASLEEP with a kerosene lamp lit. When I said "lamp" up there I actually meant "torch" which actually means "flashlight" here).

Kiswahili is coming together-- still pole pole, as we say. This week we have a mock language exam. That could be sobering, but I'm feeling good. :) Next weekend we will be in Nairobi, and then we're off to visit our future sites for a few days. I will have a lot to report on when I get back from seeing where I'll be for the next two years (and roughly what I'll be doing). For now, I'm just excited to find out.

If anyone is interested in sending me packages, feel free-- I love getting mail. I am allowed to recieve packages duty free for the first 90 business days that I'm here (that gets me to September sometime)... just know that things you send may get opened (to be inspected) and or opened (to be jacked). I have heard that writing things like "Jesus is watching you", and drawing crosses, etc. and writing in RED ink helps deter people (Kenya is a pretty religious country), but don't send anything that you'd be really sad about me not getting.

Hope to hear more from you all soon! I've been able to check my email pretty regularly, so feel free that way, too. Miss and love you all,

H :)

At long last...

2007-06-18T06:26:00.000-07:00

Ah! I have 17 minutes to tell you all about everything that is my life. Um.... wow.

So, I'm sitting in the Kitui P.O.... I've found that this is the easiest place to access the i-net... but you never know how many people will be in line if/or the internet will be up and running. I guess I should start by saying that I am GREAT... and loving Kenya. I have already had my share of ups and downs.... it feels like I've been here forEVER.... not just three weeks. It's insane when every day brings hundreds of experiences unlike any you've had EVER before in your life... it makes every day seem like an eternity. In a surreal, but good way (usually).

I'm living in Kitui at the moment... actually in a nearby village (about 6 K from town). I live on a farm (shamba) with a Mama a Baba and one sister (she's 9). Both my parents are teachers at nearby schools... it's not common that both parents work, but I think it is awesome. My Mama and Baba are the hardest working people I've ever met... they cultivate land in their SPARE time. It is inspiring and just... exausting, even to watch. I take bucket baths, cook with charcoal and wood and gas sometimes... use electricity that is solar powered and absolutely love it. My Mama says that her life (in Africa) is primitive compared to life in "my place" (the US)... but I can't help but appreciate the way I'm living here. It is different. SO different... but very involved. Raw. I can't even explain it or put my finger on it (yet)...

We have language and culture training sessions pretty much every day M-F in a small group (there are 4 of us who live in the same village)... twice a week all 50 volunteers in my training group get together near town for big sessions. Kiswahili is coming along... pole pole, as we say. It's hard because everyone here speaks Kikamba primarily. Everyone understands Kiswahili, but around the house, all I hear is Kikamba.

Ah! Two minutes.

I promise I will be better about updating this thing, now that I know I can get internet (maybe). Don't be strangers! Post, write, email... call (I have a cell phone, don't ask me how)... incoming calls are free... so... 254-723-061-235. Call me!!!

I am thinking of all of you and hoping that life in the fast lane is treating you well. More to come. Promise.

xoxoxoxoxo,
H

2007-05-16T07:55:00.000-07:00

The fam... gotta love it. Everyone has been so supportive of my wanting and deciding to go to Africa. Despite his fear of heights, my Dad (yeah... he's to my right) is planning to climb kilimanjaro in summer/fall 2008. My mom (to his right) is planning to drink beers at base camp. I'm still on the fence. My bro (to my left) is working like crazy at his restaurant in Atlanta, but he'll be there in spirit.

I'm basically packed and definitely ready to be done with the "gettig ready" phase of this experience... I've had way too much time to second guess what I'm bringing (and not bringing). It IS pretty liberating, though... leaving behind a lot of things I would think to bring, as well as the mentality that goes with all of it. This is a completely different ball game (if you can even call it that). One that I am so lucky and excited to be a part of. :)

Almost!!

2007-05-01T08:58:00.000-07:00

So... staging has been pushed UP to May 21st... it's CRAZY! The countdown has really begun. I'll be in Kenya starting the 24th. It's hard to believe... there's a lot of life organizing that has to be done before then!

Thank you, out there, for caring about what I'm up to (and for still being my friend despite the horrible, self involved title of my blog... I don't really think that I'm at all like Barbie... what can I say, I took creative liberties. )

Hope to be in touch! Love, H

Not Quite...

2007-01-08T12:47:00.000-08:00

I got a little excited whilst reading a current PCV's blog about Kenya and decided to jump the gun and create my very own blog so that I can keep people posted once I get to Kenya. Since that isn't going to happen until May 25th ish... I guess I gave birth to this blog prematurely. I also said whilst up there, but hey... you can't win 'em all. I probably won't post anything else until May, but then it's ON.