Viva Kenya

I can't get enough. My internal dialogue is in half English- half Kiswahili, I walk to school in the morning next to chickens, and if I don’t say hello to strangers it’s considered rude. I relish in my memories of running home through the pouring rain in a sudden downpour lasting 45 minutes, and that I relate more to my African roommates than other white people here.

I’ve been settled for a few weeks now, and my life has become a plight to accomplish as much as possible throughout my last two months in Africa. I moved in with a famous award-winning Kenyan music artist, Neema, her brother and two cousins, and things have looked up ever since. Her house happens to be right next door to a public primary school, and it couldn’t be more perfect. I realized how much I’d missed teaching in the past couple months and really wanted to get back into a school. So the day after I moved in, I walked myself into the Head Teacher’s office of Mbagathi Primary School and introduced myself. I let them know of my experience teaching up in Nyeri and within a matter of minutes I was being introduced to the students and had been scheduled for 14 lessons per week. It was a completely serendipitous encounter because they had been looking for a Math teacher the entire term. A 6th grade class had been without any teacher at all for the past month, and a 7th grade class hadn’t been taught Math since January. I was so thrilled they had a need for me, and that I could actually make some progress with these students. I’ve been there a couple weeks now and the inspiration in my life is back. The kids have been absolutely amazing, and are really doing well. They have benefited from the supplies donated to my trip, and can’t wait to use my sharpener for their pencils every morning I walk in the door.

My schedule is as follows: I wake up five days a week at 7am and start the coffee, that is if we have running water that day. Where I use to wake up to the peak of Mount Kenya starting back at me, I now wake up to the sounds of children laughing and playing next door at my school. From 8am to 11am I’m in class, teaching Math to my 6th and 7th grade classes. My 6th grade class has 69 students, and my 7th grade class has 60. They wear torn forest green uniforms, and if they haven’t paid the 80 Shillings (about one dollar) for their exams, they’re not allowed to enter the classroom. If it’s a Monday, after class I head into Kibera, the slum within walking distance, and conduct Empowerment classes to my two dedicated schools. The kids make me promise a hundred times that I’ll be back the following Monday. If it’s a Tuesday, Wednesday or Thursday, after school I head to ZanaA’s office in Hurlingham. I take that time to work on either website functionality, business plan review, HR related issues or brainstorming on project execution. The founder of this company is a machine. She’s a 31 year old graduate of Harvard University and from Greenwich, CT. She has been living in Kenya for 9 years, working here for 11, and has her brain switched on 24/7. She eats, drinks, and breathes the numerous projects of ZanaA, and is absolutely brilliant. She’s one of the most ambitious and proven performers of anyone I’ve met, and an inspiration. Each day I work with her I’m discovering a new project she’s spearheading, formulating, or involved with. I digress. On Fridays I have the afternoon off, but it’s usually spent reading one of the African history books I’m using to write an article to publish in the History section of ZanaA’s website. These books are phenomenal, and specifically analyze Africa’s contribution and influence on Western religions and civilization. I feel like I’m living a real life Black Studies course.

I have seven weekends left in Kenya. My birthday weekend will be spent with friends at a big house up in the Ngong Hills. These are all ex-pats my age living in Kenya, some of the most fascinating and generous people I’ve ever met. Another weekend will be spent hiking all seven Ngong Hills, another visiting Nyeri and Karatina, another in Diani Beach, another in Kajiado (Masaiiland) to visit Neema’s parents in their village, and the rest soaking in as much as possible before I leave.

Tomorrow is my birthday. I am turning 25 years old and I can’t think of a better place in which I’d like my life to be. While I’m missing my family and friends more than ever, I know it’s in the most trying of times that we grow the most. I am happy…I am truly, unexplicably happy, and I’m finally remembering what it was like to feel this way.

Gonga'd

Dad: "You've got us on edge again Jen...just planning on living in South Africa for awhile...no big deal..."
Mom: "So Jenny, if you turn up missing, like...who looks for you?"

Today was national "Don't Pick Up the White Girl Day" for all bus and matatu drivers. I walked three kilometers and waited two hours just to get a lift. Then on the way back home I stepped in what looked to be dried dirt and sunk six inches deep into mud wearing flip flops. As if it wasn't enough, later on I walked through the gate to our house and scraped my arm on the protruding nail normally used to keep the gate shut, so I look like I was clawed by an overgrown mountain gorilla in the mist. It was a day of being gonga'd for certain. In Kenya when you get taken advantage of, whether you're overcharged, or just plain screwed, it's called being "gonga'd." Most newcomers are often getting gonga'd by Kenyans, and shamelessly. It's like this game and they like to laugh at you...lightheartedly, of course.

Last time I was in Kibera in an Empowerment Group, a 17 year old student asked if I could help her with her relationship problems. I didn't realize at the time that high school dilemmas are slightly more complicated than 10 and 11 year old kids and their problems. Seventh grade students ask if they should like boys. Twelfth grade students ask what they should do if their boyfriends threaten to commit suicide if they break up with them. Not to mention I haven't had the best track record with past boyfriends, so I'm pretty sure this makes me the absolute least qualified individual to answer these inquiries. The 17 year old looked as if she was about to break down in tears as she explained to me that her ex-boyfriend has been stalking her new boyfriend(both 24) and threatening to kill him if she doesn't break up with him. He's not only pulled a gun on the new boyfriend, but it's fairly realistic that he'd actually do it. He's killed people before, and has even threatened this girl's mother after showing up at her house. The police won't do anything about it even if they were notified, and the only reason the boy hasn't done it yet is because he wants to kill the boyfriend in front of this 17 year old girl. So what do I say? She asks me what she should do, and people around us don't even sound surprised...like it's common. No one is here to protect her, it's not like I can offer her anything of the sort, and even other field officers just shake their head and tell me that's the way it is. There's really only so much we can do, and no more.

On a lighter note, ZanaAfrica is going so well. I'm working on editing the website content and layout(some changes have already been posted) and I'm taking a look at the business plan today. Later I'll be in the field working with the kids again, praying that the 17 yr old is in her seat...P.s. Check it out...I'm famous: www.zanaafrica.org/zinner.asp?pcat=people&cat=staff and please look around the rest of the site too!