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Hello, I saw one of your posts about how you attend USIU in Kenya. I was thinking about attending that college & I would love to know your views about it. Are there other Universities in Kenya that you would recommend? PS. I'm a Senior in high school in the US.

I cannot tell you enough how bad USIU is. The administration is terrible, professors are not qualified and the students are lazy pathetic and make group work a pain. Rather then come to Kenya for all 4 years, go to university in the states and study abroad during your time. There is a good program at St. Lawrence University as well as mine at American that allows you to go even if you do not attend the school.

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Slamarama Jama

Well I was holding off on this post for some media but since it isn't coming fast enough....cough cough Alec, I am not going to keep you in the dark.

So the past week and a half has been a lot of WTF moments but in a really cool way.

First up to bat is my new budding career as a Kenyan slam poet (Yeah you might want to reread that last line in case you are to drunk or high to actually believe what came out of my keyboard). So how did I go from closeted poet to budding star....let me explain. So 2 Fridays ago, a bunch of us decided to go out to an Ethiopian place for cheap food and to support Sarabi who was playing the opening act. After hearing that the event was taking sign ups for a slam, the power of drunk suggestion got to me so of course I stupidly signed up. Now the thing is in a slam which I did not know until right before going on is that it consists of three rounds and you cannot use any notes. Therefore in my state of less then perfect soberness, I ended up cramming "Song of the Weaverbirds", "Fuck the Box" and "Perspective Pt. 2" all in my head from my friend's Iphone. Somehow I managed to kick a lot of ass and even win round 1 and ended up in 2nd place- 1 point shy from 1st. So somehow a mzungu doing so well in his first slam at apparently one the county's biggest slam events warranted enough attention that I am getting interviewed on Kenyan radio April 14th. Who knew coming to Kenya would make me fall in love with slam poetry and make me realize that my material is actually really good.

Secondly, as of an hour ago, I have officially accepted a summer internship position with Vestergaard Frandsen- the Lifestraw Company.It really has come full circle that an idea I learned about during my high school Model UN days has  turned into me working for them on their real life projects. They liked my background in climate communication so much, they created a post just for me which will allow me to work on their Carbon For Water Project for 10 weeks. Also sometime in Sept/Oct I am going to be sent back to Kenya for an all expense paid week trip to see how the work I will be doing is translating into actual field operations. I am really stoked to get started

Lastly, tomorrow marks the start of my 5 day safari to the Massai Mara. So when I come back you all will be getting a timely and nice recap of the most touristy thing I will be doing when I am in Kenya along with some (hopefully) cool pictures. 

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31 More Days Under The Equator

April 22nd 2012...in exactly 1 month, I will be boarding a plane to New York (via Dubai) and my Kenyan journey will have finished just as quickly as it started. Honestly I am shock that the end is so soon and while in some ways I feel it is time to go back home and to the country that I love and often love to hate but I know once I step onto that plane, I will never be able to have the experiences I have had over the past semester again.

While it is a little early to look back and reflect on my journey as a whole, I do kind of feel stuck in a limbo as sorts as my summer and fall plans start solidifying  and my time in Kenya is winding down. I always have a habit of looking forward to things rather then stopping to enjoy the present so I am going to try and work on that for the last few weeks I am here. It is kind of hard to do though when you have international job interviews every few days or so.

Since the end of my Politics of Culture class, my days are now spent in class on Monday and Wednesday (Swahili with Fred :)...but USIU is just as a drag as it always has been) and working at Ecosandals Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday. While all of this does keep me busy, I wish I had some time to just relax a little and soak in parts of Nairobi and Kenya that I might have missed otherwise. But since I have been a little absentee on my life since rural week let me give you the quick recap of what has been going on in my life since I came back.

- Written a 25 page final project of poetry and analysis for Politics of Culture class which I hope to revise and expand upon and try and get published when I come back to the states

-Working on a group paper for a class of mine at USIU...where copy/paste and no citations seems to be acceptable practices for students...kill me now

-Lost 25 pounds (since the start of January not in the past 3 weeks don't worry)

- Booked a Safari over Easter Weekend (our only break) so I get to play tourist at the Massai Mara and have my parents pick up the tab as my 21st birthday present (thank you for the surprise last night mom)

- Planning the 21st birthday blowout which will be an insane celebration after having 2 finals on that day

Countdown of what is on the agenda

- 14 days to Safari

- 20 days to 21

- 25 days until my last fnal

-26 days until Mombasa

-31 days until I leave

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Song of the semester...stuck in all of our heads

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My friend who liked my poetry so much decided to post my final project on her blog. Take a look and tell me what you think.

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Pictures from Rural Week.

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Rural Week In Review

Well the big week has come and gone; Rural Week. Unless I have a mysterious ghostwriter somewhere in the world, my writing of this post proves that I have gone a full week without running water and electricity and have survived. WARNING: THIS WILL BE A LONG POST

On Saturday we all left our cozy apartments bright and early and headed off to the bus station to go from Nairobi to Machakos. Rather then leaving on a set schedule, buses in Kenya leave when the bus is full. So while we all got on the bus at 8 am, we did not leave until 9:30. Also, instead of being able to get some peace, quiet and sleep during the waiting game, we were constantly bombarded with hawkers boarding our bus trying to sell us everything from knockoff watches to food and drink. At Machakos we then boarded a private matatu and headed off to Nyumbani Village for 2 days to get our bearings in the Kenyan boonies.

The village is actually an artificially constructed center which acts as an all inclusive orphanage for children with many of them having HIV/Aids. The village contains a church, school, health center, and activity fields. Children are split into houses of 10 each with a grandparent caring for the kids. Other then taking a sustainability tour of the place and playing some sports with the kids, we really did not do much other then play endless rounds of mafia and various card games. Also having everyone stuck together for 48 hours adjusting to a new environment was really a bad idea and by the end of our stay, I think we were all at each others throats.

After eating our final breakfast on Monday, we packed up our things and headed off to our rural homestays in Katangi and Kyua (pronounced Chua) about 40 minutes away. When we arrived in Kyua, all those staying in the village got kicked out immediately at the chief's house and waited to head off with their host families who were there waiting. The sudden departure of half our group shook some of us a little bit as the reality of our situation set in. We would be on our own, miles away from each other, and would need to call upon everything we have learned up to this point in order to make it through. Very soon after leaving Kyua, we dropped two more of us off along the side of the road before the remaining 5 of us were brought to the District Officer (something similar to the mayor of a county), to be officially welcomed to the town and asked to sign their visitors book ( a big thing in Kenya). Following a security escort back to the local counselors house, we waited patiently over a cup of chai for our host families to arrive and take us off into the sunset for the next 7 days. As luck would have it, everyone got picked up except for me, leaving me all by my lonesome with Lynsey, Tony- Lynsey's Boyfriend, and our two African attaches; Osewe and Nick. Rather then being completely cruel and unusual and leaving me to find my host family on my own, Lynsey- for once, showed compassion and took the AU gang and I to my family's house. In continuing the great luck I was having, no one was home when we showed up. Luckily though after a few minutes, my family started to pop out of the woodwork-literally, and welcomed me to their compound with open arms.

My family consisted of 3 people Jeremiah Raphael- the father, Joyce- the mother, and Mercy- their 25 year old daughter. While those were the only ones who lived at home, Jeremiah and Joyce had 5 other children-3 boys and 2 girls, who ranged in age from 13-35. Somehow, I came to realize over the course of the week that besides the obvious socioeconomic differences and color of skin, my host parents were exactly like my mom and dad back home. Jeremiah was a former retired air force instructor who was well read and could talk about any topic ranging from religion,education reform, to even American conspiracy theories. Like my dad, Jeremiah liked to be on time and have everything planned and rather then honking the car horn to get my mom, Raphi and I out of the house when we needed to go somewhere, Jeremiah would just leave without you if you were late. My mother Joyce just needed to be Jewish to be an exact replica of my mom. At mealtimes she would never let me have a empty plate and would always offer me everything that she had when I came looking for a snack. Whenever I wanted to do something that members of the normal population would consider stupid and crazy, Joyce would always voice her concern and overworry- I think this part matches my mom exactly. While i did not have a picture of my parents to show them, I did call my mom and let her talk to Jeremiah. Like usual my mom told Jeremiah to look out for me and make sure I came back in one piece and just like I realized, Jeremiah made the connection that my mom and Joyce are the same person.

During the week at Jeremiah's, I was kept beyond busy ( a much different experience then most of the people in the group). The second day there, I was drafted to help build a new latrine for the church. For some reason, Jeremiah thought I was weak so it surprised him when I could carry 40 pound stones and push wheel barrels of sand to make cement. One thing that boggled his mind and all those who watched was my use of the Lifestraw on the construction site. Since it was a good 95 degrees that day and there was no clean water for me, I drank from a barrel filled with sandy and muddy water which was to be used to mix the cement. Though everyone at first I was completely nuts and were trying to stop me from drinking, there jaws literally dropped when they saw the water I spit out of my mouth to be clear and drinkable and the water blown out of the filter to be as dark as milk chocolate. Honestly this moment was one of my personal highlights for the week. As I said in the last post, I first learned about the Lifestraw as a high schooler in Model UN and being able to take the product from a theoretical solution that means nothing at a simulation to bringing it into the field and have it change the lives of people who need it is quite a remarkable journey. 

Wednesday brought market day to Katangi with what seemed like the whole community coming out to buy and sell wares. To give you an idea of what a rural market day is like, try to imagine Wall Mart but with each section having stalls and it all being outside. There was a livestock market, fruit section, pop up bars, clothing sellers, toys for the young kids, and anything else you could think of. While us in the states simply go to the market buy our things and leave, here in Katangi, market day is a full day excursion where you socialize, catch up on the latest gossip, and of course eat nyama choma and drink Tusker. On our list for the day included buying a goat for our Saturday party, getting vegetables for the week, and I needing to buy a present for my host family. On our way we stopped into a shop owned by Joyce's sister and brother in law and had a great conversation about life in the states and African politics from a man who was thirty  years out of date (he thought Pan Am was still a functioning airline and that East Germany was being repressed by the West). That night after we got back, I had one of the most delicious meals I have ever had which included food from the farm, what we bought at the market, and it was all vegetarian. To say that I have ever had a carrot that was that sweet or nutritious would be a complete lie. You could feel the vitamins and minerals course through your veins on its way to your stomach.

For the rest of the week after that, I was mainly tasked with helping out around the farm and was able to try things I would never be able to experience back home. So yes while hoeing some land to get rid of plants would not be at the top of list, herding goats is a throwback to a simpler time and with me wearing my Keffeyiah, all i needed was a stick and burning bush to turn into a modern day Moses. Also learning to do things in a new simpler way really makes you appreciate things back home. Cooking over an open fire takes at least 3 hours to feed a family of four and washing clothes by hand makes you really miss a washing machine and dryer. The one break I got from helping around was my visit to the local primary school. Since most of the kids in the village have never seen a mzungu before, having one visit their school was like having a Justin Beiber pay a visit to a elementary school girls commune-if those exist. Literally all of the children dropped what they were doing and came over to the class I was talking with to simply watch me. When it came time to meet with some of the teachers though their attitude to me was much more civil. After the usual questions about me and where I lived, they got interested in asking about the role of the teacher in the states and how they were viewed in society. Even though Kenyan teachers are highly looked upon, they are usually paid only 300-400 American Dollars a month. The other big question I was asked which really took me aback was about the Lifestraw. Apparently news of my Jesus like miracle has spread all over town and they were begging me to tell them how they could get their hands on a pair.

However like all good things rural week did come to an end. On Saturday, everyone's host family, some local celebrities, and Jeremiah's eldest daughter along with her 7 month old son came by the house for a celebration filled with freshly killed goat ( I butchered the ribs), chicken, vegetables from the farm and market, Tusker and the local brew Karibo which kind of tasted like mojito mixed with a kamikaze. We all danced-terribly, endured endless speeches, and exchanged gifts with our families which for me included a handwoven basket for Mercy, a kanga for Joyce, and 1500 shillings for Jeremiah which were to be used as payment for his first few months of electricity which he was hoping to be able to afford within the next year. After seeing the purpose of what the money was for, Jeremiah got really water eyed and gave me a good ol hug which like everything else about the week reminded me of the ones my dad usually gives out after I come home from college after a long time. In return, Jeremiah gave me a handcrafted ebony water buffalo which looks really nice and since I made such a big impact on his brother-in-law (aka East Germany still being repressed guy), he gave me a hand carved wooden ostrich which is quite beautiful but REALLY REALLY delicate. Then after another cup of Karibo, we all said our goodbyes and parted ways back to civilization.

After having some time to look back on the week, I really am shocked that somehow it became my favorite week so far in Kenya and one of the most unforgettable experiences in my life. While I was really psyched for the chance to do this sitting on my couch in the states looking at abroad programs, right before I was dropped off I was beyond anxious for the week; how would I survive, would my Swahili be good enough to communicate with my family, would I even like my family. Lucky for me all these fears were calmed and not only did I survive, I thrived. While at times Nairobi might show the worst of Kenya, Katangi showed some of the best. After all the talks about how corruption, the government and even foreign aid agencies have destroyed development, seeing the difference that can still be made at the micro level in rural areas with ideas as simple as just giving a Lifestraw or expanding out electricity has recharged my passion and pursuit of this field. I came to Kenya hoping to not only get some field work in development and have an adventure but to figure out some questions that I had about myself. After this past week, I know I have grown leaps and bounds as a person with the knowledge that I have lived on so little. I really do not know how to explain it but sitting down outside Jeremiah's house listening to the song of weaver birds it just hit me that I was at peace with myself and with the world around me. I simply feel like a different person; one who is more open and mature about a lot of things in my life. I can only hope that this new found wave of energy carries me through the second half of the program and stays with me when I return home to the states. Even though I know that when I return home the transition back might be scary and quite long, I can say with much confidence that whatever happens, I will be ready to embrace what comes out the other side.

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A little acoustic action from Sarabi and the Eastlandoz before their headlining performance at the KARI Music Festival.

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The Lifestraw; a little gem I found awhile ago for Model U.N which proved to be a great solution over and over again. I never thought I would actually get a chance to actually use it in the field but I will get that chance and be able to hand them out to the locals in Ukambani during rural week. I will go into a bigger post about them when I come back.

You can check out the product and the company (Vestergaard Frandsen) here

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How The Other Side Lives

So once again my apologies for lack of updates. This past week I have been stuck in midterms and finals for Lynsey's class which has been both laughable- writing a 6th grade style book report for my African lit class, and stressful- 2  2-3 page single spaces responses to a choice of 6 questions. However before insanity took hold of me, I was able to spend time outside Nairobi-in Karen and get to experience how the ex-pats and whites live.

Just as a quick reminder, Nairobi is split literally down the middle with an east west divide. The more east you go the poorer it gets and the more west you go; that's right, the richer it gets. So at USIU a bunch of us befriended a 4th generation white Kenyan named Alex. Alex is a really chill guy and also plays professional rugby so me and a few people went out to watch him play. While the quality of play this time was not as good as the last game I went to- I was told that the previous teams I saw use ex-international players, the Nosedies Rangers broke their losing streak and won. Like any typical rugby victory, the team-and us, went back to their home clubhouse were a large amount of rowdy partying, drinking songs, and of course drinking ensued. After having a few too many Tuskers too soon, I was quite tipsy to say the least. Soon after the celebration died down, Alex, myself, and the two girls I came with got food at a Western style bar and grill where i proceeded to scarf down my first cheese steak in almost two months. 

When it comes to visiting western places, I have come to realize that the thing that overwhelms me the most is choice. I have become so used to having the same 4 or 5 options for every Kenyan meal that all the sudden being presented with what seems like limitless options is quite overwhelming. While it is nice to be able to choose from more then 5 things, I have come to question just how important it really is to have multiple choices for every decision we make. My lack of choice in Kenya in regards to all things has really let me clear my mind and while western accommodations might be a nice upgrade, the lack of clutter has really let me sit down and smell the roses so to speak. Rather then hurrying from class to a meeting and figuring out where I can fit people into my schedule for only 2 minutes, I really have had a chance to pull a mental detox and just relax about literally everything. This mellowing of this energy ball of a New Jersian is one trait I hope really sticks with me when I come home.

Back to story time......after dinner we ended up driving back to Alex's place to crash and spend the night. While I have really been exposed to mainly how the "typical African" lives, seeing this new side of Kenya was eye opening to say the least, Alex's house looks like a cross between Rainforest Cafe and the annals of a museum filled with artifacts and souvenirs from his parent's world travels. Seeing this for the first time at night kind of drunk-well more then kind of, really freaked me out and caused my mind to go all ADD on the place. I didn't know whether to concentrate on the barbed wire on the toilet seat- you heard me right, or the Ethiopian cow knife on the wall. However after getting a good night's sleep the house made a little more sense in the morning but still put my parent's mask collection to shame.

Soon after waking up and finishing brunch- and being provided more choices then I could imagine, we headed out to the pool for suntanning-or burning, and to swim. What really has struck me when being around foreigners in Kenya is just how little Americans are there. Even in Alex's compound, for the two hours we were poolside I met some Dutch, Swedish, and Malian, but no other American. 

Later in the day when we got back to Nairobi, me, Greg, and Leah sought out the mythical ex-pat American Ultimate Frisbee game. While out journey did lead us into a few false leads, we somehow managed to stumble onto the game only 30 minutes late and get some playing time in. Even though these guys might look old and out of shape, the one thing they got going for them is they are used to the altitude by now. After my first run down the field I was gasping for air since I am not used to running anywhere close to how high Nairobi is. Also even for them being a bit older-but still young at heart, the level of play was much better then I expected and got really physical. I walked away with a bruised shoulder bone which is still giving me some problems.

But this post will be the last real post for awhile. In 7 hours I get to spend my "spring break" in Ukambani which is basically bumblefuck Kenya. I will have no access to electricity and will be out of contact until March 4th. Expect some filler pre planned posts in the interm but the big recap of my journey will be posted sometime during the week of the 4th. Wish me luck and hopefully I still have clothes by the time I am done.

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A Look into my Final Project

Well hello again friends and strangers. If you are wondering why there have been a lack of updates lately, you can look no further to Safaricom-out internet provider, for being worse then any company I have had to deal with. I never thought I would say Dell customer service is better then anything....but I think I might just have to.

Rather then doing just another weekly recap of being bored at USIU, liking the AU classes, and my time at Ecosandals, I thought I would share with you the first selection from my final project. However as a quick heads up, I did crack my toenail in half and might have broken my pinkie toe.

Rather then simply write a boring 12-15 page paper like I would do for any other class,I have been allowed to write a collection of spoken word poetry detailing both the stories of those who live in the slums and my personal experience in allowing me to raise up issues such as poverty, the failing education system, stereotypes, cross cultural interaction and culture shock. While I am kind of behind on interviewing people and getting my thoughts down onto paper, I still have a month to pull it together to hopefully write somewhere between 12-15 peice. If anyone also has a suggestion for a title of the project, please let me know

The Mzungu Lives

For I am the stranger in the strange land

Never on the straight and narrow, always walking on the bumpy and curved

I yearn for adventure

Hoping to unearth some hidden truth about what I want to be

Since 50k of college isn't doing it for me

This time though, my eyes might have been bigger then what I can stomach

While my umbilical cord from home has been strained before

For the first time, it feels like it has been severed in two

While it might be long enough to cross the Eastern Seaboard

Two continents and a wide open ocean is just a little to far

While the bond still remains between me and my home

There is no one to right me up when I feel down, or turn a good day from one thats bad

I came into this land with an open mind

Hoping to unlock the secrets that have befuddled those who have come before my time

Yet every time I turn the key and unlock the door, two more pop up to take its place

Am I even making any progress or am I bound to be stuck in intellectual quicksand

Always moving forward but never getting anywhere

I feel lost wading through the swamp of the mysterious and unknown

While I try to let go of the rope from the past, 

I can't seem to find something new to latch onto and drag me out of here

Sometime I feel like my hands have been shackled together

Watching as I helplessly sink down to the ocean floor

But I am not afraid of hitting rock bottom, as I know I will rise up and become something more beautiful, and powerful, and intellectually skilled then before

Yet even when I cross the waters and return home the question still remains

Will I still be a stranger, and where's the strangeland; Kenya or the U.S.A.

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Check out the band The Eastlandoz who performed with Sarabi at the music festival. 

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High Above the Wazungu Tree

Well its that time again. Since my "enlightening" African Lit class continues to go over what is a character, it's as good a time as ever to post up my week in review.

By now you should have come to realize that my Mondays-Wednesdays are beyond boring with Tuesday being a slight reprieve since I do not have to go to USIU and can sleep in late till 9. As such let me skip the boring parts and move right on to Thursday.

Thursday marked the first day of my internship with Ecosandals. While the commute can be a little long- 2 Matatus and up to an hour and a half depending on traffic, the team is really fun to work with. After going through the usual parade of introductions with the team and talking to Mike-my boss, about my skills, he thought that the best thing to start me off on would be to make some of the sandals myself. While not one of my life goals, I can now feel a sense of solidarity with all those Chinese workers making Apple products for less then a dollar a day. Even though the Ecosandals website looks really nice, the conditions of the office and workshop were far from anything I could imagine. Less the size of my Berks apartment from last semester, the space was cramped, dimly lit, and had no ventilation. While the ventilation part would usually pose no problem, being around industrial glue all day kind of made me a bit woozy and Mike gave me an early lunch break to get back to normal. The only place for lunch around the office is right around where the block where for the next three months, my Thursday lunch will consist of beef stew, rice, cabbage, and chapati- Kenyan flatbread for the grand total of 155 shillings ($1.82). After lunch, the office basically takes a siesta for awhile just chilling out and talking and then moves on to lighter administrative work or starts prepping materials for the next day. Since Mike wants me out of the office at 3 or else I will be stuck in traffic for a good 2 or 3 hours, I really can not vouch for what else goes on for the last 2 hours of the work day.Next time though my official duties begin with me starting computer literacy classes with the staff so hopefully they can all work on company spreadsheets or type up documents by the time I leave.

After our extended Swahili class on Friday, our Politics of Culture class was cancelled by Lynsey as we were let out into Nairobi to conduct field research for our final project. Described by Lynsey as by far the most important aspect of the course, our final project for our Politics of Culture class requires us to either write a 12-15 page paper on any aspect of urban development or produce a creative project with a 6-8 page paper explaining how our project relates to urban development. While writing the longer paper might be the safer option- and subsequently more boring, I have decided to take the creative option and produce an anthology of spoken word poetry focusing on both the real life stories and experiences of people living in the slums and my some of the experiences I have had in Kenya. At the moment the title is still TBD-any ideas posted in the comments below will be considered.

Before I start interviewing individuals, I decided to pick the brains of people at an organization called SLUM TV about how they go about their work. While SLUM TV and I might use different mediums to express our ideas, I felt it would be an important fact finding mission if I was to understand the methodology behind how they get their stories, any advice for getting people to talk to me, and how I could best represent the people I am going to interview in the most realistic manner possible. Even though I can't remember conducting an interview with someone since a cub scout assignment in 3rd or 4th grade, the fact that it went for an hour and a half means that it probably went really well. On my way out, one of the guys at the station named Cosmo- not followed by Kramer, gave me an open invitation to give him a call anytime and he would take me around his home of Mathari and meet people who I could interview. Since he is my only contact at the moment, I probably will take him up on his offer.

Like anywhere else in the world, Kenyans work hard during the week and play harder on the weekends. In Kenya, Saturday is a sports day. Since the Kenyan Premier League is not in session, everyone's attention turns to rugby and the Kenyan Cup. Even though I used to play rugby back in the states before I sprained my knee, I have never seen a professional rugby game in my life. Unlike in the U.S where professional sports matches are held in large stadiums where food is overpriced, tickets are priced through the roof, and police officers prevent you from streaking across the field, Kenyan stadiums charge only 160 shillings for beer and tickets ($2.50) and you sit on the grass literally next to the field. To say the fans were rowdy is an understatement. Bad calls by referees are rewarded with bottles thrown onto the field, and bad performances by players requires more drinking by the fans to forget about the action on the field. While our team Impala got crushed by the Quins and are now out of the cup, the rest of the rugby gang and I are going to have to find a new team to back.

The last day of the weekend was marked with a bunch of us going out to a local music festival- held in an Agricultural Research Center of all places, to support our friend's band Sarabi. The problem with chilling with the headlining band all day was that the rest of the groups that went before were really crappy and did not excite the crowd at all. By the time Sarabi started playing and their lead singer Nelson Mandela- no joke, let out his first note, everyone in the crowd stood up and started dancing. Mandela came down from stage a couple of times and danced on his own and led a huge circle dance of around 200 people. The main difference between African and American dancing though is how much action Africans place on their hips. Seriously, everyone looked like they belonged in a Shakira music video while us Wazungu were trying to catch up. Looks like we have a long way to go to be respectable dancers in the Kenyan club scene.

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Pics related to my previous post

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Starbucks In The Bush: Massai Mocha Anyone?

So as promised a few days ago, the past few days in Kenya have really been amazing-with today being the best, and are a nice little break from the monotony of classes. On Friday we started off bright and early with a 2 hour Swahili lesson with Fred. While it was a little hard to go over so much in such a little time including "how to go to the market and not get ripped off" and the typical "tell me about your family" conversations, having three cups of chai really wakes you up and keeps you focused on the day. Rather then having Lynsey's class after, we ended up going on a field trip to the Eastlands section of Nairobi.

For those of you with little idea of Nairobi history and geography, let me give you a little background of the sections of the city. Nairobi is really divided into three main parts,  town, West of town, and East of town. Town is the central hub of Nairobi and what you think about when you imagine the city in your head-or what you see on google images. West of town- naturally including Westlands where I live, was formerly where most of the white colonial offers lived during British colonization. To this day, the area west of town is home to mainly upper class Nairobians and expats who work for the UN, Embassies, and international companies. East of town- naturally including Eastlands, was where the Africans were sent to live during British colonization. Unlike the areas west of town, Eastlands contain a wide socioeconomic mix of Africans ranging from the poorest of the poor in Kibera, to some lower middle class areas including Jericho and Kaylanni. 

While our trip to Kibera last week was a eye opening experience to see how the slum was in real life, seeing some of the nicer parts of Eastlands was shocking to see the disparity in living conditions between Kenyans only a mile or two apart. Our local guide took us through the local metal market- where most of the girls on the program got stares and catcalls from the hammer handed men, the butchery, and allowed us to tour some of the local houses. Unlike the structures I saw in Kibera, the houses in Jericho were made up of sturdy brick and were planned formal settlements unlike the informal housing we saw last week. From there our group walked around the area and saw the local school- with requisite callings of mzungus from the kids, and the community center. While the girls might have gotten hitten on every time we turned a corner, every time we stepped into a weight room or boxing gym, it seemed like every Kenyan wanted a chance to test their might against me and try and land a few blows. Luckily for me, we were on a tight schedule so I escaped our little adventure without any broken bones or black eyes. 

Later that night I attended my first Kabbalat Shabbat service on the African continent. While the size of the congregation was much smaller then EBJC or even at AU with only a minyan of 15 men, the experience was really unforgettable. Afterwards I was invited back to dinner at the house of a guy named Charles along with 11 others and had the best meal since I have gotten here. The conversation of the night went through a whole gamut of topics including what in the world was I doing in Nairobi, to movies, the situation in Arab states, and Kenyan Politics. Like most places in the world, the Jews of Kenya seem to be a small but powerful minority in the country. I was informed that Charles owned the Fairview Hotel which is located right next to the Israeli Embassy and is one of the nicest hotels in town. Another member of the synagogue was Dr. Silverstein who owned shares in the best private hospital in the city. In addition to these two, many others worked for Embassies or owned private security consulting groups. Josh and his wife Kelley- an America couple who ate with me, worked for the CDC and were previously in Denmark before coming to work in Nairobi. The most interesting character at the table though was an elder women by the name of Adina Zola. A native of Kenya, she had lived all her life in the country dating back to the British colonial era in the 1930s. Hearing her stories really added a new dimension to my perception of the residents of this country.

After heading off to sleep with a full belly and some nice wine in my body, our group sent Saturday at the annual Welcome BBQ held at the office. Along with everyone in the program, attendees included friends we have met up with along the way, some of Lynsey's friends and our externship supervisors. Since it was assumed I could grill well- I have never worked with charcoal, I was sent to man the meat station. Rather then cleaning up their meat and butchering it correctly, Kenyans seem to just put slabs of meat on the grill with no seasoning and wait till it is well done before pulling it off. I am sure if they could put the whole goat on the grill alive they would. So of course when I started to clean up and french the rack of goat and add some seasoning, I got many quizzical looks from the Kenyans looking on wondering why I was cutting away a large amount of fat. Naturally I found out when I was away grabbing a Tusker, they decided to grill the scraps anyway.

Other then trying to help out with meat, I was able to finally meet my externship mentors. For those of you who haven't found out yet, I am working for a small business called Ecosandals which is located in the slum of Kariobagi. The group recycles tires found around the workshops and uses the material-along with bought leather, to make sandals which are sold both in Kenya and internationally. After talking with Mike- my boss, over my skills and their needs, it seems like I will be the swiss army knife of their operation doing communication work, teaching English and computer skills to their workers, and helping out with business side of things. While I really have no prior training in anything business, learning the ins and outs of social entrepreneurship firsthand is sure to increase my skill set and open up new opportunities for me back in the states. Hopefully after some time working with them, I can try and implement an initiative in the company which will allow their sandals to be made from 100% recyclable materials. Additionally, I would love to try and introduce a buyback program which would allow the company to buy used and broken pairs of footwear from customers and recycle them into a new pair of sandals or another good for someone else creating a closed loop sustainable production cycle that is both environmentally friendly and profitable.

To end the weekend, we all took a trip out to the bush and visited Massailad. Once there, we visited the village of Chief Joseph and donated school supplies to help their school- located under a tree. Of course when we were asked to help teach the kids the alphabet, me and my 2 summers of teaching Chinese kid experience were volunteered to go up and sing the ABCs with them. After our initial lesson, we were set off to help make porridge for the kids and mochas for us and the teachers bush style. After saying our goodbyes we ended up running into a wild giraffe herd and got out of our bus and took the most amazing pictures ever. Its moments like this that reinforce why I chose to forgo Berlin and Paris for Nairobi. What really pissed me off though was an interaction I had later in the day at a restaurant we went to. As we got our bill, we were charged for items which we had not ordered but were given to us under the guise as a gift by the staff. While I can sometimes understand problems related to cultural differences, there is a big difference between those situations and being cheated out of money due to the fact that I am a foreigner. Not every white person who walks into that restaurant is rich just as like not every Kenyan I meet is from the slums. While I got hot headed with the waiter, my group had to keep me away before I got really mad;I'm sure Lynsey and I are going to have a long talk at our meeting tommorow. 

[destinationkenya]

So all the fun stuff this week is happening fri-sun. So by Monday you will get another fun recap of the adventures. In the meantime though, this book was talked about over shabbos dinner (to be expanded upon in the next post) and I thought those in the states might want to check it out. While the Uganda Plan was never acted upon, some Jews did come to the Kenya area and helped found the small local community that still stands today. This novel tells a historical fiction account of the startup of the Nairobi Jews and I think would be an interesting read for anyone curious about the subject or who just needs new reading material.

[destinationkenya]

Wait...Study Abroad Actually Means Studying?

Well at the moment let me just state that I am in day 2 of being sick. If you can get a burger,fries, and soda for under 2 bucks...dont trust it.

This past week started the main experience of what study abroad should be which are classes-sadly. While some people in the program were looking forward to this, as usual, I was dreading being back in the classroom. For the semester I am taking a total of 15 credits with 2 classes being taught at the AU program office, 2 being taught at the United States International University (USIU) and the final class being my internship which I have not started or been assigned to yet.

My Sched ( As of Now until the middle of March):

Class, Day, Time

Swahili, MW, 8-9

           F,   8-10

African Fiction, MW, 11:00-12:40

Life, Environment, Society, MW, 1:20-3:00

Politics of Culture of Kenya, TF, 10-1

Internship, Thurs, All Day

At the AU Program office, I have Swahili and my Politics of Culture of Kenya Class. My Swahili class is taught by a guy named Fred who apparently has a hard on for all types of languages. The best way to describe him is to think of an Indian Guru but take away the hair and the beard and make him black and that is what Fred looks like. He has a soft speaking voice and is kind of small so unlike the old Israeli women I have had teach me Hebrew in the past with their loud voices and accents from hell, taking his class is actually a pleasure.

While the rest of the program had the first session of our Politcs of Culture class on Friday, I was too sick to show up so I stayed sleeping under my covers all day. This class is accelerated so that we are done right before our Rural Week in March allowing us 3 days per week to spend at our internships. Even though the classes are taught by great people and are really interesting, the one complaint I have is that the office is a 30 minute hike away from our apartments so simply going to class and back is a good 3 mile walk across dirt and trash intermixed with weaving through traffic to get to the other side of the street.

While my classes from AU are really good, the classes at USIU are just plain awful. Firstly, the university is a private school where most of Kenya's rich and powerful send their children for a crappy education so that they can get a shiny diploma to put on their desk working for daddy's (insert powerful political or business conglomerate here). As such, many of the students seem quite unmotivated and simply go through the motions. Secondly, in Kenya, students are not encouraged to argue with professors' assumptions and ideas on issues leading to their opinions being made into fact and wrong information being passed off as the law of the land. The last part is only applicable for when professors do show up to class which so far seems to be at around 50% of the time with them coming in at least 10 minutes late at 100%.

That aside, let me actually get into what my classes are about. My African Fiction class is taught by a middle aged Russian man who's accent is so strong it seems like he only left the motherland 10 minutes ago and his appearance could match the description of any evil Russian scientist in old American Cold war novels to a tee. At the moment, his class has turned into my twice weekly comedy hour with him rambling in circles in his accent for long periods trying to make a point or making the most absurd claims imaginable. On Wednesday, he said that in order to see if a manual for curing HIV/AIDS works, first you must infect yourself with the virus then try the cure as listed. If it doesn't work then Nyet for you. Then came the claim about how entertainment purposes are not the main reason why fiction books are published. I then wonder what other purpose Twilight can play in the lives of screaming little 10 year old girls. While my African Fiction professor is eccentric to say the least, my Life, Environment, and Society professor is just plain wrong. In his talk on the origins of life, he proudly claimed that a combination of Darwinism and spontaneous generation are to thank for evolution on this planet. Last time I checked, spontaneous generation had not been an accepted scientific theory in over 100 years. Additionally, I have a group project in this class which will be as much a test in patience as it will be in teeth pulling.

Aside from class, last week we all took a trip to Africa's largest slum named Kibera*. While seeing pictures of these places in class or being depicted in movies such as Slumdog Millionaire is one thing, actually going to a slum in person is quite a diffrent experience. As far as the eye can see and even farther then that, a whole city within a city has been established with houses and stores being made of old sheet metal and mud being the staple of the biggest shantytown on the continent. According to my local guide, Kibera has a total area size of approximately 74 square miles which is even larger then Washington D.C that comes in at 68.3 square miles. You would never imagine that Camden or Compton or Anacostia could be considered a 5 star resort town until you walk through a slum yourself. While these areas that i just mentioned might have crime and poverty, Kibera has that, plus massive flooding whenever it rains due to the marginal land it is built on, no running water, open sewer pits, and trash covering most of the ground. I almost had to puke because the smell of human feces was so rampant in the air. In spite of all this hardship, it was surprising to note that the residents who we passed on our tour seemed to have such an upbeat energy and a sense of pride about both themselves and their town. While the residents of Kibera might not have much, they work just as hard as anyone else in Nairobi for everything that they have and are damn proud of what they can scrap together on so little. It is through this work ethic that these people hope that they can one day leave the slums of Kibera and move onto greener pastures somewhere else in the country.

That is mainly it for now. Until i overcome this food poisoning, I will be stuck in my apartment drinking tea and eating rice until kingdom come. I am still settling into my routine but lets hope this upcoming week fares better then this sickly weekend.

*Note apparently, we did have armed and undercover security with us throughout our time in Kibera. Maybe next time not having Victor-who is 6'4, in a winter coat in 90 degrees won't give it away so easy