As my roommates and parents can tell you, one of my favorite hobbies is watching the Food Network for hours on end, especially the show “Unwrapped.” They go behind the scenes of America’s favorite foods and tell you what’s in them and how they’re made. I experienced my own version of Unwrapped today, right in the Friars’ kitchen.
I think we are back in Antony’s good graces after the cake debacle, because tonight he taught us how to make three staple foods in Kenya that we’ve been eating a ton of-
chapattis, sukuma, and ugali.
We plan to try to make one chapatti for each child the day before we leave, because we wanted to do something nice for the kids and we know they’d love it. We had asked Antony to tell us the next time he was making chapatti, and he told us yesterday that today was our day: we were to report to the kitchen after lunch for our first chapatti lesson.
Chapattis (chuh-pah-tees), for those who don’t know, are small Indian flatbreads that are very popular here in Kenya. They almost look like pancakes, but are thinner and have more bubbles.
Antony was a great teacher: he probably took his time with us because he thought we had no idea what we were doing in the kitchen, but it was helpful nonetheless. He explained everything to us step by step- what the dough should feel like at each step, how to make the most chapattis out of each batch, and different techniques to use if the first one was too difficult.
Before long, Patricia and I were rolling and frying chapattis while Antony moved on to prepare the other parts of the meal. It took us a long time at first but we got better at it as we went along, and we are now confident that if we start working a day ahead of time, we will have chapattis for those kids that taste good!
When we came back a little later to work on our “presentation” of the chapattis in the dish (either rolling them or folding them in half), Antony showed us how to make sukuma and ugali as well.
Sukuma is just what I thought it was- shredded kale sautéed with a little oil, onion, and salt. That’s it; it’s very simple. I was pretty proud of myself for guessing that! The kale isn’t sautéed for long, it’s still fairly crunchy when you eat it.
Ugali was also simple to make, but this white mystery lump had absolutely stumped me. I had no clue how to make it, what was in it, or how it was prepared, but it really can’t be much easier. You boil about an inch and a half of water in a pot, pour in maize flour (it’s corn flour that’s less refined, I don’t even know if it’s available for purchase in the US), and stir. When the consistency gets “to be like porridge,” then you add more maize flour, and keep stirring with a wooden spoon. It starts to clump together, the water starts to evaporate, and lo and behold: a ball of ugali appears in the pot. I never would have figured this out in one million years, but Antony solved that mystery in a matter of minutes.
Mom and Dad and Diva Den roommates, get excited: I now know how to make a traditional Kenyan meal, and you will be eating it at least once to experience what it was like here :).
And that’s Kenya, unwrapped.
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
A Birthday I'll Never Forget
Usually at home, my mom makes me chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast on my birthday and I go out to dinner with friends or family. Something usually involves going into Wayne with my friend Katie, and sometimes I am at Dream Camp. This year, I turned 20 seven hours earlier than I would have at home, and had a birthday unlike any other.
I had birthday cake for breakfast that was left over from the night before- Patricia and I found some Betty Crocker in the Nakumatt (no luck at Tusky’s), and made two birthday cakes, one for the Friars on Sunday night and one for the Sisters on Monday. The one thing we couldn’t find (or make, we tried) was frosting- so we replaced it with the Kenyan version of Nutella that Fr. Kevin got for us: Nuteez Choco Peanut butter. It was pretty difficult to spread on the moist cake, but we did it! And we covered it with lots of sprinkles to make it look better :).
Sidenote: cake in Kenya is generally very dry and hard, though it’s actually also really good. Very little liquid is used in the batter, instead, they use mashed banana. You don’t taste the banana though, the cinnamon cake at the house tastes like coffee cake. The cook at the Friars’ house, Antony, really disapproved our cake. He asked us if we’d like to put it in the freezer “so it wouldn’t be so wet.” We tried to explain that no, it was supposed to be like that, but we can tell he really thinks we have no idea what we’re doing in the kitchen. When we baked the second cake, he kept changing the temperature every time we left the room: it got to the point where Patricia had to stay in the kitchen so the cake would bake correctly.
After my birthday cake breakfast, we went to school and started to inventory the library, which is housed in an old cargo container that was donated to OLG. It’s filled with all sorts of schoolbooks, coloring books, novels, and a few deflated balls as well as some salvageable sports equipment. Then I left to go pick up my birthday surprise!
Lucas drove me to town to pick up the one and only Michelle Spada, a classmate from NDA who is also working in Kenya this summer! She happened to be traveling through Kisumu on Monday, and spending the afternoon with her was the best birthday present I could have asked for! I gave her a tour of the compound, brought her over to the new primary school, and introduced her to some of the students. Two of the girls brought a birthday card over to our little house for me, so Michelle got to visit with Penina and Viola for a little bit. Then my parents called and Mish got to take a hot shower (she hadn’t gotten to do that since the US!), and after some visiting and story trading, we left for dinner at the Sisters’ house.
When we got there, Sisters Remia and Emem (Emmelinda… the kids have decided that it’s easier to just say Emem) were hanging up a big banner that said “Happy Birthday Julia!!! May God Bless You and Your Family!!!!” that Sister Emem had colored in with markers, since they didn’t have any color ink. They had fresh flowers on the table, and Sister Mary was in the kitchen making banana-mango pancakes, potatoes, and sausages.
It was such a fun night, and I was so happy to have Michelle there to celebrate! Sister Remia read the excerpt from Paul’s letter to the Corinthians (love is patient, love is kind) in honor of me, and even picked out music to play in the background. They gave me a beautiful piece of fabric with giraffes, elephants, and people on it, along with a lovely card! There was also a gift from Maria, the accountant for OLG who Patricia and I have befriended. She got me a gorgeous yellow sarong (or in Kenya, lasso) with elephants on it that says “Jambo Africa” all over. Michelle had already given me a lovely bracelet from Uganda and a pair of earrings from Kibera, the biggest slum in the world that is located right outside of Nairobi.
As we were cutting the cake, everyone sang and Sister Mary let out the best African yell I’ve ever heard- impressive coming from a mzungu! Then as we were leaving they did it again: Sister Mary yelled (YIYIYIYIYIYIYI!) and the other sisters yelled “HAPPY BIRTHDAY JULIA!” All the kids poked their heads out of their doors at school to see what all the commotion at the convent was, and the eskari (security guards) came running to make sure we were okay.
Michelle then unfortunately had to leave in order to get back to Nairobi, but even the few hours I got to spend with her were wonderful! I had a great birthday and was so touched by everyone’s kindness and generosity. Maria told me I was brave for being so far from home on my birthday- and while I was a little sad at first, I think last night has been my best night here. I can’t wait to celebrate at home, though! We only have 12 days left in Kisumu… which doesn’t seem real.
Last night, I learned my new favorite phrase- TIK, which stands for “this is Kenya.” Whenever something goes not exactly as planned, the sisters just kind of shrug and say eh… TIK. Considering our motto while baking the cakes was “eh… close enough,” TIK is
perfect to describe my experience here.
As we walked back into our house last night after dropping Michelle off, I looked up at the stars, felt so blessed and lucky for such a wonderful birthday, and thought wow- TIK.
I had birthday cake for breakfast that was left over from the night before- Patricia and I found some Betty Crocker in the Nakumatt (no luck at Tusky’s), and made two birthday cakes, one for the Friars on Sunday night and one for the Sisters on Monday. The one thing we couldn’t find (or make, we tried) was frosting- so we replaced it with the Kenyan version of Nutella that Fr. Kevin got for us: Nuteez Choco Peanut butter. It was pretty difficult to spread on the moist cake, but we did it! And we covered it with lots of sprinkles to make it look better :).
Sidenote: cake in Kenya is generally very dry and hard, though it’s actually also really good. Very little liquid is used in the batter, instead, they use mashed banana. You don’t taste the banana though, the cinnamon cake at the house tastes like coffee cake. The cook at the Friars’ house, Antony, really disapproved our cake. He asked us if we’d like to put it in the freezer “so it wouldn’t be so wet.” We tried to explain that no, it was supposed to be like that, but we can tell he really thinks we have no idea what we’re doing in the kitchen. When we baked the second cake, he kept changing the temperature every time we left the room: it got to the point where Patricia had to stay in the kitchen so the cake would bake correctly.
After my birthday cake breakfast, we went to school and started to inventory the library, which is housed in an old cargo container that was donated to OLG. It’s filled with all sorts of schoolbooks, coloring books, novels, and a few deflated balls as well as some salvageable sports equipment. Then I left to go pick up my birthday surprise!
Lucas drove me to town to pick up the one and only Michelle Spada, a classmate from NDA who is also working in Kenya this summer! She happened to be traveling through Kisumu on Monday, and spending the afternoon with her was the best birthday present I could have asked for! I gave her a tour of the compound, brought her over to the new primary school, and introduced her to some of the students. Two of the girls brought a birthday card over to our little house for me, so Michelle got to visit with Penina and Viola for a little bit. Then my parents called and Mish got to take a hot shower (she hadn’t gotten to do that since the US!), and after some visiting and story trading, we left for dinner at the Sisters’ house.
When we got there, Sisters Remia and Emem (Emmelinda… the kids have decided that it’s easier to just say Emem) were hanging up a big banner that said “Happy Birthday Julia!!! May God Bless You and Your Family!!!!” that Sister Emem had colored in with markers, since they didn’t have any color ink. They had fresh flowers on the table, and Sister Mary was in the kitchen making banana-mango pancakes, potatoes, and sausages.
It was such a fun night, and I was so happy to have Michelle there to celebrate! Sister Remia read the excerpt from Paul’s letter to the Corinthians (love is patient, love is kind) in honor of me, and even picked out music to play in the background. They gave me a beautiful piece of fabric with giraffes, elephants, and people on it, along with a lovely card! There was also a gift from Maria, the accountant for OLG who Patricia and I have befriended. She got me a gorgeous yellow sarong (or in Kenya, lasso) with elephants on it that says “Jambo Africa” all over. Michelle had already given me a lovely bracelet from Uganda and a pair of earrings from Kibera, the biggest slum in the world that is located right outside of Nairobi.
As we were cutting the cake, everyone sang and Sister Mary let out the best African yell I’ve ever heard- impressive coming from a mzungu! Then as we were leaving they did it again: Sister Mary yelled (YIYIYIYIYIYIYI!) and the other sisters yelled “HAPPY BIRTHDAY JULIA!” All the kids poked their heads out of their doors at school to see what all the commotion at the convent was, and the eskari (security guards) came running to make sure we were okay.
Michelle then unfortunately had to leave in order to get back to Nairobi, but even the few hours I got to spend with her were wonderful! I had a great birthday and was so touched by everyone’s kindness and generosity. Maria told me I was brave for being so far from home on my birthday- and while I was a little sad at first, I think last night has been my best night here. I can’t wait to celebrate at home, though! We only have 12 days left in Kisumu… which doesn’t seem real.
Last night, I learned my new favorite phrase- TIK, which stands for “this is Kenya.” Whenever something goes not exactly as planned, the sisters just kind of shrug and say eh… TIK. Considering our motto while baking the cakes was “eh… close enough,” TIK is
perfect to describe my experience here.
As we walked back into our house last night after dropping Michelle off, I looked up at the stars, felt so blessed and lucky for such a wonderful birthday, and thought wow- TIK.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Challenges
Sunday: the day of rest. The day when we’re not running all over Kisumu and at school all day. The day that is the hardest. Don’t get me wrong, being here has been amazing. I know what a great opportunity it is, and I know how lucky I am to be here. But on Sundays, somehow, all of that slips away… and I get homesick.
I have read five books so far in Kenya and am a quarter of the way through my fifth, I blog frequently, and have made new playlists in my iTunes. I clean and reorganize my room, and when I have internet, I incessantly check my email. I pray and reflect, and do anything and everything I can to not be bored.
Boredom means I start thinking about home… and about how close it is to my birthday, and about how my friends at home are hanging out and going down the shore. And I think about American food. It's not as much boredom (how can I be bored here?!) but letting my mind wander... And then, I get sad.
As my mom says, these hard days are important too: I’m learning about myself and about what I can do. It’s good to take the time to reflect… what kind of PSP major would I be if I didn’t like reflecting?
I like the days when we’re busy all day- I feel like I’m making a concrete difference, I help a lot of kids, and I exhaust myself so that I fall right to sleep and do it all over again. I try to view Sundays as a challenge; I like challenging myself, so I think it helps. Can I get through the day without being overly homesick? How can I relate the morning mass to what I’m doing here? What can I plan for the coming week? What can I plan for when I get home? It’s getting easier, but as each Sunday night passes and Monday morning arrives, I’m much happier and ready to take on the challenges that will meet me that day at Our Lady of Grace.
Another type of hard day is when you get sick when you’re here. Don’t worry, I don’t have anything serious, but my stomach disagreed with something I ate that put me on the couch for the day. I responded to letters and emails, finished a book, and started working on a Grass to Grace Powerpoint… all before lunch. The combination of a day at home and an upset stomach (plus little sleep the night before thanks to the upset stomach) was quite difficult- but a phone call from my parents and a little Gatorade and medicine fixed everything. I’m very ready to start my new day at OLG tomorrow, and see what challenges are in store for me.
I have read five books so far in Kenya and am a quarter of the way through my fifth, I blog frequently, and have made new playlists in my iTunes. I clean and reorganize my room, and when I have internet, I incessantly check my email. I pray and reflect, and do anything and everything I can to not be bored.
Boredom means I start thinking about home… and about how close it is to my birthday, and about how my friends at home are hanging out and going down the shore. And I think about American food. It's not as much boredom (how can I be bored here?!) but letting my mind wander... And then, I get sad.
As my mom says, these hard days are important too: I’m learning about myself and about what I can do. It’s good to take the time to reflect… what kind of PSP major would I be if I didn’t like reflecting?
I like the days when we’re busy all day- I feel like I’m making a concrete difference, I help a lot of kids, and I exhaust myself so that I fall right to sleep and do it all over again. I try to view Sundays as a challenge; I like challenging myself, so I think it helps. Can I get through the day without being overly homesick? How can I relate the morning mass to what I’m doing here? What can I plan for the coming week? What can I plan for when I get home? It’s getting easier, but as each Sunday night passes and Monday morning arrives, I’m much happier and ready to take on the challenges that will meet me that day at Our Lady of Grace.
Another type of hard day is when you get sick when you’re here. Don’t worry, I don’t have anything serious, but my stomach disagreed with something I ate that put me on the couch for the day. I responded to letters and emails, finished a book, and started working on a Grass to Grace Powerpoint… all before lunch. The combination of a day at home and an upset stomach (plus little sleep the night before thanks to the upset stomach) was quite difficult- but a phone call from my parents and a little Gatorade and medicine fixed everything. I’m very ready to start my new day at OLG tomorrow, and see what challenges are in store for me.
Diamonds in the Rough
So, I’m sure some of you have been thinking… didn’t she go there to bring the amazing magic of theatre to those kids?! (In exactly those words, I’m sure…) Well, yes, I did. Theatre has been such an important and cathartic part of my life, and I wanted to give the kids here some of the same opportunities I’ve been given.
Little did I know, they already have been given some of those opportunities- and their “drama team” is really good.
In Kenya, drama (not theatre- that when I said I was a theatre major, that confused a lot of people) is almost like a sport. The teams from different schools compete regionally, provincially, and nationally in different categories. Our Lady of Grace has one of the best drama teams in the whole country! They went to nationals this year with both their play, based on Obama’s book “Dreams of My Father,” (his father’s compound is about 40 minutes away from Our Lady of Grace… something I didn’t know until we drove past Obama Park), and their narrative, about environmentalism and Lake Victoria.
Wednesday, I got my first taste of drama at OLG- and was FLOORED. The small group performed their narrative for me in the dining hall- no costumes, props, or sets. The lead, Joseph, had me laughing the whole time. He’s in 5th grade, and if he weren’t only 5’1” I really would have thought he was at least a senior in high school. He had amazing stage presence and comedic timing, and drew Patricia and I in with his opening lines- “Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to Kenya…” he is an amazing storyteller.
The whole narrative was done to the beat of a drum, and included Kiswahili and English songs and traditional African dances. Since arriving in Kenya I have been amazed by the Kenyan people’s ability to harmonize on the spot- in Mass, while doing yardwork, women walking with 20 liter gallons of clean water balanced perfectly on their heads who are headed home- they all sound like angels. These kids were no exception.
After their 10 minute presentation, I sat there wondering what I could do to “help” these already amazing kids. I saw nothing wrong with the narrative- what was I going to do?! I got up, told them how impressed I was, and asked them if they had any questions for me… silence.
Fr. Martin had mentioned that sometimes they needed help projecting- I didn’t hear that, but I could tell that the kids weren’t supporting their voices properly. So, I did what Ms. Creed told me to do in 6th grade at my first-ever voice lesson: lay down on the floor with a book on your stomach, take a breath, and move the book. They thought I was crazy, but by the end of our time together they understood what I meant. Not only did I have the challenge of trying to help kids who could probably teach me a thing or two, but I also had to do it in slow, clear English, completely depleted of idioms. That’s why the book exercise worked so well: I could SHOW them what I meant, I didn’t need to explain it.
Once everyone got up and dusted themselves off, I taught them some of the beloved PC warmups: shakedown was a struggle (an exercise where you shake your hands and feet one at a time counting down from 8… counting backwards in another language is difficult, something I should have thought of), and when I lead them in “to sit in solemn silence,” we were all cracking up. Somehow, I thought it would be perfectly fine to ask them to repeat big words like “pestilential” very quickly. They all didn’t know what they were doing, started laughing, and by the end, I knew it was a lost cause. It certainly got their energy up, but the points of diction and breath support were lost on them.
At this point, I asked the kids to teach me their warmups. A lot of them were in Kiswahili and I’m still trying to learn them, but a few were English songs about the Gospel. The exercises actually have a lot of the same goals that the warmups I’m so familiar with have, so that was cool to see.
Next time I meet with them, we’re going to do those same warmups much more slowly, and a few fun ones that I can’t believe I didn’t think of (A Moose Named Fred!). I’m trying to think of fun improv games I can play with them too, and apparently one day next week they’re going to do a special performance of “Dreams of My Father” for me!
Spending time with the drama kids has made me appreciate even more why it’s so important- for a lot of them, this is the one thing they’re good at that they are publicly praised for. The national recognition of the OLG drama team makes them feel important and helps them to see the direct product of hard work and dedication- success. The drama team is also a mini family within the family that is OLG, as it is at PC.
Drama competitions, while they do gain so much in reputation for the school, are very expensive. Sending 50 kids to Nairobi is costly, and when a team does so well, how do you deny these talented kids the opportunity to win the national competition? With the school in a tight financial situation, there is talk that the program might need to be eliminated. I am going to do everything in my power to prevent this: I know how important it is to these kids, but like it is in the US, the ONLY arts program at the school is the first to go in tough times. Hey TDF Department… let’s help these kids and give them the opportunity to shine just as we do.
Little did I know, they already have been given some of those opportunities- and their “drama team” is really good.
In Kenya, drama (not theatre- that when I said I was a theatre major, that confused a lot of people) is almost like a sport. The teams from different schools compete regionally, provincially, and nationally in different categories. Our Lady of Grace has one of the best drama teams in the whole country! They went to nationals this year with both their play, based on Obama’s book “Dreams of My Father,” (his father’s compound is about 40 minutes away from Our Lady of Grace… something I didn’t know until we drove past Obama Park), and their narrative, about environmentalism and Lake Victoria.
Wednesday, I got my first taste of drama at OLG- and was FLOORED. The small group performed their narrative for me in the dining hall- no costumes, props, or sets. The lead, Joseph, had me laughing the whole time. He’s in 5th grade, and if he weren’t only 5’1” I really would have thought he was at least a senior in high school. He had amazing stage presence and comedic timing, and drew Patricia and I in with his opening lines- “Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to Kenya…” he is an amazing storyteller.
The whole narrative was done to the beat of a drum, and included Kiswahili and English songs and traditional African dances. Since arriving in Kenya I have been amazed by the Kenyan people’s ability to harmonize on the spot- in Mass, while doing yardwork, women walking with 20 liter gallons of clean water balanced perfectly on their heads who are headed home- they all sound like angels. These kids were no exception.
After their 10 minute presentation, I sat there wondering what I could do to “help” these already amazing kids. I saw nothing wrong with the narrative- what was I going to do?! I got up, told them how impressed I was, and asked them if they had any questions for me… silence.
Fr. Martin had mentioned that sometimes they needed help projecting- I didn’t hear that, but I could tell that the kids weren’t supporting their voices properly. So, I did what Ms. Creed told me to do in 6th grade at my first-ever voice lesson: lay down on the floor with a book on your stomach, take a breath, and move the book. They thought I was crazy, but by the end of our time together they understood what I meant. Not only did I have the challenge of trying to help kids who could probably teach me a thing or two, but I also had to do it in slow, clear English, completely depleted of idioms. That’s why the book exercise worked so well: I could SHOW them what I meant, I didn’t need to explain it.
Once everyone got up and dusted themselves off, I taught them some of the beloved PC warmups: shakedown was a struggle (an exercise where you shake your hands and feet one at a time counting down from 8… counting backwards in another language is difficult, something I should have thought of), and when I lead them in “to sit in solemn silence,” we were all cracking up. Somehow, I thought it would be perfectly fine to ask them to repeat big words like “pestilential” very quickly. They all didn’t know what they were doing, started laughing, and by the end, I knew it was a lost cause. It certainly got their energy up, but the points of diction and breath support were lost on them.
At this point, I asked the kids to teach me their warmups. A lot of them were in Kiswahili and I’m still trying to learn them, but a few were English songs about the Gospel. The exercises actually have a lot of the same goals that the warmups I’m so familiar with have, so that was cool to see.
Next time I meet with them, we’re going to do those same warmups much more slowly, and a few fun ones that I can’t believe I didn’t think of (A Moose Named Fred!). I’m trying to think of fun improv games I can play with them too, and apparently one day next week they’re going to do a special performance of “Dreams of My Father” for me!
Spending time with the drama kids has made me appreciate even more why it’s so important- for a lot of them, this is the one thing they’re good at that they are publicly praised for. The national recognition of the OLG drama team makes them feel important and helps them to see the direct product of hard work and dedication- success. The drama team is also a mini family within the family that is OLG, as it is at PC.
Drama competitions, while they do gain so much in reputation for the school, are very expensive. Sending 50 kids to Nairobi is costly, and when a team does so well, how do you deny these talented kids the opportunity to win the national competition? With the school in a tight financial situation, there is talk that the program might need to be eliminated. I am going to do everything in my power to prevent this: I know how important it is to these kids, but like it is in the US, the ONLY arts program at the school is the first to go in tough times. Hey TDF Department… let’s help these kids and give them the opportunity to shine just as we do.
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Food Addendum
As one of the emails I received said, you can learn so much about a culture through its food. When I wrote my first food post, I had only been here about a week, and I now have even more food experiences.
I was lucky enough to have the quintessential culinary experience- I helped Sister Mary, who is not a Kenya native but I would consider her to be an expert on Kenyan culture, cook a traditional squash dish for dinner. There was no recipe, there were no measurements, there was just food. We cooked squash and bananas (not yellow yet, green bananas are not sweet and are eaten here like potatoes) in a fry pan. In a pot, we boiled cabbage, added onions, tomatoes, and apples, and then eventually the squash and bananas. After letting it simmer for maybe 30 minutes, it was an amazing vegetable stew. Roommates, get ready: I will be making this for dinner on more than one occasion. It’s easy and delicious, and like almost all the other food I’ve eaten here, very healthy.
That night, the sisters invited us over for dinner, which was so nice! They invited us for 6:30 around 4:30, and the two American girls that we are, we were panicked to get something together to bring with us. Do we have time to bake? No, and even if we did, we don’t have a recipe. From my experience in the Storey kitchen, I know how essential recipes are in baking- and though I have made chocolate chip cookies from scratch a million times, I have no memory of the recipe. Not that there were any chocolate chips in the house.
So, in typical Kenya fashion, we resorted to whatever we had in the house- in this case, pineapple. We sliced a fresh pineapple and put it on a platter and marched on over to the convent for dinner. It was a really fun night- the friars are absolutely wonderful, don’t get me wrong, but it was nice to be eating with other women! The whole time we’ve been here, we’ve been the only women in the house, and having gone to an all-girls school, it was so nice to share in that meal with the sisters. It’s going to be a weekly affair, and if we continue to do it on Mondays, the next one will be on my birthday! A wonderful way to celebrate being 20 I think, especially since we’re having pancakes from mix that Sister Mary brought from the US- with syrup :).
As I said before, I do like the food here. It’s different from home, and I am starting to get a little homesick in terms of food. I craved a hamburger the other day- I don’t even usually eat red meat. Patricia and I stopped at Tusky’s (your friendly neighborhood supermarket) for the first time the other day while running errands with Sister Mary, and we each bought some chocolate- Cadbury has never tasted so good! I was also delighted to see my favorite Kinder Bueno bar in the store- the wrapper had writing in Arabic on it, which was cool. I still have the one that I bought in Switzerland, but I will be stocking up before coming home, don’t worry, NDA girls.
We’re also pretty sure that they don’t do brownies or cake from a box in Kenya- we are afraid to ask because we think they’ll laugh at us, but we wanted to bake for the friars and sisters- now that we have internet though, we have better access to recipes, so we’ll probably go the from-scratch route, assuming there are enough ingredients in the house. No sign of chocolate chips either… hmm. Bueno-chip cookies? It’s a possibility. I also have a feeling that using the oven will be an adventure in ad of itself, but I’ll be sure to update once I know for sure.
I was lucky enough to have the quintessential culinary experience- I helped Sister Mary, who is not a Kenya native but I would consider her to be an expert on Kenyan culture, cook a traditional squash dish for dinner. There was no recipe, there were no measurements, there was just food. We cooked squash and bananas (not yellow yet, green bananas are not sweet and are eaten here like potatoes) in a fry pan. In a pot, we boiled cabbage, added onions, tomatoes, and apples, and then eventually the squash and bananas. After letting it simmer for maybe 30 minutes, it was an amazing vegetable stew. Roommates, get ready: I will be making this for dinner on more than one occasion. It’s easy and delicious, and like almost all the other food I’ve eaten here, very healthy.
That night, the sisters invited us over for dinner, which was so nice! They invited us for 6:30 around 4:30, and the two American girls that we are, we were panicked to get something together to bring with us. Do we have time to bake? No, and even if we did, we don’t have a recipe. From my experience in the Storey kitchen, I know how essential recipes are in baking- and though I have made chocolate chip cookies from scratch a million times, I have no memory of the recipe. Not that there were any chocolate chips in the house.
So, in typical Kenya fashion, we resorted to whatever we had in the house- in this case, pineapple. We sliced a fresh pineapple and put it on a platter and marched on over to the convent for dinner. It was a really fun night- the friars are absolutely wonderful, don’t get me wrong, but it was nice to be eating with other women! The whole time we’ve been here, we’ve been the only women in the house, and having gone to an all-girls school, it was so nice to share in that meal with the sisters. It’s going to be a weekly affair, and if we continue to do it on Mondays, the next one will be on my birthday! A wonderful way to celebrate being 20 I think, especially since we’re having pancakes from mix that Sister Mary brought from the US- with syrup :).
As I said before, I do like the food here. It’s different from home, and I am starting to get a little homesick in terms of food. I craved a hamburger the other day- I don’t even usually eat red meat. Patricia and I stopped at Tusky’s (your friendly neighborhood supermarket) for the first time the other day while running errands with Sister Mary, and we each bought some chocolate- Cadbury has never tasted so good! I was also delighted to see my favorite Kinder Bueno bar in the store- the wrapper had writing in Arabic on it, which was cool. I still have the one that I bought in Switzerland, but I will be stocking up before coming home, don’t worry, NDA girls.
We’re also pretty sure that they don’t do brownies or cake from a box in Kenya- we are afraid to ask because we think they’ll laugh at us, but we wanted to bake for the friars and sisters- now that we have internet though, we have better access to recipes, so we’ll probably go the from-scratch route, assuming there are enough ingredients in the house. No sign of chocolate chips either… hmm. Bueno-chip cookies? It’s a possibility. I also have a feeling that using the oven will be an adventure in ad of itself, but I’ll be sure to update once I know for sure.
Roots
Being here has given me a lot of time to think- about myself, about poverty, about social justice, and about God. I have found that a lot of what I have been thinking about leads me back to where I come from, what I know, experiences that I’ve had in the past, and how they compare to those of the people I have encountered here.
Living in this Dominican community and with these Kenyan people of immense faith have given me a new point of view. I have a new perspective from which I can look at my own beliefs and struggles, and I have learned a lot about myself in comparison to them. I have learned that I’m stronger than I thought I was, and I now understand what it truly means to struggle. Sure, hearing the stories of these amazing people can give you insight into their struggles, but knowing them and seeing their faces and the physical conditions in which they live makes you understand it. I have been so very blessed in my life with all the opportunities, people, and love that I have been given, and seeing the poverty of these people juxtaposed with their strong faith has strengthened my own. I have had moments of difficulty in my life, and I know I will in the future, but this experience has made me know that I can get through those difficulties because of the love and support I have in my life.
For those of you who make up that amazing support system that I have, thank you. Thank you for sending me letters and emails that make me laugh both here and in the US, for late night heart to hearts, for adopting me into your families, and for being a part of mine. I’m so incredibly lucky to have you.
I have also thought a lot about the roots of my desire to do work like this- Dream Camp, you cross my mind all the time. The kids here remind me of my dream campers, so happy in the midst of difficult lives. They’re tricky and smart like the kids I work with at YouthRAP in Providence, and I’m happy to adopt the kids from Our Lady of Grace as another group of “my kids.” The difference here, though, is in the needs they have. At Dream Camp and YouthRAP, while the kids are definitely underserved and absolutely deserving of so much more than they have, the kids here have needs on a completely different level. Our Lady of Grace is a place where they don’t have to worry about food or a safe place to sleep. During the violence here in 2008, those two things were not givens for them, and when they aren’t at school, they’re still not. I know that when I get home, I will have a big clean bed to look forward to and a fully stocked fridge in the kitchen. These kids had to grow up so fast- most of them are orphaned and have younger siblings to take care of, and inside the school, they take care of each other. It’s truly a family, and I hope I get to be a bigger part of the family as my time here continues.
I have also thought a lot about NOLA while I’ve been here. Whether it’s because Jessie’s Girl comes on my iPod and I think of van rides, or because I am yet again floored by the resiliency of the Kenyan people, I feel connected to the week I spent there in January. Fr. Martin, who is the friar in charge of the school, is a NOLA native- it keeps popping up here! To my NOLA 2010 crew, I think of you often as well, and wish I had someone to play Monopoly Deal with here.
I’m almost at the halfway point of being here- and the time has flown by. Now that I feel comfortable and familiar in Kisumu, I can take what I’ve learned and do more here than I have been able to do in the past two weeks. Patricia and I are planning a giant field day next Saturday for the whole school- relay races, soccer and netball games, volleyball, and a day for the kids to take their minds off of school and enjoy being kids.
We’re also strategizing what the best way to fundraise will be when we get back. We have big plans, PC, so get ready. There is so much need here, and as one Dominican school, we have a responsibility to another.
Three weeks from tonight, I’ll be getting on a plane home to the US. It seems like a long time, but also seems like it isn’t enough. See you soon!
Living in this Dominican community and with these Kenyan people of immense faith have given me a new point of view. I have a new perspective from which I can look at my own beliefs and struggles, and I have learned a lot about myself in comparison to them. I have learned that I’m stronger than I thought I was, and I now understand what it truly means to struggle. Sure, hearing the stories of these amazing people can give you insight into their struggles, but knowing them and seeing their faces and the physical conditions in which they live makes you understand it. I have been so very blessed in my life with all the opportunities, people, and love that I have been given, and seeing the poverty of these people juxtaposed with their strong faith has strengthened my own. I have had moments of difficulty in my life, and I know I will in the future, but this experience has made me know that I can get through those difficulties because of the love and support I have in my life.
For those of you who make up that amazing support system that I have, thank you. Thank you for sending me letters and emails that make me laugh both here and in the US, for late night heart to hearts, for adopting me into your families, and for being a part of mine. I’m so incredibly lucky to have you.
I have also thought a lot about the roots of my desire to do work like this- Dream Camp, you cross my mind all the time. The kids here remind me of my dream campers, so happy in the midst of difficult lives. They’re tricky and smart like the kids I work with at YouthRAP in Providence, and I’m happy to adopt the kids from Our Lady of Grace as another group of “my kids.” The difference here, though, is in the needs they have. At Dream Camp and YouthRAP, while the kids are definitely underserved and absolutely deserving of so much more than they have, the kids here have needs on a completely different level. Our Lady of Grace is a place where they don’t have to worry about food or a safe place to sleep. During the violence here in 2008, those two things were not givens for them, and when they aren’t at school, they’re still not. I know that when I get home, I will have a big clean bed to look forward to and a fully stocked fridge in the kitchen. These kids had to grow up so fast- most of them are orphaned and have younger siblings to take care of, and inside the school, they take care of each other. It’s truly a family, and I hope I get to be a bigger part of the family as my time here continues.
I have also thought a lot about NOLA while I’ve been here. Whether it’s because Jessie’s Girl comes on my iPod and I think of van rides, or because I am yet again floored by the resiliency of the Kenyan people, I feel connected to the week I spent there in January. Fr. Martin, who is the friar in charge of the school, is a NOLA native- it keeps popping up here! To my NOLA 2010 crew, I think of you often as well, and wish I had someone to play Monopoly Deal with here.
I’m almost at the halfway point of being here- and the time has flown by. Now that I feel comfortable and familiar in Kisumu, I can take what I’ve learned and do more here than I have been able to do in the past two weeks. Patricia and I are planning a giant field day next Saturday for the whole school- relay races, soccer and netball games, volleyball, and a day for the kids to take their minds off of school and enjoy being kids.
We’re also strategizing what the best way to fundraise will be when we get back. We have big plans, PC, so get ready. There is so much need here, and as one Dominican school, we have a responsibility to another.
Three weeks from tonight, I’ll be getting on a plane home to the US. It seems like a long time, but also seems like it isn’t enough. See you soon!
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
A Caste Culture
Since I’ve been here, I can’t help but notice how all parts of Kenya are separated into classes- there are those who serve, and those who are served. Even those who serve have servants who they treat like dirt and pay nothing.
I saw it on the hike when the porters and cooks wouldn’t let us help them with anything- not even just carrying our own jackets or waterbottles or clearing our plates after meals. At that point, I couldn’t tell if it was just their professionalism and the fact that we were clients, but now I see that it was because we were seen as a higher class than they were because we were clients, white girls from America.
I see it at school- the kids see themselves as superior to the cooks and maintenance crew because they serve the kids. The kids laugh when Patricia and I go to weed in the shamba (field or garden), and when we ask them for help they just kindof giggle and ask why we’re doing it. They’re shocked that we even know how to pull weeds or dig, because as I’ve recently discovered, they think that everyone in America is rich and lives in a mansion. Yesterday, when I told a group of girls that no, I do not personally know Beyoncé, and that yes, there are a lot of Americans who are poor and who are homeless, they were shocked. They didn’t believe me at first, but then they got very quiet, and one just said, “I thought everyone in the states had a lot of money.” That misconception of Americans being wealthy automatically put Patricia and me above them in their minds, and I think that conversation might have put us on a more even playing field.
I saw it when Mary went to the hospital and Sister Mary so insisted that someone be with her to fight for her. She’s 16 and pregnant, arriving at the hospital from a boarding school notorious for not asking for school fees, and without a parent accompanying her. In Kenya, she’s far down on the list. She’d also be in a lot of pain and distress, unable to fight for herself. That’s why she needed someone with her- someone who would insist that she is just as valuable and worthy of care as a married woman who came in with her husband to have a child.
I see it every day as we walk down the street to go to school. Everyone smiles and waves at us, and when we say jambo, they respond with hello. The basic English that everyone knows is the word “fine.” They are taught to say “How are you?” and to answer “Fine, how are you?” in primary school, and most cannot remember much past that. The answer to pretty much anything and everything we say to people walking down the road is “fine, fine.” It could be an answer to the question “How are you?” and the answer is probably not fine, it could be an answer to just a simple hello or good morning.
I saw it yesterday when Patricia and I started the first of our many Saturday projects- reshaping the plant beds in the greenhouse to measure one meter across and 50 centimeters in between so that the irrigation system will work. We got in there bright and early and started raking, but when the casual laborers saw us (casual laborer=maintenance staff), they took the rakes and “spades” (shovels) out of our hands and took over. We tried to explain that while we’d love their help, we could do some work too, but they wouldn’t hear of it. Of course, they did a much better job than we ever could have, but it was interesting to see that they wouldn’t let us help. We went and got them water and did some weeding around the edges of the greenhouse, but still can take no credit for the work that was done.
I hope that our time here working with and hanging out with the students at the school will make them see it too- and see that it’s wrong. I want them to understand the value of each and every human person. I know it’s a big goal, but I’m going to do what I can to make as much of a difference as possible in the time I’m here.
I apologize for not posting for so long and then inundating you with posts- our internet hasn’t been working since we had a CRAZY rainstorm the other day. It thundered so much that our little house shook! We actually didn’t lose power, but the crash of the rain on the iron roof was overwhelming and a little scary. It is, however, a gorgeous day here today. I’m sitting in a little hut on the Dominican compound typing and listening to the cows and goats. The goats graze on the property, and there is currently one about 10 feet away from me. The wind is blowing and it’s not even hot, it’s really nice to be outside! Patricia and I moved into a new little house today, about 30 feet away from where our first house was. We now have hot water (hooray!), a little common room and kitchen, and we don’t have to go outside to go to the bathroom. I’ll post pictures when I can! I’ve been in Kenya for about 2 weeks, which is weird. It feels like longer, but it has gone by so fast. See you in 24 days! xox
I saw it on the hike when the porters and cooks wouldn’t let us help them with anything- not even just carrying our own jackets or waterbottles or clearing our plates after meals. At that point, I couldn’t tell if it was just their professionalism and the fact that we were clients, but now I see that it was because we were seen as a higher class than they were because we were clients, white girls from America.
I see it at school- the kids see themselves as superior to the cooks and maintenance crew because they serve the kids. The kids laugh when Patricia and I go to weed in the shamba (field or garden), and when we ask them for help they just kindof giggle and ask why we’re doing it. They’re shocked that we even know how to pull weeds or dig, because as I’ve recently discovered, they think that everyone in America is rich and lives in a mansion. Yesterday, when I told a group of girls that no, I do not personally know Beyoncé, and that yes, there are a lot of Americans who are poor and who are homeless, they were shocked. They didn’t believe me at first, but then they got very quiet, and one just said, “I thought everyone in the states had a lot of money.” That misconception of Americans being wealthy automatically put Patricia and me above them in their minds, and I think that conversation might have put us on a more even playing field.
I saw it when Mary went to the hospital and Sister Mary so insisted that someone be with her to fight for her. She’s 16 and pregnant, arriving at the hospital from a boarding school notorious for not asking for school fees, and without a parent accompanying her. In Kenya, she’s far down on the list. She’d also be in a lot of pain and distress, unable to fight for herself. That’s why she needed someone with her- someone who would insist that she is just as valuable and worthy of care as a married woman who came in with her husband to have a child.
I see it every day as we walk down the street to go to school. Everyone smiles and waves at us, and when we say jambo, they respond with hello. The basic English that everyone knows is the word “fine.” They are taught to say “How are you?” and to answer “Fine, how are you?” in primary school, and most cannot remember much past that. The answer to pretty much anything and everything we say to people walking down the road is “fine, fine.” It could be an answer to the question “How are you?” and the answer is probably not fine, it could be an answer to just a simple hello or good morning.
I saw it yesterday when Patricia and I started the first of our many Saturday projects- reshaping the plant beds in the greenhouse to measure one meter across and 50 centimeters in between so that the irrigation system will work. We got in there bright and early and started raking, but when the casual laborers saw us (casual laborer=maintenance staff), they took the rakes and “spades” (shovels) out of our hands and took over. We tried to explain that while we’d love their help, we could do some work too, but they wouldn’t hear of it. Of course, they did a much better job than we ever could have, but it was interesting to see that they wouldn’t let us help. We went and got them water and did some weeding around the edges of the greenhouse, but still can take no credit for the work that was done.
I hope that our time here working with and hanging out with the students at the school will make them see it too- and see that it’s wrong. I want them to understand the value of each and every human person. I know it’s a big goal, but I’m going to do what I can to make as much of a difference as possible in the time I’m here.
I apologize for not posting for so long and then inundating you with posts- our internet hasn’t been working since we had a CRAZY rainstorm the other day. It thundered so much that our little house shook! We actually didn’t lose power, but the crash of the rain on the iron roof was overwhelming and a little scary. It is, however, a gorgeous day here today. I’m sitting in a little hut on the Dominican compound typing and listening to the cows and goats. The goats graze on the property, and there is currently one about 10 feet away from me. The wind is blowing and it’s not even hot, it’s really nice to be outside! Patricia and I moved into a new little house today, about 30 feet away from where our first house was. We now have hot water (hooray!), a little common room and kitchen, and we don’t have to go outside to go to the bathroom. I’ll post pictures when I can! I’ve been in Kenya for about 2 weeks, which is weird. It feels like longer, but it has gone by so fast. See you in 24 days! xox
Miracles Happen
I have an entire school full of children in front of me while I’m frantically plugging and unplugging wires, pressing buttons, and connecting and disconnecting speakers. Why is it that they can watch the movie we’ve been promising them all day but can’t hear it? If only I knew. The older boys come over to play around with the sound system that they use every Saturday evening for dancing, which is their usual activity during “entertainment,” and it’s still looking hopeless. While trying to concentrate on which plugs should go where and whether or not I’ve already tried that, I throw up a few Hail Marys and pray that I don’t have to tell these kids that they can’t watch their movie.
All of a sudden, I hear the opening music of Madagascar 2. VICTORY! Everyone claps and laughs, and we start watching… and we keep watching… and it’s just a low murmur of noise, nothing distinguishable. Panicked, I shoot a look at Patricia, and then we hear the best noise I’ve ever heard- 220 kids cracking up at the animation projected onto a white sheet hanging on the back wall of their multipurpose dining hall/chapel/auditorium/classroom. They were completely captivated, and couldn’t have cared less about the fact that they couldn’t understand what the characters were saying. I sat back and took some photos and relaxed, smiling, really understanding the meaning of the phrase “it’s the little things in life.”
Then in walks Sister Mary, whose equipment it is that is fascinating these kids. She walks over to the machine that I fiddled with for 20 minutes, presses two buttons, and we can clearly hear the characters. She’s amazing. As we listen and debate whether or not to start over, I realize that I can’t understand a word the lions, penguins, or monkeys are saying. Why? Oh, because the film is in Chinese. That’s what you get when you buy a bootleg DVD on the streets of Nairobi, Sister Mary. Thankfully this DVD had about ten other films on it, so we watched Shrek- in English- and the kids loved it.
That night, we held a special screening- for secondarians (high school students) only. By the time we arrived back at Our Lady of Grace after our lunch/dinner break, the makeshift movie theatre was packed. And there were kids around age five in the front row… certainly not secondarians. It broke my heart to have to tell them to leave- they had to go to bed! As they walked out, heads hanging low, the secondary students cheered- they usually don’t get much time to themselves without having to share with and take care of their surrogate younger siblings. The movie was quite intense, but it applied to their CRE (religion) classes, which was certainly helpful. Who would have thought the first time I would ever see and discuss Avatar would be in a tiny little school in Africa?
All of a sudden, I hear the opening music of Madagascar 2. VICTORY! Everyone claps and laughs, and we start watching… and we keep watching… and it’s just a low murmur of noise, nothing distinguishable. Panicked, I shoot a look at Patricia, and then we hear the best noise I’ve ever heard- 220 kids cracking up at the animation projected onto a white sheet hanging on the back wall of their multipurpose dining hall/chapel/auditorium/classroom. They were completely captivated, and couldn’t have cared less about the fact that they couldn’t understand what the characters were saying. I sat back and took some photos and relaxed, smiling, really understanding the meaning of the phrase “it’s the little things in life.”
Then in walks Sister Mary, whose equipment it is that is fascinating these kids. She walks over to the machine that I fiddled with for 20 minutes, presses two buttons, and we can clearly hear the characters. She’s amazing. As we listen and debate whether or not to start over, I realize that I can’t understand a word the lions, penguins, or monkeys are saying. Why? Oh, because the film is in Chinese. That’s what you get when you buy a bootleg DVD on the streets of Nairobi, Sister Mary. Thankfully this DVD had about ten other films on it, so we watched Shrek- in English- and the kids loved it.
That night, we held a special screening- for secondarians (high school students) only. By the time we arrived back at Our Lady of Grace after our lunch/dinner break, the makeshift movie theatre was packed. And there were kids around age five in the front row… certainly not secondarians. It broke my heart to have to tell them to leave- they had to go to bed! As they walked out, heads hanging low, the secondary students cheered- they usually don’t get much time to themselves without having to share with and take care of their surrogate younger siblings. The movie was quite intense, but it applied to their CRE (religion) classes, which was certainly helpful. Who would have thought the first time I would ever see and discuss Avatar would be in a tiny little school in Africa?
Bold as Love
I really don’t even know how to start talking about Sister Mary Brenda, OP. She is honestly one of the most amazing women I have ever met in my life, and is an amazing role model for me. She is a Dominican sister from a congregation in Houston, a PSU alum, former nurse, and a dynamo. She came to Kisumu to help the administration of Our Lady of Grace, but has been in Kenya for almost five years now, working primarily out of Nairobi. She has worked in schools, opened clinics, and I’m pretty sure she knows everyone in Kenya.
Not only is she great with the kids at the school, she is a businessperson. She is trying to save money at every chance she can while simultaneously getting a new water tank and building a new primary school. The financial state of the school is pretty dismal, but with her at the helm, I have every confidence that soon, it will be back on its feet.
What’s really cool is that she’s passing on all her wisdom to Patricia and me- and trust me, we’re trying as hard as we can to soak as much of it in as we can. She lets us sit in on important meetings about the school, and seeing how she handles them is such a great learning experience. I feel like in the past four days at Our Lady of Grace I have learned more about business and school/non-profit administration than any internship could have taught me. We helped to create a new budget for the school and did research into how much it actually costs to sponsor each child for a year.
Hey RAs- if a floor in McVinney sponsored a child, each resident would only have to pay $5 a month for the whole school year. That supplies the tuition, food, boarding, medical care, and activities fees for one child for a whole 12 months. Think about it- this is an amazing cause, it’s connected to our Dominican tradition, and you’re saving a child’s life for a year. (This is the first of many times that Patricia and I will be harassing you to help our kids- get used to it :D).
One of the girls at the school, Mary, is 7 months pregnant, and she thought she was going into labor this afternoon. We didn’t find out until she was already on her way to the hospital, and we were concerned that no one would be able to stay with her, during the time she needed someone the most. She’s only 16, and Patricia and I volunteered to go. We later found out that she was having false labor, but we were still concerned. While we didn’t end up going to the hospital with Mary, we talked with Sister Mary about what Mary the student was going through. Sister Mary was a labor and delivery nurse, and she knew how important it would be for Mary to have someone there with her to fight for her in the delivery room. Sister Mary’s sense of justice is inspiring, and the life experiences I’ve had with her so far have taught me so much.
Today we also reorganized the kitchen, which was no small task. We say we reorganized it, but honestly, it really wasn’t very organized to begin with. It’s a very small space that has to feed a lot of people, and it’s even more chaotic than Ray (the PC dining hall) at 12:30. We added a barrier outside made of a piece of 1x4 and 2 chairs to help create some type of lunch line, and inside, we rearranged a lot of prep tables to make more floor space. Each child is issued his or her own plate and cup at the beginning of each school year, but they are frequently broken or stolen, and they never really get very clean. We devised a new system for meal times- the plates are now all stored in the kitchen, and the food is served plated, not like it was before when the children handed the cooks their own plate. This way everyone has a clean plate, and it’s easier to keep track of who has eaten and who still needs food. We also have created dishwashing crews for the children- they all earn a small amount of money by doing chores around the school, but they don’t really do those chores as frequently as they are supposed to. Patricia and I made random groupings of the older students who will wash, dry, and put dishes away on a rotating schedule. This will hopefully make mealtime more organized and less chaotic- less like 6 o’clock dinner and more like 2 o’clock lunch at Ray. Everyone will do the work at some point, and it will hopefully help to eliminate the feelings of superiority that some of the students have over the staff- and it will help the cooking staff out! This was all Sister Mary’s idea- she has a million ideas in her head, but has so much to do that it’s hard to get everything done that she wants to do. That’s where Patricia and I come in.
Just following Sister Mary around for an hour helps you to understand how remarkable she is. I got to do this yesterday while Patricia was helping out with a business studies class, and in that hour we went down to the farm attached to the school to make plans for a Saturday project, met with a member of the Dominican Laity to discuss plans for an addition to the confessional in the school chapel (a grass roof), and met with the contractors who are building the new primary school. Sister Mary really took charge in all these meetings, and in a society where women, especially Sisters, are often seen as demure and are expected to be passive, she taught the businessmen a thing or two about how to run their businesses. She is so direct and honest but tells it like it is with a joke and a smile that gets her very far. She has a very good sense of what’s fair and what’s not, and isn’t afraid to say it.
I’m always talking about how I want to be more assertive, but I’m always concerned with being too aggressive. Sister Mary exemplifies the balance between the two, and I have a feeling that by the time I leave here I’ll have a better understanding of this balance as well.
Sister Mary does all this crazy stuff during the day, and at night goes back to the house with three other Dominican Sisters from the Philippines. They’re wonderful women who are so kind, but they are very different from Sister Mary, and I can imagine that she has a difficult time living with the cultural differences. Still, she comes to Our Lady of Grace each day with a smile, and she keeps me laughing all day long while doing some really great work.
Not only is she great with the kids at the school, she is a businessperson. She is trying to save money at every chance she can while simultaneously getting a new water tank and building a new primary school. The financial state of the school is pretty dismal, but with her at the helm, I have every confidence that soon, it will be back on its feet.
What’s really cool is that she’s passing on all her wisdom to Patricia and me- and trust me, we’re trying as hard as we can to soak as much of it in as we can. She lets us sit in on important meetings about the school, and seeing how she handles them is such a great learning experience. I feel like in the past four days at Our Lady of Grace I have learned more about business and school/non-profit administration than any internship could have taught me. We helped to create a new budget for the school and did research into how much it actually costs to sponsor each child for a year.
Hey RAs- if a floor in McVinney sponsored a child, each resident would only have to pay $5 a month for the whole school year. That supplies the tuition, food, boarding, medical care, and activities fees for one child for a whole 12 months. Think about it- this is an amazing cause, it’s connected to our Dominican tradition, and you’re saving a child’s life for a year. (This is the first of many times that Patricia and I will be harassing you to help our kids- get used to it :D).
One of the girls at the school, Mary, is 7 months pregnant, and she thought she was going into labor this afternoon. We didn’t find out until she was already on her way to the hospital, and we were concerned that no one would be able to stay with her, during the time she needed someone the most. She’s only 16, and Patricia and I volunteered to go. We later found out that she was having false labor, but we were still concerned. While we didn’t end up going to the hospital with Mary, we talked with Sister Mary about what Mary the student was going through. Sister Mary was a labor and delivery nurse, and she knew how important it would be for Mary to have someone there with her to fight for her in the delivery room. Sister Mary’s sense of justice is inspiring, and the life experiences I’ve had with her so far have taught me so much.
Today we also reorganized the kitchen, which was no small task. We say we reorganized it, but honestly, it really wasn’t very organized to begin with. It’s a very small space that has to feed a lot of people, and it’s even more chaotic than Ray (the PC dining hall) at 12:30. We added a barrier outside made of a piece of 1x4 and 2 chairs to help create some type of lunch line, and inside, we rearranged a lot of prep tables to make more floor space. Each child is issued his or her own plate and cup at the beginning of each school year, but they are frequently broken or stolen, and they never really get very clean. We devised a new system for meal times- the plates are now all stored in the kitchen, and the food is served plated, not like it was before when the children handed the cooks their own plate. This way everyone has a clean plate, and it’s easier to keep track of who has eaten and who still needs food. We also have created dishwashing crews for the children- they all earn a small amount of money by doing chores around the school, but they don’t really do those chores as frequently as they are supposed to. Patricia and I made random groupings of the older students who will wash, dry, and put dishes away on a rotating schedule. This will hopefully make mealtime more organized and less chaotic- less like 6 o’clock dinner and more like 2 o’clock lunch at Ray. Everyone will do the work at some point, and it will hopefully help to eliminate the feelings of superiority that some of the students have over the staff- and it will help the cooking staff out! This was all Sister Mary’s idea- she has a million ideas in her head, but has so much to do that it’s hard to get everything done that she wants to do. That’s where Patricia and I come in.
Just following Sister Mary around for an hour helps you to understand how remarkable she is. I got to do this yesterday while Patricia was helping out with a business studies class, and in that hour we went down to the farm attached to the school to make plans for a Saturday project, met with a member of the Dominican Laity to discuss plans for an addition to the confessional in the school chapel (a grass roof), and met with the contractors who are building the new primary school. Sister Mary really took charge in all these meetings, and in a society where women, especially Sisters, are often seen as demure and are expected to be passive, she taught the businessmen a thing or two about how to run their businesses. She is so direct and honest but tells it like it is with a joke and a smile that gets her very far. She has a very good sense of what’s fair and what’s not, and isn’t afraid to say it.
I’m always talking about how I want to be more assertive, but I’m always concerned with being too aggressive. Sister Mary exemplifies the balance between the two, and I have a feeling that by the time I leave here I’ll have a better understanding of this balance as well.
Sister Mary does all this crazy stuff during the day, and at night goes back to the house with three other Dominican Sisters from the Philippines. They’re wonderful women who are so kind, but they are very different from Sister Mary, and I can imagine that she has a difficult time living with the cultural differences. Still, she comes to Our Lady of Grace each day with a smile, and she keeps me laughing all day long while doing some really great work.
“What is that?” “I don’t know... eat it!”
That has been our motto so far in Kenya in terms of food. A lot of people have asked me what my food situation has been like here, and whether or not I’ve needed the Clif Bars and peanut butter crackers I brought from home.
I am currently munching on a banana nut bread Clif Bar, but only because I’m a little hungry after a day at school. The food I’ve eaten so far has been pretty good! I’m not RAVING about it, but it’s definitely completely fine, and is absolutely nothing to complain about.
After grueling days on the mountain, we came back to gourmet food- tilapia and vegetables, chicken curry, chapatti, and other Indian-inspired foods were plentiful. It seems that there is a soup served with every meal, usually some type of vegetable. Sometimes the soup is vague- just gray. It’s usually a potato or yam-based soup, and it’s nice on rainy nights like last night! Yams here are not what you’re probably imagining: they’re bland, white vegetables that aren’t really very flavorful, just filling. Something we’ve also noticed is how common it is to have every food group represented at each meal. Every meal I’ve eaten has been well-balanced and healthy, the only dessert I’ve had since I left is fruit! I did, however, buy a Bueno bar in Switzerland that Patricia and I are saving for when we’re REALLY homesick.
In Kisumu, we really got introduced to more traditional Kenyan foods, specifically ugali and sukuma. Ugali, from what we can figure out, is maize (everyone here says maize, not corn, they think the word corn is hilarious) flour that is cooked and cooked until it’s one large lump that looks like bread dough. It’s chewy, and though it doesn’t really have a taste, it does have a distinct flavor. It’s not absorbent like mashed potatoes, and is chewier than that- think really overcooked oatmeal with less taste. While I’ve probably just made that sound quite unappealing, it’s really not that bad, and is generally served with every meal. It’s a big staple food here, along with sukuma.
Sukuma is a mixture that is primarily kale that is sautéed (I think) with onions and maybe a little garlic and olive oil, sometimes peppers are added if they’re around. Sounds plain? Well, it is, but it’s become one of my favorite Kenyan foods. I love sautéed spinach with lots of garlic and olive oil at home, so it shouldn’t really be a surprise that I like it so much. Instead of leaves of kale, it’s shredded into thin pieces, so sometimes you have to twirl it around your fork like spaghetti.
Usually the other dishes at our meals contain some type of meat. The past few days at the compound we’ve been served sausage, beef, chicken, and fish, and as is common in a lot of places, the whole fish is served. What’s different is that it’s cut in half- so there are heads and tails in a sauce in a bowl. This, however, I did not know when I first saw the bowl, I just assumed they were whole fish. I didn’t exactly know how to tackle my fish when I first saw it- so being the good friend and travel companion that I am, I passed the bowl of fish to Patricia to see how she’d handle it. Dominican meals here are family style, with lots of passing around a big oval table. By the time the bowl got back around to me, there were two pieces left- and of course, because what goes around comes around, I looked into the bowl, and two fish heads looked back. While I have tried every other food in Kenya, I was really quite uncomfortable eating something that is looking at me… so I passed on fish that night and filled up on ugali and sukuma.
Fruit that we’ve fallen in love with include passion fruit and papaya, and the oranges here are great too! Did I mention that one morning I had an avocado from the tree outside my door for breakfast? Fr. Bert halved it for Patricia and me and poured some olive oil and balsamic over it- not a traditional breakfast at all, but really good. Breakfast here is definitely different- the friars get nervous that we’re not eating enough if we only have a piece of fruit and toast for breakfast, something we’d consider acceptable in the US. A lot of times the novices reheat the dinner leftovers- chicken, fish, or whatever else is around- for breakfast. Porridge is also pretty common, which we tried, but it tastes really just like it looks: gray.
We decided that we’d make French toast for everyone on Sunday for breakfast, so today we did a practice run- thank goodness. Now, I’d consider French toast an easy dish, wouldn’t you? Something Patricia and I could definitely do. We cracked a few eggs, whisked them with some cinnamon and sugar in a bowl, and put a piece of bread on the pan. Everything’s going well… until we get to the stove. It’s an old gas stove that you have to light using a match, something I’ve never done before. I lit the flame successfully only after enlisting the help of Fr. Kevin, put the pan on the burner, and set to work. When I tried to turn the heat down, the flame simply went out. So I lit it again (all by myself!), and put the bread in the pan. We hear the sound of cooking French toast- hooray! We go to flip the piece of bread… oops. We forgot butter! No big, it only stuck to the pan in one spot. Add butter, flip bread. Carefully… lower… flame… it goes out. Another match lit, another flame on. By this time the pan is so hot that the French toast cooks on the other side in seconds- both sides are burned. Okay, well, we learned… on to the second piece. A similar chain of events and several matches later, we each have two questionable pieces of French toast. Honestly it was pretty good, and we got the hang of it by the end! Hopefully Sunday will be a lot smoother.
As for water, the Friars treat a lot of it every day so we have plenty of potable water. It’s boiled and then run through a ceramic filter at least once (usually multiple times) in order to ensure its purity. There are a ton of bottles of water in the kitchen for everyone to use- empty altar wine bottles! Some with the labels still on. When we discovered this one night at dinner it was so hard not to burst out laughing. I guess it’s recycling Kenya style!
I am currently munching on a banana nut bread Clif Bar, but only because I’m a little hungry after a day at school. The food I’ve eaten so far has been pretty good! I’m not RAVING about it, but it’s definitely completely fine, and is absolutely nothing to complain about.
After grueling days on the mountain, we came back to gourmet food- tilapia and vegetables, chicken curry, chapatti, and other Indian-inspired foods were plentiful. It seems that there is a soup served with every meal, usually some type of vegetable. Sometimes the soup is vague- just gray. It’s usually a potato or yam-based soup, and it’s nice on rainy nights like last night! Yams here are not what you’re probably imagining: they’re bland, white vegetables that aren’t really very flavorful, just filling. Something we’ve also noticed is how common it is to have every food group represented at each meal. Every meal I’ve eaten has been well-balanced and healthy, the only dessert I’ve had since I left is fruit! I did, however, buy a Bueno bar in Switzerland that Patricia and I are saving for when we’re REALLY homesick.
In Kisumu, we really got introduced to more traditional Kenyan foods, specifically ugali and sukuma. Ugali, from what we can figure out, is maize (everyone here says maize, not corn, they think the word corn is hilarious) flour that is cooked and cooked until it’s one large lump that looks like bread dough. It’s chewy, and though it doesn’t really have a taste, it does have a distinct flavor. It’s not absorbent like mashed potatoes, and is chewier than that- think really overcooked oatmeal with less taste. While I’ve probably just made that sound quite unappealing, it’s really not that bad, and is generally served with every meal. It’s a big staple food here, along with sukuma.
Sukuma is a mixture that is primarily kale that is sautéed (I think) with onions and maybe a little garlic and olive oil, sometimes peppers are added if they’re around. Sounds plain? Well, it is, but it’s become one of my favorite Kenyan foods. I love sautéed spinach with lots of garlic and olive oil at home, so it shouldn’t really be a surprise that I like it so much. Instead of leaves of kale, it’s shredded into thin pieces, so sometimes you have to twirl it around your fork like spaghetti.
Usually the other dishes at our meals contain some type of meat. The past few days at the compound we’ve been served sausage, beef, chicken, and fish, and as is common in a lot of places, the whole fish is served. What’s different is that it’s cut in half- so there are heads and tails in a sauce in a bowl. This, however, I did not know when I first saw the bowl, I just assumed they were whole fish. I didn’t exactly know how to tackle my fish when I first saw it- so being the good friend and travel companion that I am, I passed the bowl of fish to Patricia to see how she’d handle it. Dominican meals here are family style, with lots of passing around a big oval table. By the time the bowl got back around to me, there were two pieces left- and of course, because what goes around comes around, I looked into the bowl, and two fish heads looked back. While I have tried every other food in Kenya, I was really quite uncomfortable eating something that is looking at me… so I passed on fish that night and filled up on ugali and sukuma.
Fruit that we’ve fallen in love with include passion fruit and papaya, and the oranges here are great too! Did I mention that one morning I had an avocado from the tree outside my door for breakfast? Fr. Bert halved it for Patricia and me and poured some olive oil and balsamic over it- not a traditional breakfast at all, but really good. Breakfast here is definitely different- the friars get nervous that we’re not eating enough if we only have a piece of fruit and toast for breakfast, something we’d consider acceptable in the US. A lot of times the novices reheat the dinner leftovers- chicken, fish, or whatever else is around- for breakfast. Porridge is also pretty common, which we tried, but it tastes really just like it looks: gray.
We decided that we’d make French toast for everyone on Sunday for breakfast, so today we did a practice run- thank goodness. Now, I’d consider French toast an easy dish, wouldn’t you? Something Patricia and I could definitely do. We cracked a few eggs, whisked them with some cinnamon and sugar in a bowl, and put a piece of bread on the pan. Everything’s going well… until we get to the stove. It’s an old gas stove that you have to light using a match, something I’ve never done before. I lit the flame successfully only after enlisting the help of Fr. Kevin, put the pan on the burner, and set to work. When I tried to turn the heat down, the flame simply went out. So I lit it again (all by myself!), and put the bread in the pan. We hear the sound of cooking French toast- hooray! We go to flip the piece of bread… oops. We forgot butter! No big, it only stuck to the pan in one spot. Add butter, flip bread. Carefully… lower… flame… it goes out. Another match lit, another flame on. By this time the pan is so hot that the French toast cooks on the other side in seconds- both sides are burned. Okay, well, we learned… on to the second piece. A similar chain of events and several matches later, we each have two questionable pieces of French toast. Honestly it was pretty good, and we got the hang of it by the end! Hopefully Sunday will be a lot smoother.
As for water, the Friars treat a lot of it every day so we have plenty of potable water. It’s boiled and then run through a ceramic filter at least once (usually multiple times) in order to ensure its purity. There are a ton of bottles of water in the kitchen for everyone to use- empty altar wine bottles! Some with the labels still on. When we discovered this one night at dinner it was so hard not to burst out laughing. I guess it’s recycling Kenya style!
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Answering the Call
“Glory Be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit. As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end, Amen.”
I have uttered those words countless times since arriving in Kisumu. For those of you who don’t know (or haven’t figured it out by now), I’m living with the Dominican Friars here in Kenya. They’re the same order of priests who run my college, and some of the most wonderful people I have ever met. Currently on the compound, there are five friars, three novices (men who are in formation on their way to becoming friars), one almost-novice named Agostino, and Patricia and me. Three of the friars here are American and two are African- Fr. Charles is from Uganda, and I believe Fr. Steve is from Kenya. We live right next door to a house of Dominican sisters, but there is a wall separating the two religious homes.
It has been interesting to be living with the friars. I have learned so much about the men who I interact with on a daily basis in Providence, and it almost seems silly that I didn’t know this until now. A big part of the Dominican religious life is prayer several times a day, and living in the community, Patricia and I have gotten to take part in these traditions.
Though we don’t attend all the prayer options we have, we start our day with 7:15 mass. It’s usually just us, the friars, and a few members of the Dominican laiety who live nearby. It’s a nice, intimate setting, and the songs are still half in English and half in Swahili. Then we eat breakfast with the community and are off to school for the day!
We return for lunch around one after the friars and novices have said mid-day prayers, and after going back to school and returning home for the evening, we go to Vespers at 6 pm. It’s a part of the Liturgy of the Hours, which is sung and prayed in community. It’s a really beautiful service, but I think my favorite is Compline, which is after dinner. It’s usually candle lit, and is another part of the Liturgy of the Hours. It’s such a beautiful way to end the day and prepare for the next one.
Prayer has always been a part of my life, but one thing I’ll definitely be taking back with me is the dedication to prayer before bed. I usually try to say a few prayers before I go to sleep, but taking the time out of the day to pause and reflect has been really meaningful and useful during my time here. It’s very peaceful, and a nice way to gather my thoughts.
The Dominicans are such interesting people as a whole. Tonight after Vespers and before dinner, we had “recreation,” as the community has every Wednesday evening. They come together in the sitting room and have popcorn and soda and beer and tell stories. It was so nice to sit and discuss things that are going on in the US and in Kenya and hear stories of other friars who have been in Kisumu (as well as those we know in Providence). Fr. Bert, one of the friars who is here now, was one of the first Dominicans to come to Kisumu. He’s actually now stationed in Raleigh, but he comes back to Kenya as often as he can. As he says, his heart is here. He is such an interesting person, and Patricia and I are trying to spend as much time as we can with him while he’s here. He knows so much about Kenya, about the Dominican tradition, and about certain friars. Fr. Bert is a great storyteller, and I think dinner will be a lot quieter when he leaves to go back to the states. He’s always cracking jokes with the novices and with Patricia and I, and he really looks out for us. He’s very conscious of what we eat and will not hesitate to tell us if he thinks we need to eat more… one morning he picked each of us an avocado, halved it, and poured some olive oil and balsamic on it. That may have been my favorite breakfast!
The Dominicans are not the only religious in Kisumu, and Catholicism is not the only religion. There are School Sisters of Notre Dame right down the road, Franciscan Sisters who co-sponsor Our Lady of Grace School, and Jesuit priests here as well. Other than the Catholics, there are a lot of evangelical churches, as well as a mosque in the village right down the road.
Fr. Bert actually helped to build the mosque early on, and the Dominicans have a great relationship with the Imam there. It’s really cool to hear the call to prayer on the loud speakers that happens 5 times a day, the first one at 5 am. It wakes me up, but it’s nice. I like hearing it, and it’s really cool to be living somewhere so diverse. There is peace between the two religions, and the partnership is admirable.
There’s so much going on to help the people of Kisumu, and they still need so much. But what amazes me about them is their continual response to the call to prayer- even in poverty, they don’t abandon God. Their faith is strong, and I’m learning so much from them.
I have uttered those words countless times since arriving in Kisumu. For those of you who don’t know (or haven’t figured it out by now), I’m living with the Dominican Friars here in Kenya. They’re the same order of priests who run my college, and some of the most wonderful people I have ever met. Currently on the compound, there are five friars, three novices (men who are in formation on their way to becoming friars), one almost-novice named Agostino, and Patricia and me. Three of the friars here are American and two are African- Fr. Charles is from Uganda, and I believe Fr. Steve is from Kenya. We live right next door to a house of Dominican sisters, but there is a wall separating the two religious homes.
It has been interesting to be living with the friars. I have learned so much about the men who I interact with on a daily basis in Providence, and it almost seems silly that I didn’t know this until now. A big part of the Dominican religious life is prayer several times a day, and living in the community, Patricia and I have gotten to take part in these traditions.
Though we don’t attend all the prayer options we have, we start our day with 7:15 mass. It’s usually just us, the friars, and a few members of the Dominican laiety who live nearby. It’s a nice, intimate setting, and the songs are still half in English and half in Swahili. Then we eat breakfast with the community and are off to school for the day!
We return for lunch around one after the friars and novices have said mid-day prayers, and after going back to school and returning home for the evening, we go to Vespers at 6 pm. It’s a part of the Liturgy of the Hours, which is sung and prayed in community. It’s a really beautiful service, but I think my favorite is Compline, which is after dinner. It’s usually candle lit, and is another part of the Liturgy of the Hours. It’s such a beautiful way to end the day and prepare for the next one.
Prayer has always been a part of my life, but one thing I’ll definitely be taking back with me is the dedication to prayer before bed. I usually try to say a few prayers before I go to sleep, but taking the time out of the day to pause and reflect has been really meaningful and useful during my time here. It’s very peaceful, and a nice way to gather my thoughts.
The Dominicans are such interesting people as a whole. Tonight after Vespers and before dinner, we had “recreation,” as the community has every Wednesday evening. They come together in the sitting room and have popcorn and soda and beer and tell stories. It was so nice to sit and discuss things that are going on in the US and in Kenya and hear stories of other friars who have been in Kisumu (as well as those we know in Providence). Fr. Bert, one of the friars who is here now, was one of the first Dominicans to come to Kisumu. He’s actually now stationed in Raleigh, but he comes back to Kenya as often as he can. As he says, his heart is here. He is such an interesting person, and Patricia and I are trying to spend as much time as we can with him while he’s here. He knows so much about Kenya, about the Dominican tradition, and about certain friars. Fr. Bert is a great storyteller, and I think dinner will be a lot quieter when he leaves to go back to the states. He’s always cracking jokes with the novices and with Patricia and I, and he really looks out for us. He’s very conscious of what we eat and will not hesitate to tell us if he thinks we need to eat more… one morning he picked each of us an avocado, halved it, and poured some olive oil and balsamic on it. That may have been my favorite breakfast!
The Dominicans are not the only religious in Kisumu, and Catholicism is not the only religion. There are School Sisters of Notre Dame right down the road, Franciscan Sisters who co-sponsor Our Lady of Grace School, and Jesuit priests here as well. Other than the Catholics, there are a lot of evangelical churches, as well as a mosque in the village right down the road.
Fr. Bert actually helped to build the mosque early on, and the Dominicans have a great relationship with the Imam there. It’s really cool to hear the call to prayer on the loud speakers that happens 5 times a day, the first one at 5 am. It wakes me up, but it’s nice. I like hearing it, and it’s really cool to be living somewhere so diverse. There is peace between the two religions, and the partnership is admirable.
There’s so much going on to help the people of Kisumu, and they still need so much. But what amazes me about them is their continual response to the call to prayer- even in poverty, they don’t abandon God. Their faith is strong, and I’m learning so much from them.
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Today, I learned to use a semicolon...
... and was taught by a Kenyan.
The students at Our Lady of Grace School are incredible. They know so much English, which after trying to teach I can now fully comprehend how difficult it is to learn! Form II students (sophomores in high school) were dissecting poems in English today. That's what I did my sophomore year of high school.. with far more trouble than they did!
Mrs. Ryan, I was brought back to your class today in my mind while I was trying to explain indirect and direct objects. Thank you for all the hard work you did to try and catch me up on grammar so that I could try to teach it here!
I learned so much today that it's a bit overwhelming. Sr. Mary Brenda is incredible- she is here helping to direct the school, and she has so many ideas and dreams for this place. PC: GET READY. Patricia and I are coming back with a fundraising vengeance! There is so much that the school needs, and small donations from you can do SO much here. Get ready for our fundraising campaign: From Grass to Grace, It's Time for Africa.
Speaking of "It's Time for Africa," who has been watching the world cup!? It's ALL over here.. actually the only thing here. It's all anyone talks about, even though Kenya's team didn't qualify. Shakira's song "Waka Waka," which is the anthem of the world cup, is constantly on the radio. As is a TON of American music! B.o.B. has even hit here... but they LOVE Shakira! Who would have thought.
Still have a lot to process from this day, and I'll try and post again a little later tonight specifics about the school. Keep the comments and emails coming, it's honestly helping so much! Thank you for all the love and support.
Penda,
Julia
The students at Our Lady of Grace School are incredible. They know so much English, which after trying to teach I can now fully comprehend how difficult it is to learn! Form II students (sophomores in high school) were dissecting poems in English today. That's what I did my sophomore year of high school.. with far more trouble than they did!
Mrs. Ryan, I was brought back to your class today in my mind while I was trying to explain indirect and direct objects. Thank you for all the hard work you did to try and catch me up on grammar so that I could try to teach it here!
I learned so much today that it's a bit overwhelming. Sr. Mary Brenda is incredible- she is here helping to direct the school, and she has so many ideas and dreams for this place. PC: GET READY. Patricia and I are coming back with a fundraising vengeance! There is so much that the school needs, and small donations from you can do SO much here. Get ready for our fundraising campaign: From Grass to Grace, It's Time for Africa.
Speaking of "It's Time for Africa," who has been watching the world cup!? It's ALL over here.. actually the only thing here. It's all anyone talks about, even though Kenya's team didn't qualify. Shakira's song "Waka Waka," which is the anthem of the world cup, is constantly on the radio. As is a TON of American music! B.o.B. has even hit here... but they LOVE Shakira! Who would have thought.
Still have a lot to process from this day, and I'll try and post again a little later tonight specifics about the school. Keep the comments and emails coming, it's honestly helping so much! Thank you for all the love and support.
Penda,
Julia
Monday, June 14, 2010
Photos
Hello everyone!
It's a lovely day here in Kisumu, a little warm but not too bad in the shade. I'm working on uploading my photos, which is proving to take a long time. I have posted a few on facebook, but I'm putting them all on a webshots page so everyone can access them. The username is just juliatully, and when I get a link I'll put it here!
Thank you so much for the comments and emails... it really makes it easier to keep the morale up with everyone's support. You have no idea how much you brighten our days!
I'll try and post tonight about today's activities. It's only about 12:30 here, so there's not too much to report yet.
Asante sana (thank you very much),
Julia
PS: here's the link! http://community.webshots.com/user/juliatully
It's a lovely day here in Kisumu, a little warm but not too bad in the shade. I'm working on uploading my photos, which is proving to take a long time. I have posted a few on facebook, but I'm putting them all on a webshots page so everyone can access them. The username is just juliatully, and when I get a link I'll put it here!
Thank you so much for the comments and emails... it really makes it easier to keep the morale up with everyone's support. You have no idea how much you brighten our days!
I'll try and post tonight about today's activities. It's only about 12:30 here, so there's not too much to report yet.
Asante sana (thank you very much),
Julia
PS: here's the link! http://community.webshots.com/user/juliatully
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Trust
Throughout my whole journey, I have been thinking about trust. I had a lot of time to think while I was on that mountain, and I realized that trust is the big thing that every little thing I've done has in common. I thought about how much trust I've had in the pilots to get me here, in the guides on the mountain, in Patricia, and in the Dominicans. I've been flat-out amazed by the trust that the Kenyan people have in God.
I've seen a lot of Kenya since I've been here, and most of what I've driven through has been difficult to see. I thought I knew what poverty was, but poverty in the US and poverty in Kenya are completely different animals. The slums we've driven through are devastating- tiny little huts made of mud and sticks that house giant families. I got to meet a lot of families at mass this morning, and they were the kindest, most joyful and welcoming people I have ever met. They're all happy to meet Patricia and I, and I'm amazed by them. There is no other way to describe it.
We arrived in Kisumu last night, dirty and disheveled from four shower-less days on the mountain. Fr. Charles came to pick us up at the airport, bearing a sign that said Providence and a big picture of Fr. Shanley, which of course made us feel welcome. He drove us to the Dominican compound, about 40 minutes away from the airport (and right down the road from the Sisters of Notre Dame de Namur!), and we then met Fr. Bert and Fr. Kevin. We had some dinner and settled into our rooms. There is a guard dog mom with three puppies who likes to sleep on the porch of the little house we're in, and she didn't really like us being there, so we stayed in our rooms the whole night.
This morning we got up and took showers, which was an experience in and of itself. The shower is currently only cold water, though it's working on getting fixed, and it's just really a few little drips from the showerhead. We were so dirty from the mountain that it was great anyway, and after we brainstormed I think we worked out a good system to use. After the showers, we went to mass.
It reminded me of mass in New Orleans- I was one of few white people there, and everyone was warm, welcoming, and joyful. They had amazing music that they knew by heart and harmonized to, and there was a lot of clapping and swaying, almost like a concert. Fr. Bert said mass and gave a great homily, and afterward Fr. Kevin gave us a tour of the Dominican compound here.
It's very big and absolutely beautiful! It's not too hot, and there is a nice breeze. There are a few little huts outside with tables in the middle (almost like gazebos) that are so nice to sit in. We went and saw the Sisters' compound, and we expect to go over to Our Lady of Grace School a little bit later today.
Our wireless is up and running, and it's nice to be back in contact with the US. We don't have a phone yet, but I'm available by email and by commenting on the blog- I'd love to hear from you!
That's all for now... I'll try and post some photos tonight.
Penda,
Julia
I've seen a lot of Kenya since I've been here, and most of what I've driven through has been difficult to see. I thought I knew what poverty was, but poverty in the US and poverty in Kenya are completely different animals. The slums we've driven through are devastating- tiny little huts made of mud and sticks that house giant families. I got to meet a lot of families at mass this morning, and they were the kindest, most joyful and welcoming people I have ever met. They're all happy to meet Patricia and I, and I'm amazed by them. There is no other way to describe it.
We arrived in Kisumu last night, dirty and disheveled from four shower-less days on the mountain. Fr. Charles came to pick us up at the airport, bearing a sign that said Providence and a big picture of Fr. Shanley, which of course made us feel welcome. He drove us to the Dominican compound, about 40 minutes away from the airport (and right down the road from the Sisters of Notre Dame de Namur!), and we then met Fr. Bert and Fr. Kevin. We had some dinner and settled into our rooms. There is a guard dog mom with three puppies who likes to sleep on the porch of the little house we're in, and she didn't really like us being there, so we stayed in our rooms the whole night.
This morning we got up and took showers, which was an experience in and of itself. The shower is currently only cold water, though it's working on getting fixed, and it's just really a few little drips from the showerhead. We were so dirty from the mountain that it was great anyway, and after we brainstormed I think we worked out a good system to use. After the showers, we went to mass.
It reminded me of mass in New Orleans- I was one of few white people there, and everyone was warm, welcoming, and joyful. They had amazing music that they knew by heart and harmonized to, and there was a lot of clapping and swaying, almost like a concert. Fr. Bert said mass and gave a great homily, and afterward Fr. Kevin gave us a tour of the Dominican compound here.
It's very big and absolutely beautiful! It's not too hot, and there is a nice breeze. There are a few little huts outside with tables in the middle (almost like gazebos) that are so nice to sit in. We went and saw the Sisters' compound, and we expect to go over to Our Lady of Grace School a little bit later today.
Our wireless is up and running, and it's nice to be back in contact with the US. We don't have a phone yet, but I'm available by email and by commenting on the blog- I'd love to hear from you!
That's all for now... I'll try and post some photos tonight.
Penda,
Julia
Pole, Pole (pronounced po-lay, po-lay)... Slowly, Slowly.
Well, I hiked Mt. Kenya.
55 miles. (yes, miles, not kilometers...)
3 full days.
ouch.
Normally, a great day for me exercise-wise is 3 miles on the elliptical in the sea-level, air-conditioned gym while watching Real Housewives of New Jersey. This experience was far from it. We met our tour guide Robin after a four hour drive from Nairobi to Nanyuki, a small town at the base of the mountain. We had arrived in Nairobi the night before after two flights and spent the night in a hotel in the middle of the city. Here we learned that construction occurs at all times of day, specifically at midnight when you'd like to go to bed. There were also the biggest grasshoppers I have ever seen in my life ALL OVER the hotel. They jump really high, and freaked me out a lot, but I slept comfortably and was excited to start my adventure.
While eating with Robin, he told us we looked strong (ha), and explained the course of the hike. Then we got in his car and drove to the Sirimon gate, where we would start our hike. The drive to the gate took about 45 minutes, and the road was dirt. This was problematic when it started to rain- did I mention Robin drives a 1986 Toyota Corolla? It was a little muddy, to say the least. We got to the gate and started our trek up. We encountered a family of baboons, and 2 1/2 hours later we were at Old Moses Camp, where we stayed the first night. The first day was mostly uphill, and I know it sounds silly, but I expected it to be at least a little bit flat. It rarely plateaued at all, and it was a difficult first day. We ate dinner when we got to Old Moses- Tilappia, vegetables, and potatoes that were delicious! Soon after we ate we went right to sleep- with no problem, seeing as we were exhausted.
The next day was the hardest. We hiked for 8 hours to Shipton Camp- the altitude was tough, it was cold, rainy, windy, and muddy, and by the time we got there I was happy to just be sitting. My whole body hurt- I couldn't wait to be asleep. It was an absolutely beautiful view, which I discovered after I got up and was less cranky. We were cradled in the peaks of the mountain, and the stars were amazing. Unlike anything I've ever seen in my whole life. We went to bed early, because we got up at 2:30 am to go to the summit!
It was very cold, the air was very thin, and I was having a very difficult time breathing. I gave up about 500 m from the top- I just couldn't do it anymore knowing that once I got down I'd need to hike all the way back to Old Moses Camp. I climbed back down with Robin, whose frequent calls of "Hi Julie..." to which I responded "Hi Robin..." in a singsong manner reminded me of the movie Cool Runnings: "Ya dead?" "No, man...". We went through area that apparently had "many hyena," which I wish Robin had told me after we got through it. But I made it back to Shipton and went back to sleep to wait for Patricia to make it down. She made it all the way to the summit with another guide, Nicholas! I was happy for her, but from what she tells me, I'm glad I chose to turn around when I did. It was very hard!
We made it back to Old Moses Camp in 5 hours- we learned that I do much better going down than I do going up, so I didn't slow the group down any longer. The next day was just 2 hours down to Sirimon Gate, and I have never been happier to see a big stone wall than I was that day. Right before we reached the gate, we saw a family of elephants accross the mountain! There were three of them, and they looked like giant rocks with tusks until they started moving. Apparently they're pretty dangerous, so we were lucky not to be close to them. We also encountered some more baboons, other monkeys, and zebras on our way down. At the top of the mountain there were these funny little animals like groundhogs called Cape Hyrax, they're pretty friendly and definitely wanted our food. I got some good pictures, which I will try to post later.
My mantra on the mountain was "Pole, pole," which in Kiswahili means "slowly, slowly." I made it up and back, slowly but surely.
55 miles. (yes, miles, not kilometers...)
3 full days.
ouch.
Normally, a great day for me exercise-wise is 3 miles on the elliptical in the sea-level, air-conditioned gym while watching Real Housewives of New Jersey. This experience was far from it. We met our tour guide Robin after a four hour drive from Nairobi to Nanyuki, a small town at the base of the mountain. We had arrived in Nairobi the night before after two flights and spent the night in a hotel in the middle of the city. Here we learned that construction occurs at all times of day, specifically at midnight when you'd like to go to bed. There were also the biggest grasshoppers I have ever seen in my life ALL OVER the hotel. They jump really high, and freaked me out a lot, but I slept comfortably and was excited to start my adventure.
While eating with Robin, he told us we looked strong (ha), and explained the course of the hike. Then we got in his car and drove to the Sirimon gate, where we would start our hike. The drive to the gate took about 45 minutes, and the road was dirt. This was problematic when it started to rain- did I mention Robin drives a 1986 Toyota Corolla? It was a little muddy, to say the least. We got to the gate and started our trek up. We encountered a family of baboons, and 2 1/2 hours later we were at Old Moses Camp, where we stayed the first night. The first day was mostly uphill, and I know it sounds silly, but I expected it to be at least a little bit flat. It rarely plateaued at all, and it was a difficult first day. We ate dinner when we got to Old Moses- Tilappia, vegetables, and potatoes that were delicious! Soon after we ate we went right to sleep- with no problem, seeing as we were exhausted.
The next day was the hardest. We hiked for 8 hours to Shipton Camp- the altitude was tough, it was cold, rainy, windy, and muddy, and by the time we got there I was happy to just be sitting. My whole body hurt- I couldn't wait to be asleep. It was an absolutely beautiful view, which I discovered after I got up and was less cranky. We were cradled in the peaks of the mountain, and the stars were amazing. Unlike anything I've ever seen in my whole life. We went to bed early, because we got up at 2:30 am to go to the summit!
It was very cold, the air was very thin, and I was having a very difficult time breathing. I gave up about 500 m from the top- I just couldn't do it anymore knowing that once I got down I'd need to hike all the way back to Old Moses Camp. I climbed back down with Robin, whose frequent calls of "Hi Julie..." to which I responded "Hi Robin..." in a singsong manner reminded me of the movie Cool Runnings: "Ya dead?" "No, man...". We went through area that apparently had "many hyena," which I wish Robin had told me after we got through it. But I made it back to Shipton and went back to sleep to wait for Patricia to make it down. She made it all the way to the summit with another guide, Nicholas! I was happy for her, but from what she tells me, I'm glad I chose to turn around when I did. It was very hard!
We made it back to Old Moses Camp in 5 hours- we learned that I do much better going down than I do going up, so I didn't slow the group down any longer. The next day was just 2 hours down to Sirimon Gate, and I have never been happier to see a big stone wall than I was that day. Right before we reached the gate, we saw a family of elephants accross the mountain! There were three of them, and they looked like giant rocks with tusks until they started moving. Apparently they're pretty dangerous, so we were lucky not to be close to them. We also encountered some more baboons, other monkeys, and zebras on our way down. At the top of the mountain there were these funny little animals like groundhogs called Cape Hyrax, they're pretty friendly and definitely wanted our food. I got some good pictures, which I will try to post later.
My mantra on the mountain was "Pole, pole," which in Kiswahili means "slowly, slowly." I made it up and back, slowly but surely.
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Mailing Address
Hi Friends!
Some of you have asked about my mailing address while in Kenya. I don't know how reliable or quick Kenyan mail is, but I found the address of the community I'll be staying in!
Julia Tully
c/o St. Martin de Porres Community
P.O. Box 2566
40100 Kisumu
KENYA
40100 Kisumu
KENYA
Tomorrow!
Hi everyone!
Well, tomorrow is the big day... after months of waiting and preparing, I'll get on board Swiss Air to Zurich, then another flight from Zurich to Nairobi! Each is about 8 hours. Once we get to Nairobi, we're staying at a hotel for the night. Then we're off to start our four day hike up Mt. Kenya!
I'm not sure when the next time we'll have internet access will be, but once I have it, I'll keep you updated! Thank you for the love, support, and prayers of everyone during this whole process. I couldn't have done it alone, especially without Patricia! Check her blog out too: pcinkenya.blogspot.com!
Next post from Kenya!
Penda,
Julia
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