Article 13 Initiative - Blog

Habari ya subuhi,

It is now about halfway through our time here in Kenya, and I’m starting to feel the effects of being away from home for almost a month. I am not homesick as I had well expected to be, but I certainly am tired. And I do miss hugs. And with less than one month to go, I’m already beginning to feel a bit nostalgic (if that’s even possible) about everything here and what I will be leaving behind when I go. I have become incredibly close to some of the members of SHOFCO, and while we do have this power of technology and of email, there is absolutely nothing that can compare to the real thing: in-person communication. That being said, I look forward to seeing many of you when I return home to share my stories in person, and hear your stories about the past several months!

Week two of our workshops was eventful, in that the group passed in their editorials on issues relating to poverty and were able to present them to the rest of the group for feedback. Following this, we spent much time discussing interviewing and the second assignment has been for each member to go out ‘into the field’ as we fondly say, and interview a member of the Kibera community. This task has yielded some fascinating results, where some interviewed relatives, while others interviewed salonists, footballers, politicians, and prostitutes. The interviews were all presented today in class, and I was thrilled to see the vast improvement made by some in terms of their confidence and audibility! Hope United certainly has grown together, complimenting one another and encouraging good efforts, while the Dove continues to be more private about their successes, and less generous in their praise of one another. Today, as Peris read her interview with a pastor, she made a joke without realizing it, telling us that she had been part of the church since nine months before she was born, which put everyone in stitches, and I think did wonders for her sense of self. The shy and quiet Peris who began three weeks ago is blossoming!

This week, we have spent some time discussing issues that are pertinent yet often hushed, and so delved into discussion about stereotypes and culture. Apparantly Luhyas are thought to have fat calves because they eat too much ugali, Luos are thought to be very proud and will wear a suit and tie to work even if they are doing janitorial work, and Rastas are presumed to be Mungiki. Yesterday we broke down many of the misconceptions about slum-dwellers in a culture walk, in which we identified what others think about the culture, what the group wants the world to know about the culture, and what others can do to support it. At the centre of all of these discussions was this idea that we are all fundamentally human beings; all the rest of our wrappings and behaviours are secondary, and are not good enough grounds from which to draw conclusions.

On Friday of last week, I surprised Wojciech and Anne with a birthday cake, which Kennedy and I sneakily left to purchase during one of our fieldwork periods. Both were quite surprised and happy, and the whole group was quite willing and eager to share in the merriment by consuming a piece of cake, which is a luxury. Vicky kept asking for the cardboard box, so that he could lick the extra icing from it, but in the end it went to Martin and Victor at Kennedy’s discretion. Wojciech’s birthday is actually on July 1, and the celebrations continued through the weekend.

Wojciech and I took Saturday and Monday off to go with the Silomas (our host family) to Masai Mara National Park. It was an absolutely incredible weekend despite the very long drive to and from the park (7 hours or so each way). We saw hippos bathing in a river, giraffes grazing on thorn trees, hyenas waiting for the leftover buffalo meat just after a kill, lions dozing under the shade of the potent-smelling cranton tree, zebras and ostriches pacing through the savannah grass, a herd of elephants, two beautiful and fast sunsets, one sunrise, pairs of crown cranes who mate for life, impala, gazelles, bushbuck, baboons, yellow pipets, buzzards, and the maribu storks that are so reminiscent of pacing old men. We joked often that we also kept spotting wazungu (white people), because Masai Mara is certainly a tourist destination and suddenly we found ourselves not so ridiculously conspicuous as we had been in Ngong or Nairobi.

On Sunday, as Canada turned 140, Wojciech turned 21, and we were woken up early in the morning by Noah and Joel who burst into the room shouting “surprise!” and singing happy birthday. Unfortunately, Wojciech was in the washroom at the time, but the boys were happy enough to give a repeat performance after he emerged. The Silomas gave him a “happy birthday uncle” card, which I think is the first Wojciech has ever received, and a beautiful rugby shirt with the Kenyan flag on it. At dinner, we also thoroughly embarrassed him as the waiters came singing “Jambo” and “Happy Birthday,” followed by the beginning of a traditional Masai song and dance that then moved out onto the patio for the enjoyment of the rest of the patrons. Noah was somehow swept up with the Masai men, and we recovered him much later, as he stood with them as they sang. It was funny to see Joel suddenly so shy, not wanting to go and join the merriment, when normally Joel is loud and Noah much more hesitant.

At SHOFCO this week, I have begun to receive ‘formal’ Kiswahili lessons from Eric, who has taken it upon himself to tutor me. I now have a good five pages of words to revise, as he reminded me that I must practice if I hope to learn anything…and I am certainly tested frequently. I think they think it is fun to quiz me on words, and often people will turn to me and accidentally talk to me in Kiswahili, which makes me feel very much a part of the group (despite not actually being able to understand it!). They must somehow sense that I am feeling at home with them and forget to catch themselves and speak to me in English. Dakika tano kabla ya usiku wa manane is Five Minutes to Midnight in Kiswahili!

There is a new movement afoot at SHOFCO due to the fact that many of the members who are not involved with our workshops have been feeling mildly put out. Thus, a woman named Cara has arrived from Northern Ireland to run workshops on management, leadership, and sustainability. These workshops will be taking place over the course of the next two weeks, but will occur down at the other SHOFCO office. We are now beginning to plan for a joint ceremony for a certificate presentation for the other group and a ‘launch party’ of our group’s newsletter on the last Sunday that we are here. I am really looking forward to spending some time just being with the group, without the pressure of having to teach or be a reference.

Yesterday during our chai break, we had the privilege of watching Jeff Ochieng give a repeat performance of a fun story he told during one of my classes. I had asked him if it would be ok to film him, and he happily obliged. With the assistance of Erick Maiko, Maurice, and Vicky, Jeff narrated the sad tale of Nyola Amnyolole Kombo and Osontoto and the difference between living in the city and living in the village. I have yet to see if it was properly recorded, but Jeff has promised us a few more stories before we go, so hopefully I will be able to catch those on film as well.

There has been a striking change in the comfort level of the group this week, in that we are feeling more at ease and more familiar with one another. Hence, we have started to see a laxness arise, whereby many are coming late in the morning, or failing to arrive back in time. As well, there is a new flirtatiousness among everyone, which is harmless but certainly makes some of the sessions more electric. I found myself doubled over in gales of laughter yesterday when I read an update from a friend of mine in France, talking about the imaginary boyfriend she had created for herself in order to dodge amorous French men. She says that sometimes he is in Canada waiting for her, while other times he is around the corner, getting his knives sharpened at the nearest hardware store.

Eric has now taken to calling me Ms. Banana because of the sweater I have that says “Hannah Banana” on it. It’s kind of sweet the way everyone seems to nickname each other, and the mood has become light-hearted because of it. Erick Maiko is Mr. Embargo because of how often he uses that word, Vicky is Mama Flava, and John is Speedo. Everyone also seems to have their own little catch-phrase, which when used properly can elicit storms of laughter. “Yeahmon” is Martin’s, “Okee Okee” is Quizzer’s, “Shooah” meaning ‘sure’ is Maurice’s, “You get?” is Kennedy’s, and “multitudinous” seems to be Wojciech’s new favourite word.

This morning on the matatu ride to namba nane (number eight), we met a woman who tried to convince us to come to her church on Sunday, and moreover, to study the Bible. She told us that she didn’t start living until she found God, and asked me if I believed in God? Not wanting to get into a big long conversation on the bus, I skirted the question by asking her another question about her church, but I find myself coming up against this question frequently! I can only avert the issue for so long by explaining my Jewish father and Christian mother, neither of whom are particularly religious. I have been told by some here that my confusion over or lack of religion is a mistake on the part of my parents, but I think I’m grateful for the freedom that this has given me to explore and to understand religions in an unbiased way. Who would have thought that a white woman would arrive in Kenya to be coaxed into Christianity by the locals, where even until today, many mzungu missionaries are here to do just the opposite!

It’s time for me to sign out, since Wojciech and I are going to sort through photos and make some decisions about what is going into the book! Until next time…

Mimi wako,

Hannah