Reflections

On the London Eye

I've been back in the UK for a few days now and had a little time enough to reflect on my experiences...

Being away has certainly made me appreciate being home more than ever before so I'd be really glad that I went away if it was only for that - to appreciate what I have here. It's also revealed to me just how 'English' I am. That may sound daft but I never realised it truly before.

If you want to know more about who you are take away everything that is familiar, all those little extensions of yourself that you rely on for affirmation every day without realising it. Go somewhere where nobody knows you and listen to what you choose to tell people about yourself and the choices you make about how to treat people you may never see again. Measure how well you cuturally adjust and how often you have to question your own assumptions - is that really right or wrong or does my own culture just tell me that it is? Maybe it is wrong and if so should it inspire anger or pity in me or both? Find out how much you like yourself in this new situation and see how much you long to come home and finally ask yourself how much you miss it all when you do get back.

There were things I didn't like about myself in Kenya, in Nairobi in particular (but it is a city designed to drive you over the edge). In another sense in being there to help others it meant I was being more true to myself. Now I'm home, now home has folded its cold, damp, loving arms around me and drawn me back into the fold I'm left feeling wholly selfish. It's true that I walked around London on Monday all day by myself and didn't have to argue with anyone, not one single confrontation but it's also true that I've come home to face other issues I was able to avoid in Kenya.

I've been at my brother's house and we've been looking through photos from Mwamba. I'm so glad to be home but I do miss it now, it kind of hurts that I can't go back whenever I want to. I'm so happy to be home I could jump right back into my life again and forget about Kenya but I know I'd regret that . I hope I'm able to retain some of the sense that 'the rest of the world does not live like we do'. I hope now I don't have to walk through the slums that I'm able to remember how they looked. I guess it's up to me to take what I want from the experiences I've had, to decide how I want to change and move on and right now that's a little bit scary...

Counting the hours...and the blessings...

Most of what Peter promised I would be involved with in Nairobi simply hasn't materialised. I was looking forward to helping children to read in Kangemi but I won't be doing that now. I was going to assist with computer lessons in Kibera but that was also a non-starter. It's been a strange and confusing time , these last 3 week but it's not all been in vain.
Before I go home and look for jobs and projects to be involved with I've had a timely reminder about how to evaluate situations and learning to trust my instincts. It's funny how the older we get we trust our feelings less and less but we must learn to listen to that inner voice we call instinct, intuition, whatever you will. Drawing the distinction between the two is so vital for getting anywhere in life.

I've had the chance for an extended holiday and seen parts of the country I never thought I'd get to see. Yesterday, for want of anything better to do I got a matatu out to Lake Magadi. My guide book describes it so well I think I'll steal the description:
"Lake Magadi is a vast shallow pool of soda, a sludge of alkaline water and crystal trona deposits lying in a Rift Valley depression 1000m below Nairobi. This is one of the hottest places in the country...a barren spit of land jutting out across the mulitcoloured soda..." (Richard Trillo 1999)

Going to one of the hottest places in the country after losing my hat and running out of suncream wasn't the wisest move but this was one place where I was guaranteed to see flamingoes. I've been so lucky with my wildlife spotting recently I thought I would add flamingoes to the list, another brightly coloured creature that you only see in books or on TV if you grow up in England. Now the only animal I've really missed while here is the lion. Still, I need a reason to come back to Kenya, maybe lion spotting and a balloon ride over the Maasi Mara one day...

I did see flamingoes, from a distance but the day went a little downhill after that. I had to wait an hour for the return matatu in the town square. Have you ever watched a Western where a stranger comes into town and loiters for too long? The townsfolk push their children in doors and pull down their shutters, any children left outside arm themselves with stones just in case and the adults watch from across the street, shaking their heads. Eventually the sherrif approaches the stranger to find out what the problem is. Of course there has to be a problem, why would any white tourist (who is obviously wealthy) come to a dusty hole in the ground like Magadi? I was beginning to ask myself the same question when the matatu finally arrived and I managed to escape.

The one project with which I have managed to help Peter has surprised me by how much I've enjoyed it. One of his personal ventures is a filmclub for high school students in an area called Pumwani. He's been teaching them the basics of everything from story structure to how to use a digital camera and I've assisted with lessons and occasionally taken some parts of the class.
Despite us all speaking English there have still been language barriers. I often speak too fast for them or use phrases they haven't come across. They were mostly unresponsive in the beginning, probably not sure how to respond appropriately to this strange white woman. Ultimately though they've shown themselves to be a really positive group of young people. I think they're keen to learn and grateful some stranger has come to teach them, which has helped them see beyond my skin colour.

I'm not a natural teacher but to an extent anyone can teach what they enjoy and I've been reminded just how much I do enjoy talking about plots and characters, what constitutes a theme or makes a good ending. These students are not the very poorest the city has to offer although some of them live in Majengo, next toPumwani, which is fairly infamous according to Peter (and smells pretty bad I've noticed). They're all in high school which means they're the lucky ones but they've all had to fight to get there. As part of learning about acting they each had to write a profile, most of which I've read and its obvious they've not had easy lives. A lot have lost a parent and many have had to move around schools and are still completing Form 4 when they're old enough to be finishing college. Probably none, or very few of them will go to college unless they can get sponsorship. It feels worthwhile teaching them about film simply because they're interested in it and its one of the few free gifts that they will get. They won't get taught about it in school and they caught afford college courses. I feel like we're giving them the gift of encouragement if nothing else and despite my short time with them I'm going to miss the class.

Being here has given me time to catch up with Lispa once or twice. She's resigned from her job with A Rocha which wasn't a surprise. It sounds like they're going through a tough time at Mwamba at the moment. Another staff member has also had to leave and Colin is due back any day now which could help but also rock the boat considerably. I feel relieved to have left when I did but also sad for them. But it's more than time to go home now. I can't wait! For all the cold and the dark and the high prices and the economic recession and the long waits for buses it's still home! Being away has made me realise how lucky I am to have the home that I do.

Experiences that haven't made into the blog include:
Running away from elephants with Lispa in Arabuko Sokoke Forest.

Losing my phone on the beach at Mwamba and then getting given money to buy a new one straight away.

A confrontation with a policeman on my first night in Nairobi when Rachel told him to his face he only wanted to bribe us - in Swahili!

A power line nearly falling on my matatu in Karen

Getting to stroke a Cheetah on the Nairobi Park Safari Walk.

The matatu hitting a donkey on the way to Lake Magadi!

The endless confrontations I've had with random people in the street, in parks, on buses wanting my phone number and wanting money from me.

Living at the Glory Star (Gory Scar) Hostel and getting lifts home in the back of someone's driving lesson (this morning I got a lift into town in a truck!)


For Those Who Pray
Thank you!

Thank you for praying for me for my safety, for my health, for finishing off well with A Rocha (my information display made it onto the wall).

There have been times when I've known people have prayed for me, situations where I could actually feel it.

Thank God that he's kept me in once piece and is bringing me safely home.

Going Up-country

So after changing my flight nearly a week went passed without me doing anything and it felt like staying in Kenya had been a waste of time. I kept asking Peter for things to do and they kept falling through. Changing my flight again would have been too expensive so I knew I'd just have to stick it out although Nairobi was beginning to feel like a prison.

There's only so many times you can wander around the same park and only so much Swahili you can learn without help (I find anyway) and only so many books you can read before you run out of books. I felt like I should have been at home looking for a job instead of over heating in this stuffy city doing nothing except breathing in lungfulls of black smoke and eating endless plates of pilau rice. I began to feel like I was being held under water and needed to come up for air.

Finally on the Saturday we managed to pull together a meeting of the youth film club in Pumwani. I got to watch one of Kenya's top films of recent times, "Malooned" and discuss it with a bunch of high school students afterwards. It was hard to tell if it had been helpful to them as they didn't react much but I've found that Kenyans don't give much away, sometimes it's hard to prize anything out of them (like directions to somewhere). Then I had nothing to do again until the following Thursday.

Saturday night was Rachel's last evening in Kenya. She'd also been hanging around waiting for someone to give her things to do, although obviously her "things" included bats but she felt her opportunities had run out and it was time to move on. I felt a lot more inspired after talking to her. I'd wanted to take a trip to Hell's Gate National Park as it's about the only one you can walk around in by yourself but didn't think I could afford it. When Rachel told me you could hire a bicycle to go round and I pictured doing that instead of sitting in Jevanshee Gardens in Nairobi yet again I knew I had to go. Her answer was to put it on my credit card, mine was to try and do it with the money I had. Even if I had to eat nothing but beans and ugali for the next 10 days it would be worth it.

I got up at 5.30am on Monday and got a Matatu while it was still dark, risky but it was the only way I could get into town early enough. It turned out to be a wasted early start. Matatus don't leave at set times, they wait until they're full and then go. This works fine on the shorter local routes which fill up fast and there are always plenty of vans going anyway but sometimes on the longer journeys there just aren't enough people who want to travel (despite the driver's futile attempts to pull random passersby off the street on the offchance that they might want to go to Lake Naivasha for the day).
I got fed up after waiting half an hour and then found out my fellow patient Kenyan passengers had been there for considerably longer. There was a lot of complaining and shouting back and forth with the operating team who had already taken our money and didn't care what we thought. If Kenyans are getting fed up with this way of running public transport I think it must be on its way out soon. I don't think they liked me much as I got dropped in Naivasha on the side of the road without any further help but I found Hell's Gate easily enough. Rachel was right, they hired bicycles for a reasonable price and I was off. Unfortunately I was so eager I didn't stop to stock up on water, rookie mistake.

I presume you're allowed round Hell's Gate on foot due to the lack of dangerous animals, there are no elephants, rhinos, leopards or lions there. The park is actually a huge natural gorge in the rocks so you cycle along surrounded by high red cliffs on either side which make pretty spectacular scenery even without the animals. I'd only been going a few minutes however when a herd of zebra came down the hillside in front of me. Having been in Tsavo East where you have to stay in the van at all times this was like being set free in a sweet shop. I was able to stand within a few feet of zebras, wharthogs and, surprisingly giraffes. It was a surprise because the guidebook didn't mention there were any giraffes in Hell's Gate, definitely a highlight of the day, coming round the corner and seeing a long face peering at me through the tree tops. There were buffaloes too which watched me warily as I passed. They are a dangerous animal if irritated.

I wondered why there weren't more incidents of animals attacking humans as, despite the warning signs people are prone to some very stupid behaviour sometimes. But I think once you get close enough to these creatures and become aware of their true size and strength and that they could out run your bicycle if they wanted to its easy enough to follow the rules and stay away. I also saw ostritches in the distance looking like big clumps of feathers on legs, their heads always on the ground and many different types on antelope and buck.

As well as not mentioning the giraffes neither the guidebook or Kenya Wildlife Service had mentioned how steep some of the paths were. By half way round I was exausted, having to push my bike and I'd run out of water. The next two hours were a mixture of an exhilarating rocky descent on my bike, including coming off a few times (not getting hurt but completely covered in dirt each time) and absolute misery as my thirst increased. When I reached the bottom it was only 5km back to the gate but the wind was against me the whole way. There's also a lot of sand in the park which is impossible to ride in, only a small layer can force your wheel to the side and throw you off leading to constant stopping and starting.

I don't remember ever feeling as thirsty in my life as I was back at the gate. I paid the extortionate 240 shillings for a litre and a half of water and a bottle of coke and managed to not cry in front of the woman who sold them to me. Then I limped the last 2-3 kilometres up the road to the YMCA which turned out to be the perfect end to the day. Not only did they charge me just 500 shillings for the night for a banda which was supposed to be shared but no one else turned up to share it, but the place was beautifully kept. People and poverty mean a lot of areas of natural beauty I've seen in Kenya have been covered in rubbish but the manager of Naivasha YMCA was obviously a keen gardener as well as a tidy man, not a piece of plastic in site just plenty of newly planted saplings and neat pathways.

In the morning I set off through the acacia trees to try and find the lake. It seems to have receeded even further than I'd heard and the land around has been swallowed up by the huge flower growing corporations. I couldn't find the shore just what looked like an outlet from one of the factories and I was about to turn back when I realised a hippo had swum up the stream and was just below me. He didn't like me watching him and climbed out, onto the opposite bank thankfully, but this gave me the perfect opportunity to take his picture.