Kenya 2008

Last year, students from Pirrar Secondary School for Girls in the Transmara District recited this poem for me among many other "dramas" and performances. These girls, whose parents pay high prices for their secondary education (i.e., equivalent to high school) sleep in the room next to the classroom. Their outpouring of enthusiasm for education in the midst of having nothing that we privileged Westerners have (like electricity, clean water, toilets, sealed windows, adequate textbooks, air conditioning) was enough to bring me to tears. They marveled not only at my camera, but also at the scent of my moisturizer, the spiral-binding of my notebook, the color of my US dollar bill, the texture of my chap stick.

I couldn't fathom how spoiled we are. I couldn't take it. I cried that night.

Their school was burned down in the post-election riots that erupted earlier this year.

Not long after my visit to Pirrar, I visited another school called Tororet Primary School which serves over 200 students. Primary education is free (up to 8th grade), but I was not prepared for what I saw. The walls of one building were wooden planks with holes wide enough for children to walk through. They don't have floors -- the dirt becomes a muddy mess when it rains, in which children sludge around barefoot. Their library consists of two walls with practically barren shelves, and the 6 teachers share one desk in their one mud-floored office.

Nevertheless, just because I came to visit -- me, a mzungu (white person) -- the whole school put on a performance [see video below] and gave speeches. For me! I did nothing that day but take pictures to be used in creating awareness and requesting donations when I got back to the States; and I haven't been too successful with that. They asked me to give a speech, and presented me with two hard boiled eggs and a cup of chai. And later, they presented a bracelet handmade by the students using tire rubber and beads 'from the city'. I will cherish that forever.

The students and faculty were inspired by my simple visit. They said (as it was translated to me from a parent's speech in Swahili) whenever a mzungu (aka, white person; to them, Chinese are also white) comes to see them, it is a good omen. We bring good fortune to them.

How does one respond to that? I was floored. I had already brought donations of school supplies to another school (where they also held a ceremony by placing all my things on a table, bringing in a battery-powered megaphone, giving speeches and performances, and sharing a feast of goat meat soup), so I didn't have anything to give to Tororet.


I still don't know how to reciprocate Tororet's generosity. There are too many schools with too much need in this area; the donations I'm collecting this time are going to be split between two other schools/orphanages (Dago Dela Hera and Sirua Aulo Academy). Both these places need the school supplies as much as Tororet. I only wish all the people who have generously contributed items will be able to be there with me to see the faces of these precious children as I open the suitcase and say, "Here. These are for you." I will do my best to take pictures and videos as much as possible so you can see the good you have done for these wonderful children.

Last year, I went to the country without any idea what I would encounter. This time, I enter armed with nullified culture shock and another year's experience as a speech-language pathologist. I've had comparatively extensive contact this time with my village hosts, who have coordinated with me on how to make the best use of my time and specific skills.

Although I am going for exactly 3 weeks between June 19 and July 9, the unfortunate reality is that a whole week is used up just to get to these rural villages and back (2 days flying, 1 day bus ride over mock-roads). I will have 7 days at Dago with my host Patrick (yet to meet), and 8 days at Sirua Aulo with host Emmanuel (same from last year). Both have delineated a rough itinerary for me:

Hello,

Glad to hear your exicited about your final times before you travel.
We cant wait to be part of Dago in 2 weeks.

We have 7 days with you, short but will make the best of it when you come.
The first 2 days you will spend with a mother and her 2 disabled kids.
The 3rd day you spend with a mother a disabled widow woman who has 5
kids, they just lost there house to the wind 3 weeks ago and have
moved in at the grandmothers house.
4th and 5th day, you spend at the childrens center, helping with everything.
6th day, you spend at the disabled school, they attend classes half
day, then later taught practical work, ie farm work and shop keeping.
Last day at the center with the community and leaders.

Hope that works with you.
Any changes will be addressed, your allowed to change schedule, when
your here, coz im sure you can want more time at a certain point.

Cant wait to meet you.

Patrick

-----

Linda Nashipai,

I hope this message finds you well and ready preparing to come home. I know there tons of questions you may need to ask, but be sure that Lord’s hand is in your trip and all will be well. I intend to pick you up during the early hours of the 29^thJune from Keroka. Thereafter, we head for home. We will have a our first staff session in the afternoon- and I hope it will dwell around handling children with disabilities and empowering children through speech. It can be an hour session or at most 1 and half hour.

On the 30^th June, you will be handling two kids, Leeyio and Brian who have some disabilities in their speech and handling of the 20+ kids in the introductory and nursery class- this will take you 2 days.

2^nd July- class one

3^rd July- class two

4^th July- class three and a staff session in the afternoon.

5^th July- Travel to Nakuru

6^th July- Game viewing

7^th July-Travel to Nairobi.

Each evening, we’ll be going through website content until the day you head back. Kindly bring the school one ball if you still some room in your luggage. Safe Travel.

Blessings and Love,

Emmanuel

I am intimidated at the prospect of being their one resource for the special needs population and the first volunteer back to the area after it was closed off from the threat of violence earlier this year. I am at the same time thrilled out of my mind to return to a place where love, hope, and happiness are at its purest, unencumbered by materialism, gluttony, greed. I'm anxious about my health and safety, as I will be days away from medical help should anything happen. Most of all, I am concerned that I won't be effective/useful enough to them, to be able to do something to help that will last. For these things, I trust in God to carry me through and use me as He sees fit. At the same time, I ask for your prayerful support throughout the journey and thank you in advance for it, so I know you will be with us in spirit.

----

[As the camera pans to the right, the adults at the table to my left are the school principal and a parent representative. On my right are the teachers, but I don't pan over to them on this clip. The students are performing a traditional Maasai chant about the moran returning home safely. At the time, many students were out at a district-wide music/dance festival and competition (which I was later able to attend! I might upload a clip of it where they do the same song in full regalia), but the remaining students did a magnificent job, don't you think?!]