Thursday, April 9, 2009

Update

I think this is going to be a very mundane post, since I don’t have much to report or any pictures to show, but I wanted to check in at least once this week since I’m not sure I’ll be able to in the next few weeks. Our last phase of training begins on Monday, so we’re all required to be in Nairobi by Sunday evening. I am going to stay with another volunteer Friday and Saturday, and then head down on Sunday. I’ve been looking forward to a break from my routine and seeing everyone for a while. I feel like it’s Christmas Eve and I am about 10 years old I’m so excited.

Last weekend I went to another town to visit a volunteer. The town is right on the equator and at the head of two of the trails to climb Mt Kenya, so it’s much more of a tourist stop than my town. It hustles and bustles while my town shuffles. And the people hustle too, in the rip-off-the-white-tourist kind of way. The other volunteer and I went to the sign that says “You’re on the equator” so I could get a picture. Just as we saw the sign, a man came up to us and told us he wanted to escort us to it. He offered to take our picture for us and show us how water swirls (something about it goes one way on the north side and the other way on the south…google it). The “payment” for all his helpfulness was to go check out his hut of tourist souvenirs. His was number 8 of about 20 huts lined up with the same stuff and the same persistent sellers urging us to come see what they had to offer. He promised us “no hassle” while we looked, which he seemed to define as only harassing us a little as he followed us around and picked up every item he thought I looked at to show us what a good item it was. Most of the stuff was either beaded jewelry or items carved out of wood and stone. Wooden safari animals and bowls were common, and then random animals, chess sets, globes, and even a Scrabble board made out of soapstone or sandstone. I bought a few things to send home, but not much. And of course I had to bargain for them. The man at the first hut I bought from was easy to negotiate with, but the woman at the second hut asked 2500 shillings for something I was going to offer 150 for. We settled on 300, which in my opinion was still too much, but if you convert to US dollars, that’s about $4 and I guess it was ok. I was most excited to buy a woven basket for myself. All of the mamas make them and use them mostly when they go to the market. I’ve been wanting one since training and almost bought one in my town, but I’m glad I held out for this one because I like it better than any other I’ve seen.

After we had seen enough of the same bowls and animals and things, we headed back toward town. And then the sky opened up and poured on us and my new basket. We tried to share an umbrella for a minute, and then gave up and ducked under shelter to wait out the rain. We stayed under cover for about 15 minutes until it was only sprinkling, and then made our way back to the center of town and had chai. It was great to see the other volunteer and even better to do some shopping (I do so little of it here)! I’ve decided not to lug my laptop to Nairobi, so I will be computer free for the 10 days of training and the week following while I’m in Uganda. However, I will get up a full report, hopefully with pictures, when I get back from those adventures, so stay tuned…

Miss you all! Love me.

Wednesday, April 1, 2009

Give Me a Biscuit

The rainy season is here. This means I wake up every morning to gray skies and soggy ground. But by afternoon the sky looks bigger than I’ve ever seen it, a brilliant rain-washed blue with huge puffy clouds crowding each other all around.

This also means that the kids are home on a month-long break. Yesterday town was full of them, and when I went for a walk after work, it was clear that they were in a holiday mood. Let me explain: Children will ask any mzungu for anything that they think they can get: money, candy, pencils, biscuits, your watch, your phone, a bicycle, etc. The common belief is that all white people are rich and can afford to give them something. A lot of times with tourists this is true, but I am a volunteer, and it is very hard to make them believe that I am not rich. Therefore I get asked for a lot of stuff. The culturally sensitive answer (which I have given up on because it doesn’t work) is to respond that I don’t have any of what is being asked for, or maybe tomorrow. I usually just say no, which is perfectly acceptable in the US but all but unheard of in this culture. I say that’s what I’m here for: cultural exchange. This is a conversation I had on my walk:

Children: Mzungu! Mzungu!
Me: Sasa (very informal how are you)
Children: Give me a biscuit (cookie)!
Me: No
Old man walking his bicycle laughs
Old man: The children like to joke with you. They are just playing. (Clearly untrue--they really wanted me to give them cookies.)

Now repeat this exchange about 12 times, add some catcalls, about 20 “howareyous” with plenty of giggling whether I answer or not, and blatant staring from every person I pass, and you’ll get a normal day for me. If anything, I can say I’m working on patience. This is where I take a step back, think about this situation from their cultural perspective rather than mine, which puts a different spin on things. And makes me even more thankful to be an American.

Miss you all. Love me