Two Down

Term two is finished. Exams are completed and marked, classrooms are empty, and the school compound is even more quiet than usual. It feels strange to be finished with two terms of teaching, especially because I know how quickly the third term will come and go.

Since I wrote last, I have been continuing to work on developing teaching resources with the staff and the pupils. It’s been slow sometimes, and my unrealistic expectations become apparent all too frequently, but I’m not giving up. Lately I’ve been learning a lot about the power of example. I’ve known the phrase “actions speak louder than words” since I was young, but I have come to understand its meaning during these past few months more than any other time in my life.

When we first started the poster/resource development project, we had endless staff meetings where we would argue over the best way to divide the work and organize the project. We NEVER came to any consensus. Once I was fed up with the inefficiency, I started to make posters on my own. And then other teachers made posters. And still others made posters. Then there were collages made from old magazines. And pictures of animals with their names so the kids could improve spelling. Then one of the teachers enlisted the help of a couple of the best artists in the school to draw a sign language alphabet that wraps along the walls of one of the lower primary classes. I am blown away when I look back at all that was accomplished when teachers worked at their own pace, in their own way. Work is done differently here – in my professional experience at home, I’m used to having a plan when a project is started and gauging success by meeting or missing pre-determined benchmarks. But here, quiet leadership and self-directed ambition gets things done. The project has grown more slowly and in a different way than I expected, but it’s all the more beautiful for its natural development.

In mid-July, I had a chance to branch out from school-based projects (and teaching) by getting involved with community-based outreach (which is SUCH a cool part of the Deaf Education program in Peace Corps Kenya). I was invited by an NGO called St. Martin’s Catholic Social Apostolate to come and speak about Deafness in children. I may have mentioned St. Martin’s before in this blog, but let me introduce them more fully. I think they are an INCREDIBLE organization (their motto is “Only Through Community,” which is the first clue as to how great they are). Most of the people who work for St. Martin’s are Kenyans who volunteer their time, and almost everyone in the Nyahururu area knows about and/or is impacted by the work they do. They have outreach programs for people living with disabilities, people living with HIV/AIDS, survivors of domestic and sexual violence and vulnerable children who are orphaned or living on the street. The story of how they were founded is beautiful, and I can personally relate to it, since a good number of the kids at my school were locked or hidden away throughout much of their childhood, before someone advocated for them and took them to school. (To read the story of the founding of St. Martin’s, go here. I strongly encourage it!) Anyway, the staff who works with disabled children and their families travel into the villages in order to find children who aren’t receiving services that they need, and advise the parents accordingly. They told me that they know how to advise parents of children who are 6 years old and above, because a 6-year-old Deaf child can start school, but that they don’t know how to advise parents of young Deaf children. I jumped at the opportunity to speak with them, because (as anyone who has studied early childhood development knows) the first few years of a child’s life are incredibly important for language development. If a Deaf child is not acquiring any language in those first few years, they are set up for a very difficult experience in school. So we talked about what causes deafness, Deaf culture, KSL, language development, education opportunities, parental involvement, etc. It was a great experience, and I hope I’ll be able to conduct similar seminars in the future. I’d also love to set up some parental support groups, who can help each other learn KSL and just spend time together and advocate for their kids.

So, with teaching on top of all the other activities, it’s been a busy term. Sipili School for the Deaf has also recently been linked with a British school through a school partnership program run by STAR4Africa, so we’ve been working in implementing practices to make sure the partnership is successful. There’s a volunteer from the UK here for three months who is providing technical support for the program’s implementation, so there’s plural “wazungu” at the school until September, not just one “mzungu.” The school linking program focuses on global citizenship, and there is also an emphasis on children’s rights, which is great for the kids to learn.

Since the term is over, we have about five weeks off for a break. I’m currently in Kisumu with two girls from my school (and about 85 other girls from other schools), at a Peace Corps camp called Camp GLOW (Girls Leading Our World). It’s a female empowerment camp, and we attempt to address issues that are pertinent to the lives of girls (especially in Kenya where traditional gender roles predominate and cause real barriers for young women), but aren’t covered fully in school. Although “life skills” is technically part of the Kenyan curriculum, it’s not tested in the national examinations so it’s oftentimes overlooked. So GLOW has a lot of sessions about making goals, planning for the future, women’s health, reproduction, money management, human rights, domestic and sexual assault, future employment opportunities, etc. It’s been a lot of fun to plan and teach the sessions, and the girls have been so much fun to work with. Within the camp there is a section for hearing girls and another for Deaf girls, but during meals and free time it’s been amazing to watch them mingle with and learn from one another. They’ve all come out of their shells, and are able to participate with a lot of enthusiasm. This is the last day of camp, so we went to an impala sanctuary this afternoon where we saw animals and Lake Victoria, and had a “disco” to wrap it all up. Now it's past midnight, and all the volunteers are completely exhausted after a week of planning, teaching and directing girls. We’ll probably all find a way to sleep on our respective vehicles back to site tomorrow…

…unless we’re not going back to site! The Peace Corps Cross-Sector Workshops are happening in Mombasa this coming week, so a lot of us are taking a shuttle to Nairobi tomorrow, and then will travel onward to the coast on Sunday. I still haven't been on the Kenyan coast, so I'm excited to experience the laid-back attitude, observe the Muslim culture and watch the sunburned wazungu tourists try to bargain. And of course the training sessions will be interesting - they're funded by PEPFAR (President's Emergency Plan For AIDS Relief), and volunteers from all sectors (education, small business and public health) are eligible to attend. So I'll probably learn a lot AND get to know more PCVs from around the country. Two teachers from my school are also attending, and I'm really excited for them to get information about HIV prevention and community activism.

After my week in Mombasa, I'll travel back to Nairobi with a fellow PCV (who is also a very good friend), and we'll take the GRE together on the 18th. I don't really have a reason to take the GRE, except to keep my post-PC education/career options open. I've been thinking a lot about what I want to do after I finish my 2 years, and since I have seriously considered everything from getting an MFA in creative writing to getting an MD/MPH to working as a barista for the rest of my life, I think it's important to be prepared. (That third option wasn't considered for too long, but it was considered). Finally, after the GRE I'll spend a couple more days in Nairobi meeting with a Kenyan organization that wants to help our school, and then meet with some Peace Corps Staff to help plan the Pre-Service Training for the NEW education volunteers who are coming in October. I can hardly believe it's already time to plan the next PST, it feels like I was just landing in Kenya, just getting on the bus to Machakos, just meeting my host family. But instead it's almost time for a totally new group to experience all that. I'm excited I'll be able to provide input to help make their training as helpful as possible.

I know August will fly by as I fulfill all my commitments and live my "other life" in cities and on buses instead of in my little house in the village. But I know I'll be happy to get home once it's all settled. I already miss my students, and I'm starting to feel a little bit of separation anxiety, since I know my class 8 pupils will be leaving at the end of the next term.

But in the meantime, I'll try to take everything one day at a time and enjoy new towns, new faces and new experiences. I don't think that will be TOO hard.

A List

Although I wouldn't consider myself a strictly "Type A" personality (which is probably good, since, according to a college psych professor, Type A's have a high rate of heart disease), I am someone who loves to make lists. I like to organize my thoughts with bullets, and in the case of to-do lists, few things feel more satisfying than crossing items off. So, below is a list that I've been mentally compiling over the past eight months. It's a list of things that most Kenyans can do MUCH better than I can. It's not meant to be self-deprecating, as I remain confident in the abilities I possess. But I also get a lot of comments from people at home about how I'm "doing great things." I want to show another side of reality, where I'm learning FAR more than I'm teaching, and I'm assisted more than I could ever hope to help. And maybe the list will make you laugh.

Things That (Most) Kenyans Can Do Better Than Jenny

1. Walk Through Kilometers of Mud in Heels, and Arrive at Their Destination Completely Clean

When I started my job at school, I has some nice, professional-looking black flats that I would wear every day. That was the dry season, and I was able to maintain their luster with a simple daily rinse to remove the dust. It was the rough roads that eventually did them in (the soles were split completely in half within a month). So I got another pair of black flats, that met a similar fate. Pair number three were purchased right before the advent of the rainy season, which nicely softened the roads... into mud. After the rains came, I would leave my house with clean shoes, and arrive to school with my black shoes changed to red, covered in wet clay. But upon greeting the other female teachers at the beginning of the day, (who walk a similar distance to school as I), I found myself trying to hide my dirty shoes in shame. The other women were wearing strappy shoes with a good inch of heel, and they were immaculate. No mud anywhere. I assumed they'd changed into their work shoes after trudging to school in hiking boots or that they'd cleaned their heels before I was able to see. But in reality, the women at my workplace and ALL the women I have come across, are able to deftly maneuver the soggy roads without getting a speck of dirt on their footwear. I've seen them in action. And I still don't know the magic technique, so I still go everywhere with muddy shoes.

2. Get a Stain Out of a Shirt Using a Bucket, Water and a Bar of Soap

Even at home in the states, I have trouble getting stains out of my clothes. Even though the supermarkets are stocked with stain-removing detergents, sprays, soaks, sticks, rinses and more, it's a battle to get wine, dirt or other spot-causing substances out of fabric. At home, I even have the advantage of mechanized washing that continually cleans clothes for nearly an hour. When you're armed only with a bucket, water, glycerine soap and your own elbow grease to do the washing, removing a stain seems like an impossibility.

At the end of my first week in Kenya, I first faced the task of washing my clothes. And after traveling in dusty matatus, they were anything but clean. I even had a shirt with an ink stain that had persisted through dozens of machine washings back at home. Since I was such a novice to the whole hand-washing process, my host mama helped me wash. (Or, if you want to get technical, she did it all herself as I looked on awkwardly). When we got the stained shirt, I said "oh, don't worry about that stain. It's permanent." She looked at me, raised her eyebrows, smiled, and wordlessly returned her focus to my shirt. I was taken aback, but continued to watch as she applied bar soap liberally to the stain and used some magic wrist-work, wringing and scrubbing the cloth. After all the twisting, rubbing and a thorough rinse, the stain was gone. I was stunned. I don't know how much spray-and-wash I'd wasted on that stain, to no avail. And she got rid of it in minutes. Yet more proof that Kenyan women are magic.

3. Bend

All cleaning activities (washing dishes, clothes, sweeping, etc.) are performed while bending over the work, with a straight back and legs. Brooms and mops (towels, really) in Kenya don't have handles, and wash basins for clothes or dishes are placed on the ground. The first time I washed my clothes on my own, I squatted down next to the basin and began scrubbing. I didn't think about my position, I just found it natural and comfortable. My host mama came out and started laughing, saying "you wash like a little boy!" I was immediately self-conscious, and she instructed me to bend over my work like a lady. I obliged, and in a matter of minutes, my legs and back were completely stiff, and starting to wobble. She came outside again to see my progress, and noticed I was in pain, so she silently brought me a stool to set my washing on so I wouldn't have to bend. I was ashamed of my prop, but I knew I couldn't finish without it. As the weeks progressed, I attempted to rely on the stool less and less. I had to work on my flexibility just to complete chores successfully. That's something they don't tell you about in the Peace Corps brochures. But now, thanks to persistence, I can wash clothes, dishes, floors, or whatever needs washing while bending. Albeit, not with as much stamina or grace as Kenyan ladies. Seriously, these women are superhuman.

Side note: I realize that so far, these are largely gender specific. That could be because Kenyan women can do everything better than anyone, or because I don't have much experience here with traditional "men's" work. Such work includes anything to do with pangas (machetes), shovels, rakes, motors or wires. So honestly, they're probably better than me at all that too.

3. Sleep on a Matatu

I don't think I've fully described matatus yet. I know I've referenced them in multiple posts and you, dear reader, can probably grasp that they're no Lexus, but I think it's important to have a deeper understanding. If a minivan and one of those airport shuttle buses shacked up and had a little baby motorcar, it would grow up to be a matatu. But in the growing-up process, it would go through stages of rebellion that would include stripping itself of seatbelts, mirrors, radio knob and patches of upholstery. But, to its credit, it would never lose its spare wheel.

However, it's not the shell of the matatu that is so remarkable. It is the living, breathing interior. Matatus are designed to hold fourteen people, with two passengers in the front, and three in the next four rows. However, the most people I've seen in a matatu is more than twice that. Close to 30 PEOPLE. Well, technically everyone wasn't IN the matatu, but the matatu was carrying everyone. Standing on the running boards counts, in my opinion. And the passenger count isn't always limited to humans. Sometimes there are chickens, sometimes goats, and sometimes both. I'm just waiting for the day when my seatmate is a cow. Also, It's not uncommon to have people on your lap while traveling. Grown people.

Due to the "close quarters" (to use an extreme euphemism), it's tough to regulate the temperature in a matatu. It's not the sweetest-smelling atmosphere, either. So how someone can get comfortable enough to SLEEP on a matatu is beyond me. But it's possible. Just ask the lady who napped comfortably on my shoulder from Nyahururu to Sipili last weekend.

4. Predict Rain

This one is a doozy. I've always considered the predictions of a meteorologist to be about as dependable as those of a water diviner or a president of Family Radio (a rapture joke - too soon?). But since moving to Sipili, I've met people who are totally accurate when it comes to predicting rain. And to them, it seems to be less of a prediction, and more of a "well, can't you see the sky? It's obviously going to rain/not rain." Sometimes I get cocky and think that the cloudless sky won't betray my prediction, and I'll proudly announce to a nearby Kenyan "well, it looks like it's not going to rain today!" The last time I said that, we had a flash hail storm in the afternoon, followed by a downpour that nearly washed away the calf at our school. And when I say "maybe it will rain today!" because I heard thunder and see dark clouds, the usual response is a puzzled look and a polite "maybe." And sure enough, we stay dry as a bone. I remain completely baffled at this supernatural Kenyan prediction skill.

5. Dance

Let me clarify right up front: This skill is not limited to hearing Kenyans. My Deaf students can all dance better than I can, and they don't listen to music. It's pretty much guaranteed that any Kenyan I meet who can walk can also dance. And dance WELL. When PCVs go out dancing in Nairobi, we usually stick to foreigner hangouts, because otherwise we'd look like 80-year olds in terms of our range of motion and sense of rhythm compared to the locals.

6. Speak Languages

While I consider it a good day when I can successfully buy tomatoes at the market using my basic Kiswahili/Gikuyu skills (aided by excessive gesturing), most people in Kenya speak at least three languages fluently. They grow up speaking their "mother tounge" or tribal language, and then learn Kiswahili and English at school. Their parents may speak Kiswahili and/or English at home with them too, so it's not uncommon to meet trilingual toddlers. Considering the fact that some Kenyans learn tribal languages other than their own, and may study French or German in university, they're all leagues ahead of my repertoire of English, rudimentary KSL and Spanglish.

There are probably many other arenas where Kenyans have me beat, but these are the ones I experience most frequently. I can only hope that my two years here will help me gain some of the insights and abilities that are integral to Kenyan culture. Self-improvement may be a less noble goal next to, say, teaching my students to read, but I find myself just as eager to be changed by Kenya as I am to create change here.

Back to School

Is it mid-May already?! With all the excitement of April break and a problem with internet availability, I haven’t written in a very long time. But plenty of things have happened in the past month or so, so this promises to be an extra long entry with all kinds of updates.

To pick up where I left off, the conclusion to the “games” story is a disappointment. Many of you have heard the story, since I was pretty distraught when it happened, but I’ll give the abridged version to catch the rest of you up to speed. One day after my last post I was still in Nakuru, excitedly anticipating the students’ arrival. They were supposed to arrive sometime in the afternoon, but when 4 o’clock passed, I started to wonder where they were. Finally I got a text message from my headmaster saying they weren’t coming. I remained optimistic, hoping it meant they hadn’t left when they had planned, and would be coming a few hours or, at worst, a day late. But when I called him, those hopes were dashed. Apparently there was no money available for the bus, and the kids were waiting at school for a vehicle that was never coming. There wouldn’t be a chance for them to compete at all, and they all had to go home instead. I was heartbroken, as were the other teachers. We had all worked so hard with the kids to get them ready for competition in Nakuru, that a failure to even participate was a huge blow. It was a tough lesson for me, but it was important nonetheless. I felt like I should do something, cause a fuss and confront whoever was responsible for paying the fees, and try to “save the day.” But I had to remember I’m a teacher, not too high on the totem pole, and that kind of response would burn bridges (which is kind of the opposite of my goal here). So, I had to suck up my disappointment, and focus on cheering the kids up. I rushed back to Sipili, and although most of the kids had gone home for break, I tried to do something fun for the ones who remained.

Since games didn’t happen, I stayed in Sipili instead of going to Mombasa. I could have taken some vacation days and traveled to the coast, but I’m trying to save my vacation days for December, when my FAMILY VISITS! That’s right, the Wooley family is packing up and making the long journey to Kenya to stay for almost a month in December/early January, and I’m beyond excited. It’s still ages away, but the plane tickets were recently booked, so I reserve the right to start getting antsy. It will be a completely different experience to see Kenya from the “tourist” point of view, but I bet I’ll have a really good time. Considering the company, I think that’s a fair conclusion.

After about a week and a half at home in Sipili (which was pleasant and surprisingly productive), I left again. This time I was headed to In-Service Training (IST) in Nairobi with all the rest of the Education volunteers who arrived to Kenya in October with me. I decided to spend a few days in Machakos first, to visit my host family. It was really great to see them – my host brother had grown taller, my host sister was home from secondary school (she’d just finished her first term of form one, equivalent to freshman year in high school) and she’d gotten more mature, and my host Mama hadn’t changed a bit. It felt like I was “home” for break, too. The town was familiar, as was the house, my bed and the cooking. It was very comforting and it was great to catch up with the family. We went to my “grandma’s” house one of the days I was there, and she loaded me up with a bag full of fresh, ripe mangoes, so I was set for Nairobi. It was sad to say goodbye, but I promised I’d visit again as soon as possible.

A few other volunteers were in Machakos visiting their host families, so we all traveled to Nairobi together. It’s only about an hour away from Machakos, so it was an easy trip, but I was definitely awe-struck when I arrived in the city. The traffic is crazy, the air is polluted, and there are people everywhere. Luckily I know how to get from the matatu stage to the hotel where we had our training, but the layout of the city is confusing, and the whole place is sprawling. Coming from three months in the village, I was overwhelmed. Luckily I’d been to Nakuru and Machakos and had a chance to acclimate to city life a little bit, but it was an adjustment nonetheless. All the stress melted away when I saw my fellow volunteers. I hadn’t seen many of them since our swearing-in ceremony in December, so it was so awesome to catch up with all of them. We had all kinds of experiences at our sites that we were anxious to share, and we learned a lot from one another over the course of the two weeks. We also learned a thing or two from the training sessions, but it’s no secret that the most beneficial aspect of the trainings is the opportunity to catch up with fellow volunteers. That being said, we did have one notable session at International School of Kenya (ISK), which follows a North American curriculum... and has an IB program! I got to observe an HL English class (hands down my favorite class I took in high school), which made me strangely nostalgic for West High. Aside from providing a trip down memory lane, the experience helped inspire me to try and emulate past teachers I've had. I also met a teacher who was originally from Juneau, and the school gave us volunteers a bunch of old resources. I picked up some kids' books: "The Little Red Hen," "The Gingerbread Man," "Blueberries for Sal," and "The Velveteen Rabbit." Seeing those old books was like seeing old friends, and it's awesome to watch my pupils read them and marvel at the illustrations. Man, do they love books. Needless to say, I gained a lot from our ISK visit.

Another exciting outcome of IST was the establishment of a new committee within our Deaf Education Sector of Peace Corps Kenya. It’s largely focused on advocating for the needs of the Deaf community (especially Deaf children) in Kenya, and will do so by working with existing groups (public and private) to come up with goals and objectives for enhancing Deaf education/KSL. We have lofty goals, but that’s part of the excitement. Getting involved in a committee like this makes me feel like I’m really a volunteer, not a beginner on the periphery. Although, to be honest, I still am a beginner. Until I know Kiswahili and Gikuyu, I’ll feel like a total novice. I can understand a bit of Kiswahili, but don’t have much luck speaking it yet (except for the basics). And my Gikuyu is even more limited – I can say a few greetings, a few nouns, “come,” “go,” “I’m going to school” and “I’m going home.” Past that, I’m lost. But I’m working at it. Let me just say, learning three languages (KSL, Kiswahili, Gikuyu) at the same time is a challenge.

Despite all the ups and downs, the highlight of the past month was my run-in with Kenyan wildlife. Within the first couple months of arriving in Kenya, I’d seen most of the animals I’d expected to see along the road – zebra, giraffes, camels, buffalo, gazelles, warthogs, ostrich, baboons, etc. But I hadn’t seen an elephant. Laikipia has a lot of elephants, so my neighbors and coworkers were surprised that I hadn’t seen them yet. Even Jessica saw one last term, so I’d been getting impatient. Finally, I was lucky – I saw four elephants in one day! I went with the teachers last weekend to Nanyuki for their teachers’ union elections, and the route we took went through the back-country. I’d been through Nanyuki before (on my way to Meru for New Year celebrations), but that time I was on paved roads, which was much less direct and took a long time. Anyway, on the way to Nanyuki, we saw the first elephant, just munching away on the side of the road. When we passed in the matatu, it slowly sauntered further back into the brush, but not before I had a good chance to look at it. It was huge! I had only seen elephants in a zoo before, and there was something peaceful and soothing about seeing it in the wild. Then, after a long day of excitement in Nanyuki surrounding the elections (and a lot of introductions to other teachers from all around Laikipia), we saw three more elephants on the way home! This time it was a momma with two babies. The baby elephants were adorable. Of course I didn’t have a camera, but that’s alright. If you Google “African elephant,” you’ll have a pretty good idea of what I saw.

Other than that, life back in Sipili has been normal. Readjusting to village life after Nairobi took some effort, but it’s not so bad when there’s a goal in mind. This term I’m really focusing on developing the resources at school. We have great teachers and great kids, but we’re desperately lacking visual aids. I’m working with the other teachers on making posters that we can laminate and reuse. Since there’s no lamination in town, any posters we make are destroyed by the end of the term. Something as simple as going into Nyahururu, Nakuru or even Nairobi and laminating posters will greatly enhance our available resources, and if the kids help us make them, they’ll be more inclined to respect them and keep them in good condition. We also have some local donors who want to help us add resources, so hopefully we can get a science kit, arts and craft supplies, etc. My long-term plan is to turn this all into a resource room, where we keep the classroom resources together with picture books, games, computers (REALLY eventual), interactive DVDs and other visual resources that can enhance learning for Deaf kids. But, baby steps are required. First step, posters.

Thank you to everyone who continues to send letters and stay in touch. I've now passed the seven-month mark here in Kenya, and while I feel more at home here, I feel far away from my American home. I miss all my American friends and family dearly, and I think of you all constantly. Please never hesitate to write, call, or send an electronic message. Just hearing a “hello” and a bit of news from home inevitably makes my week. I also want to congratulate the class of 2011! I can’t believe it’s been a year since my own graduation – gosh I’m getting old. I hope everyone has a beautiful beginning to their summer, and I’ll write another update soon. Kwaheri!

School's Out!

School is over, break has begun, and I haven't felt this relaxed in months.

But since I haven't written in a while, I'll give some updates before talking about break. Most notably, the rains came! They started one afternoon shortly after my last post, and didn't let up for a few days. It was incredible how the environment of the whole town switched from drought to flood in a matter of days. The rain sparked a flurry of planting in all the shambas in Sipili, and drew a sigh of relief from most of the families in town. There have been a few showers since the initial thunderstorms, but we're hoping there will be some more heavy rains again this season. Another byproduct of the first rain is the emergence of flying termites. I didn't pay them much attention when I saw them flying around the first morning after the rains came, but when I got to school I DID notice my students running and jumping in the air to catch the termites. At first I thought they were playing like kids do, and then I saw them EAT the termites. I was surprised and asked the kids about it, and they just grinned and assured me the bugs are "VERY sweet!" Even some of the teachers were surprised I didn't want to try some freshly-caught termites, but others understood why I was wary. They insisted they were MUCH better lightly fried.

Last weekend, I took a trip up North to see some other volunteers in Maralal (a small town in Samburu, home to the tribe of the same name). I really fell in love with the place. Although the town is about 100 km from Sipili, it takes about 3 hours to get there since the road is unpaved. I was happy to meander slowly, since the grasslands we traveled through were full of zebra, gazelles, camels and a few giraffe. In fact, we came across one particularly stubborn giraffe standing in the middle of the road who reluctantly allowed us to pass only after we yelled, honked and otherwise expressed our desire for it to move for a few minutes. I couldn't help comparing it to the moose in Alaska - it gave us passengers the same unamused look that moose give as it lumbered off the road.

Arriving in Maralal reminded me of what I had expected to find when I first landed in Kenya. The first things I saw were groups of Samburu people, and I found myself staring, transfixed. The Samburu tribe is one of the tribes in Kenya that has maintained a large degree of its traditional culture, which is immediately obvious in their appearance. Their dress is characterized by bright colors, elaborate beadwork, ear piercings (I've been asked if I'm Samburu because of my multiple piercings), and the unique ochre-dyed braids of the murran (warriors). They are quite stunning. The Samburu are nomadic pastoralists, so it's common to see a Samburu man wrapped only in a shukka (cloth around his waist), holding a staff and walking with his large herd of goats or cows. It's an interesting contrast to the Kikuyu people in my region, who rely heavily on agriculture, and who have completely embraced a more "Western" way of life. The Samburu have even managed to retain a large amount of their traditional religion, although there is a strong Christian contingency in Maralal specifically. Seeing the other volunteers was great, too. We were able to share stories from our sites, and work on ideas for our secondary projects. It only made me more excited to see ALL the volunteers in Nairobi in mid-April!

After returning to Sipili, I worked hard on marking exams and filling out report cards, while preparing my house for an extended absence. Exams were frustrating, but I was SO proud of my class 8 English class. We've been working tirelessly all term to translate signed KSL into written English, including all the grammatical nuances that are integral to English and irrelevant to KSL. All our work paid off when I saw their English compositions. Although they were admittedly full of errors, there were a few COMPLETE SENTENCES in the compositions! It was really encouraging, and I told the kids they should be REALLY proud of themselves, because I was certainly proud of them. It was a highlight in the middle of the largely irrelevant testing.

After a seemingly eternal week of exams, practicing for games and cleaning the classrooms, we closed the school on Friday, and the kids who aren't coming to Nakuru were picked up by their parents/guardians. However, there are a few kids who are staying at the school for the rest of break because their parents can't (or won't) travel to Sipili to pick them up. It's always a strong dose of reality when I encounter those kinds of things. All my life I've not only been lucky to HAVE parents, but I've had parents who support me and welcome me into their home whenever I want or need, no matter how old I am. Some of the kids who will stay alone at school are younger than I was the first time I stayed away from my parents for more than one night. It's not about placing blame - the parents do what they can. But it does put my "troubles" in perspective.

Friday afternoon, I left with Jessica for Nakuru. It used to be known as "the cleanest town in East Africa," and although that superlative no longer holds, it is certainly more organized and charming than other cities I've visited. Over the past couple of days, Jessica and I have re-acquainted ourselves with many of the amenities we've become accustomed to living without in Sipili. When we checked into our hotel room, we gazed lovingly at the switch on the wall that controls the hot water heater for the shower, and immediately plugged in all our chargeable gadgets to the electrical outlet. We went out for COLD drinks and American food, and wasted a couple of hours on high-speed internet. We even spotted a laundromat in town. It's fun to be surrounded by some of the comforts of home, but even after just a couple of days I feel as though my craving for familiarity has been sated. Who knows, maybe by the end of this break I'll start missing doing all my chores (including washing clothes and bathing) with a bucket.

The kids will arrive sometime tomorrow to start games. I'm already missing them, so it will be great to see their smiling faces, especially in this context. As much as I enjoy teaching, it's a lot of fun to just spend time with them informally and get to know their personalities better. They've been looking forward to this for such a long time, so I know they'll have a blast no matter how they do in games. But of course I hope they do well so we can all go to Mombasa in a week!

Travel to Mombasa and Nairobi is exciting for one particular reason: access to wi-fi. I'll hopefully be able to access Skype, so let me know if you'd like to video chat sometime in mid-late April! I can't imagine how incredible it will be to see faces that I haven't seen in six months.

Games and More

When it comes to impatience for the term to end, there’s not a lot of difference between school in the US and school in Kenya. My school will close on April 1^st for a little over a month, and the teachers (myself included) and all the students are getting really anxious for these next three weeks to fly by – mostly because Provincial Games start right after closing! Provincial Games will be held at a primary school for the Deaf in Nakuru (about one hour southwest of Nyahururu) and will host all the special schools in the Province. Each special school will compete within its category (e.g. Deaf students compete against one another, Blind students compete against one another, etc.) and the students who do the best in their category will proceed to National Games in Mombasa.

Last Friday we had school-wide time trials for the running races. We had already selected the volleyball teams (boys and girls), football team (boys) and netball team (girls), but we hadn’t chosen students for the track events. We don’t have a discus, javelin, shotput, long jump or high jump at our school, so I’m still a little unclear about how we’ll select students for those events (maybe no one will enter). But we do have a rudimentary track (an oval-shaped trail through an overgrown field) which we used for the running time trials. I was pretty impressed with these kids – they don’t have running shoes (or any shoes at all, in a lot of cases), they don’t have clothes other than their uniforms (imagine running a track race in a skirt and petticoats) or water bottles (instead of water, Kenyans give kids powdered glucose after running a race), but most of them were incredibly fast. It was a lot of fun to watch the kids really excel at something, especially the ones who have a difficult time in class. Once the time trials were finished, we determined who would travel to Nakuru as a team. Unfortunately, we only have the budget to bring 35 students, so about 25 kids will be left behind. The littlest ones in class one were oblivious to the purpose of the races, so they weren’t disappointed about being left. But there were a few older students who have never qualified and really want to go to Nakuru, so there were some tears. Seeing the kids so upset about not being able to travel to a town just an hour away made me really wish that we could bring everyone on the trip, but I also found myself feeling grateful for the travel opportunities I've been lucky enough to have over the years. Hopefully there will be another chance for them to go somewhere different – maybe to Kakamega for the drama and dance competitions later in the year.

I’ll be one of two teachers to chaperone the week-long trip to Nakuru, and maybe continue on to Mombasa if any of the kids qualify. I’m very excited about Nakuru – it’s the fourth largest city in Kenya (after big three: Nairobi, Mombasa and Kisumu), which hopefully means I can find supermarkets, fun restaurants and maybe some dancing. But even if I don’t find those in Nakuru, they will certainly be waiting for me in Nairobi in mid-April.

Aside from these upcoming events, there isn’t a lot that has changed at my site. The rains still haven’t come, which isn’t great news for the crops, but we’re still hopeful that they’ll come before March ends. Also, today marks five months in Kenya, which is exciting, but I’m losing bits of my American-ness every day. For example, I was talking with a friend from college on the phone last Friday, and she mentioned looking up churches on Yelp.com. I found myself wondering, "what the heck is Yelp?” After I sat and thought for a good five seconds, I finally remembered Yelp (a website that provides reviews of businesses in searchable regions that I used on a weekly, if not daily, basis at home). Once I knew what she was talking about, I couldn’t believe I had completely forgotten about a website that I used so frequently at home. I guess there’s not a real need for it in Sipili, where there’s one hotel, one supermarket and all the other little shops are virtually identical. I also find myself feeling completely shocked when I see someone scantily clad on TV. Music videos or advertisements that were run-of-the-mill back at home seem completely scandalous here. I think I’m becoming re-sensitized to the insane images that we see all the time on TV in the US, which will prove interesting when I get back home. I don’t know how I’ll deal with a supermarket full of choices, running water whenever I want it, or any other amenity that I’ve been living without since arriving in Kenya. After living here for enough time, America seems, in retrospect, like an oversized theme park. It’s a place with comparatively little disease, it's clean and tidy, full of entertainment and interesting gadgets that make daily living nearly effortless. I actually find myself having a hard time believing I lived there less than six months ago. This will all make for a very interesting re-entry in roughly 21 months, but luckily there's quite a bit of time before I have to worry about that. For now, I’m more than happy with my new home, here in Kenya.

Making Plans

I have added a new member to my family!!

(No, I haven't eloped with a Kenyan. Not yet, anyway.)

It all started on a Monday, on Valentine's Day. I had stopped by the little roadside duka to buy some small candies for my fellow teachers in order to share a little bit of an American holiday tradition, and arrived to school early. My week as the teacher on duty was just starting, so I helped the kids with their morning chores and attempted to explain Valentine's Day to my students (I think they mostly just caught "love day" and were underwhelmed, even when I told them they were ALL my Valentines, and the best Valentines I could hope for... some things are just lost in language/culture translation). After my first block of classes, I returned to the staff room where most of the other teachers were assembled. They thanked me for the sweets, and we talked briefly about the differences between Kenyan/American Valentine's Day (I'll give you a hint - Americans tend to take it way too far, spend too much money, and Kenyan's don't understand why. That seems to be a common theme in the difference between Kenyan/American anything) until the head teacher came into the room and requested my presence in his office. I was confused when he pulled an empty potato sack out from under his desk, even more confused when I realized there was something small inside, and downright baffled when the small object in the bag moved. Most of my experiences in Kenya with living creatures given as gifts have been confined to chickens in the collection plate at church, which made me nervous. I have no idea how to take care of a chicken, and don't really want one. But when I looked inside the bag, I was thrilled - there was a tiny grey and black striped kitten sitting at the bottom, looking up at me. I saved him from his burlap confinement immediately, and we've been best of friends ever since. (Note: I know I have previously referred to my kitten as a girl, but some... evidence has proven that she is, in fact, a he). He still doesn't know that fingers are not for biting, but that's one of the last lessons that kittens learn, so we're working on that one slowly. I'm otherwise pleased with his company and antics.

Of course this can't be an entirely pleasant blog post. Another event that really knocked me off my feet (but not in an I-just-got-an-adorable-kitten kind of way) was a recent bout of giardia. I had been so careful with my water treatment and general cleanliness that I thought I had nothing to worry about. But parasites have a way of finding you despite your best efforts, so I was stuck dealing with the first real episode of serious sickness since I've been here. Luckily the medication worked quickly, and the family on my compound helped me out a lot. They gave me fresh pineapple when I regained my appetite, and even offered to wash all my clothes. I didn't let them do that, but still. They were total life savers. Now I'm healthy, I've doused my house in bleach and replaced all my drinking water containers (I am my father's daughter, after all) and hope to stay healthy because of it.

Teaching continues to make me incredibly happy and drive me totally crazy. I'm brainstorming ideas for helping improve the situation at our school to make it more learner-centered and nurturing, (and, by selfish extension, a little easier on the teachers) but we're really starting from scratch. So far I've thought of

• Readjusting the classes (and the students therein) to actually reflect the level of learning that's appropriate in each case. We currently place students in a class based on age rather than ability, so the older man who can't write his name is in class eight while the boy-genius who works on long division and spells names of Kenyan cities for fun is in class five.
  
• Expanding the garden to include more nutritious options to supplement the githeri/ugali/porridge diet that the students get (and actually serve the produce to the STUDENTS instead of the teachers), maybe including a small nursery for baby fruit trees that we can keep for the community (thanks for the nursery idea, Tim!)
• Building a resource room/library that can house books, posters, games and other educational resources that the students don't have now. Also, making the posters, getting donated kids' books and games, etc.
  
• Starting a girls' group to promote health, self-esteem and friendship between the girls (we're having a bit of a problem with the ladies and the way they interact with one another).

There are other ideas, but these are the most pressing, and most feasible. I can start the girls' group this term, but the others will take some planning. I hope to get the other teachers on board, provided they agree with my analysis!

Other than those updates, there isn't a lot that has changed. I'm already getting excited for In-Service Training in Nairobi at the end of this first term. I'm becoming more and more used to living in a village, and have become a bit out of touch with modern conveniences. This is a good thing for the most part (it's nice to not miss running water when it's not an option), but when Nyahururu looks like a bustling metropolis to me (and I can vividly remember, upon first sight, considering it a very small town), I think it's time to reacquaint myself with a real city. And of course I'll have a chance to see the other Volunteers and "be American" for a little while. I like becoming Kenyan, but there's something rehabilitative about being myself for some time.

In the meantime, if you city slickers think your life is a little boring and could be spiced up by taking on a bit of a challenge, I have one for you! The 50-year anniversary of John F. Kennedy's creation of the Peace Corps is coming up in March, and Peace Corps is doing all kinds of things to raise awareness not only of the anniversary but of the organization as a whole. One of the events is a challenge to US citizens living in the states to "Live like a PCV." You can choose a country from the available participants (Kenya is one of them!) and there are guidelines (of varying difficulty) that you follow to simulate life as a PCV for a week in the country you've selected. If you're considering service as a PCV, it's a great taste of life in-country. Or if it just sounds like fun, check out the rules, photos and other information here.

I'd also like to extend an invitation for anyone following this blog to post a comment with a request for what they'd like to read about. Since I've been here for a while, I have a hard time determining what is exciting, or what people may be left wondering at the end of each post. I will post a summary of daily life (with pictures!) once I reach Nairobi and have picture-uploading ability, and of course I will keep everyone updated on what happens in my school/life (those two things are slowly becoming the SAME thing). But, any specific requests are encouraged!

Lessons Learned

I can hardly believe it, but it has been four months since I first landed in Kenya. That’s exactly seventeen weeks, 1/3 of a year, and 2/13 of my service (but who’s counting?). As I mentioned in a previous post about my perception of the passage of time, I can’t determine whether it feels like it’s been far longer than four months or much, much shorter. But I can breathe a little easier now that a sizeable amount of time has passed, now that I have some experience under my belt. I find myself speaking in a friendly Kenyan accent even when I’m talking to Americans, and the amount of livestock and poultry wandering through town doesn’t faze me anymore. I’m feeling more settled every day.

Since the last post, there have been a few notable events, and the MOST notable was Ian’s visit. For those of you who don’t have the pleasure of knowing Ian, he’s one of my best friends from Alaska who has been in Kenya since late December, volunteering at an orphanage on Rusinga, an island on Lake Victoria. There are no words to express how awesome it was to see a familiar face in a sea of strangers as he got off the matatu. Plus, he had brought news from and about loved ones, gifts from home, and bear hugs. It was one of the best moments in Kenya thus far.

Ian and I spent the weekend in Nyahururu catching up with each other, talking about Kenya and about America, and seeing the sights in town. And by “sights” I really just mean the singular sight, Thompson Falls. The falls are lovely, and it’s not difficult to get to the base. There is a fancy tourist lodge right next to the falls, but it was out of our price range so we stayed in one of the smaller “hotels” in town. There were no frills and the time was short, but it was fun to be in a bigger town, away from work. After mass on Sunday (there was an English service! Mass in Sipili is only in Kikuyu) Ian and I took a matatu back to Sipili so he could meet the kids at school. The kids loved him, and liked that his name is short and easy to finger spell. They even gave him a sign name – you bring your thumb and other four fingers together like you’re grabbing the brim of a baseball cap next to your forehead (meant to represent his hair, which is different from hairstyles they’re used to seeing). Even though he left about a week ago, the kids still come up to me, sign his sign name and then sign “where?” I think they miss his company and Frisbee skills.

Ian also helped Jessica and I with our weekly “guidance and counseling” session at the secondary school (it’s always a little weird for me to go there and teach kids who can hear). We tell the students to pretend like we’re not teachers, just for the hour, and to ask us anything they want to ask. Usually it’s related to life skills (drugs, alcohol, STDs, etc.) but sometimes we get really great questions about America (and requests for our phone numbers), or get a chance to dispel a particularly ridiculous misconception about HIV/AIDS. It’s a fun weekly event. Despite its simplicity (or maybe because of it) I think it helps the students.

Once Ian departed to continue his adventures (including a Kilimanjaro climb!), it was back to the normal routine. During the weekend, I visited the school that the kids on the compound attend and met their teachers. Here in Kenya, most kids go to school on Saturdays – it makes me appreciate the fact that I’ve always had free weekends. Then on Sunday I went to church with the grandfather of the family I’m staying with. He lives less than a kilometer down the road from our compound, so he left his house a bit early and picked me up on his bicycle at around 9:30 AM. I figured we’d be at church for a few hours, three at the most. I told the older girl on the compound that I’d be home in the early afternoon to do some washing, and we made plans to wash clothes at the same time and keep each other company. But now as I look back, I should have remembered the one truth that has been reinforced over and over throughout my Kenyan experiences: an invitation is never as simple as it sounds. Lunch is never just lunch, a meeting is never just a meeting, so why should I expect church to be just church? When we arrived, I found out that it was "pastors’ day," so the church had about six visiting pastors, all of whom made speeches throughout the course of the service. The pastor gave me a chance to deliver a speech as well (probably because I stuck out like a sore thumb and was most obviously a visitor), so I said a few words about my job, etc. During the main service, there was a bible study, the usual preaching that I had expected, and of course singing and dancing (including a bunch of elderly Kikuyu mamas doing the electric slide – a great sight to see). Once that was all over I thought we were finished, but it turned out to be a special fundraising day where a representative from each family in the congregation (no less than 100 people) came up one by one and announced their contribution. Finally we finished, and we were served lunch. We ended up leaving the church around 3:30 PM. I had to laugh to myself a little for vastly underestimating the time commitment I had inadvertently made, but I just filed it away as a lesson learned. I think from now on I’ll stick to the Catholic church – even in Kenya we’re usually in and out in under 2 hours.

The other recent excitement was our site visit by Peace Corps staff. During the first term of teaching, they make a point to visit all the volunteers at our sites and make sure we’re doing well. Since they drove to us from Nairobi, they were able to bring all kinds of fun things (American candy, fruits, and mail that had come to the Nairobi training address after we were posted at site) It was nice to see the staff, and even nicer to finally get my Christmas package from home! It actually looked like Christmas morning in my house after I opened the package – there was wrapping paper everywhere, and the PC Medical staff who came had brought oranges, which are always in my stocking. It was definitely a great mental health day.

Aside from all the excitement in the past couple of weeks, teaching is still going pretty well. I can see a bit of improvement in some of the kids (especially in class 8 English), but there are still challenges. I’m learning how to cope with the frustrations I have with how the school is run, and I’m trying to focus on being grateful for the things the other teachers do to help me out. There’s one teacher who sympathizes with my frustrations (and who can tell when I’m reaching the end of my rope) and reminds me that any meaningful changes will take time. Another teacher always invites me to her house for tea and a homemade meal. Those small moments of compassion and concern that they show me are good reminders that it’s not fair to fly in from America and dwell on the things in the school that don’t work. At least there IS a school. At least the kids have a bed, food, clothes and teachers. Everything else is variable, but even those basics weren’t available to them ten years ago. I’m not getting complacent and of course I want to encourage positive change, but at least I’m not so overwhelmed.

Oh, and I do have a fun anecdote. The other day, I was eating my usual githeri for lunch at school (githeri is the staple Kikuyu dish, essentially a mixture of maize and beans), and I noticed something I hadn’t noticed before. I’d always assumed that the dark specks in my githeri were pieces of burnt beans or some other byproduct of cooking, but upon closer examination I realized that they were, in fact, bugs. I have eaten githeri almost every day for lunch since the term began, so I have no idea how many bugs I’ve accidentally eaten since then. I mentioned my discovery to the students, and they just thought it was funny that it bothered me. According to one of the boys, the bugs just make you stronger. More protein, I guess. Life in Kenya is full of surprises – I think I’ll only continue to discover metaphorical bugs in the metaphorical githeri of my experience. And I think that they will, in fact, make me stronger.