Gettin' into the swing of things

If you're one of the lucky few who got to talk to me 3 weeks ago (or, rather, if you got to listen to me sob), you wouldn't recognize me today.

It's so easy to be miserable-- for things to be dull or far or difficult or different than you expected. I was so overwhelmed when I first arrived that I could barely think straight—haha I read back to some of my blog posts and am embarrassed at how mopey and emotional they are!! I don't know what it was about Africa that was so horrible at first. I'm asked, “What exactly was wrong?” and ya know, nothing really. I was just horribly homesick, unimpressed with my teaching, and feeling really stupid.
A month later, though, staying in Africa was definitely the right choice. I'm teaching, studying, reading, cooking, but most of all, learning.

While teaching admittedly isn't the most needed service I can give to Kenya, it is fun as hell!!! I don't plan on doing it for more than another month or so, but I'm going to ENJOY it while it lasts! I mean c'mon—what's more fun than playing with a hundred kids all day?! I've begun making friends with the other teachers (whom I realize I had seriously neglected), eating lunch at school, and having students over to the house after class for a glass of water, a game of cards (usually War), and some music listening. I like to think that I'm balancing “Madam Jennifer” and “Jen” well.

While class can sometimes get out of hands (I apologize to every teacher in my life whose class I talked during), my students have learned that I like fun.......but there's a clear line. When a problem arises in classes with other teachers, the answer is simple: the teacher takes a stick and smacks the student's hand, arm, leg, or back. And I would love to be able to do that—it makes discipline really easy. But there's simply no way I could ever do that without busting into tears and apologizing! Use words first...that's my motto! So, school's going well and is way more fun than before!

Also, another little story that I forgot to mention from my last post was some random man's attempt at stealing my ipod. I was sitting in the matatu on the way to Nakuru (where the IDP camp is) with the window open about 1 foot next to me. We were driving through town and had slowed for traffic when for some reason I felt like I should grip onto my ipod in my lap...then 5 seconds later a hand slipped in the window, hit me in the face, fiercely tried to yank it from my grasp, and then ran away. Things like that happen in books where people warn you about “Nairobbery” and I'd become waaay too comfortable in town, forgetting that I'm in a huge city. It was by chance/luck/whatever that I was holding on to the ipod so tightly...it shook me up, but the day could've been a lot worse. Everything is an experience—and I'm glad to have had that one.

Speaking more about the IDP (Internally Displaced People) Camp, I have never felt so needed or wanted at one place. Within 1 minute of entering the camp, I was holding a sleeping baby and being kissed on the cheeks by a line of women elders. I gave them my best Swahili which they entertained by responding in Swahili....even though I lost them after “How are you? I'm fine.”

The story behind the camp is mind numbing. In the last presidential election in February of 2008, the President elected was from the Kikuyu tribe. (In Africa, everyone knows what tribe he comes from) All the non-Kikyuys in Kenya were convinced that the Kikuyus cheated. So, all of the other tribes basically ganged up on the Kikuyu, thus beginning one of the bloodiest wars in Kenyan history. For months after the election, Kikuyu markets were burned, houses razed, and people mugged and murdered. And, of course, without markets nobody could get food! People from all tribes starved.
After the election, violent Massai, Luo, Kamba, etc. planned a raid on a Kikuyu village, but the villagers were able to escape just before the attack. All the villagers piled in 3 sixteen wheelers and made a new “temporary” home in a valley miles away from their village. 2 years later, that village is the IDP camp that I visited and where I hope to work in around a couple months.

The camp itself is enormous, hot, dirty, and brown—but it is not sad. The people there were some of the happiest, most life-loving group I've ever met. And they so appreciated my being there! I can't wait to work there...and like I said before, it's up to the volunteers to talk to the people and figure out what they need. If I'm able to work there, I'd like to continue Julie's hygiene courses, teach women how to weave mats from straw to use as “carpets” in their tents, and I'd like to do a Spring Cleaning of the entire camp. The tents smell and are infested with bugs—no kids can be healthy in those conditions. I've written letters to various companies asking for donations of soap, toothbrushes, bug spray, trash cans, etc. I'll be ecstatic if I get 1 response, though.

So, that's on the agenda hopefully sometime soon. I feel so strongly drawn to it.

Another observation I've made about Kenya was inspired by the Bob Marley tribute concert. Shamari and I were walking in, showing our hand stamps to the security, and I walked in easily but he was stopped by a guard and briefly interrogated. He walked outside once, and it happened again when he was trying to come back in, and it happened several times downtown the weekend before.

The only way I could think to describe his situation is that because of my light skin, I'm obviously a tourist and people here want me to have a good impression of their country. Because he's black, Shamari blends in with the Africans here who don't get special treatment. That seems so backwards though: locals being shoved around and pushed aside. Also, I imagine it would create self-loathing like “God, why do I have to be African? Why can't I be a European?”

That's something I've noticed in talking to my co-teachers at school, too. I usually spend my afternoons talking with Jared and Maurice, both of whom are looking for “a nice mzungu lady.” Being with an African lady would be Jared's “last option” and Maurice “isn't looking for African ladies.” Tuesday, Jared and I were talking about “the 1 thing you would change about the world if you could” and I said that I'd have Pangaea come back so that people could visit other countries more easily. He said that he'd have everyone have the same color skin.....white. I was with him for the same color skin part! but then....white? So I said, what about all black? Or green or blue or purple? He said those would be fine, too, but white skin is the nicest. I really think his mindset is a product of great treatment towards whites and hostile treatment towards Africans. He's said several times that he wishes he were white...I thought that prejudice about race wouldn't exist in Africa where basically everyone looks the same. But nah, it exists just as much as it does in the States.

Another observation I've made, which I expected, is that everyone (kids and adults alike) all associate money with light skin. Children begging for money single me out in a crowd...but I tell them “no, really, I don't have any money to give you! i'm sorry!” They're just programmed that way. White = rich, when in fact, when I was walking around downtown the other day, I saw local ladies with Coach purses, designer jeans, their hair all done up fancy, painted nails—looking MUCH nicer than I was!

But then on the reverse, I guess I came here with a certain mindset, too. I figured that because I'm going to Africa that everyone would live in grass huts, earlobes stretched out with long sticks through their noses. Definitely not. Nairobi is a city just like ANY American city!! Sure, those grass huts exist but they're way out in the country sides. And if those people had a choice, they'd move to the city! There's a big hype about African tribes, tribal jewelry, weapons, etc. but those people don't want to live like that—it's just how it is for them and they make the most of it.

Anyway, this week is almost over—Tuesday we leave for the Safari!!!! Sarah, I'm gonna record the sunrise on Mount Kenya (how awesome is that!!) and I'll take about a million pictures (I'm buying another memory card...THATS how many!!) Tomorrow I think I'm gonna get a haircut at a local salon next door (the lady said she's never cut mzungu hair before so we'll see how that goes!!) and I found this really amazing CD/DVD stand down the street. Let's just say, I own Avatar on DVD. That's wussup.
This weekend, I'm going to a local music festival with Jared and Maurice and going out to lunch with a new friend, James, from the Bob Marley concert. It's so nice to have local friends! And I've also become pretty handy in the kitchen with local food—I'm in charge of dinners this week 'cause Lucy's working late—and cooking is fun! The microwave isn't the answer to everything!

I've also begun bringing my laptop to the cyber cafe which is really convenient and now I can get on Skype! Talk to you all soon, I think about home every day-- love and miss you!

PS – Jenay, congrats on your speech!!!!!
PPS -- pictures are coming tomorrow when I can spend time at Nakumatt (basically Kenya's Walmart) using its free internet!