Friday, August 12, 2011
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
The last week
Due to some computer complications, we're finally typing this up at home. Our last week in Kenya was one of the most memorable and also the most difficult. On Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday we spent everyday entirely with the girls. We had bought some beads in Nairobi with Lucy and on Monday she came to the Rescue Center and taught the girls how to make bracelets and necklaces. Two of the girls,Jane and Maria, who are Masai, already knew how to make amazing jewelery. Even though the other girls weren't expert beaders like Jane and Maria, they still really enjoyed beading and were excited to have their own jewelery for the first time since they'd been at the center.
Thursday was our last day in Machakos and also school closing day for the term. That morning, we both woke up at 5:00 AM to go to the bathroom. Earlier that week, we had learned the reason for the daily morning stampede past our room. Every morning the cook heats water for the girls to use to bathe, but only enough for about 8 girls. So every morning, once the house mother opens the gate, all the girls race eachother to the kitchen for the hot water. As we walked downstairs,we heard the sound of dozens of girls running towards us and suddenly we saw one girl zoom past us,closely followed by ten more girls. We excitedly cheered them all on, trying to identify who was in the top eight. It was a great start to our last day with the girls.
On closing day, a special meal is prepared, complete with chapati,ndazi,stew and rice. The older girls spent all morning in the kitchen cutting vegetables, rolling chapati dough and deep frying ndazi. With the only other girls in the kitchen who werent cooking, Felista(4 years old) and nDunge(5), we watched Betty and Vivian fry chapati and Lucy and Wendy cut up huge slabs of beef. The school closing ceremony was held at 1:00. The teachers, counselors and visitors sat at a long table atoo the stage looking down at the girls seated facing the stage. It felt strange sitting above them, as if we were their authorities, when we felt more like their friends. During the ceremony, the teachers called up each class and ranked every girl, giving each a prize( a wash-cloth and a pen). They even ranked the nursery and the special-ed class. We were so proud to see that all of our closest friends were called as the 1st and 2nd in their class. Looking down and seeing all of their faces and knowing it was the last day we would see them made us very emotional. None of the girls had ever seen us cry and it made them very upset and emotional themselves. After the ceremony, there were two hours when all of the girls were really depressed. We felt bad because our unhappiness had caused theirs and we didnt want to spend our last day with them moping. After a couple sad hours our attempts to cheer them up finally worked. We spent the rest of the day singing, laughing and taking lots of silly pictures.
To lighten our suitcases we had decided to give some of our clothes away to the girls. We brought some of our closest friends, Nancy, Betty, Lillian and Vivian, into our room so that they could take some of the clothes we were getting rid of. They all excitedly sifted through the pile, trying on several different outfits. We'd never seen them wearing anything other than their uniforms and it made us so happy to see how ecstatic they were to try on all the new clothes. At one point, Lillian put on a pair of khaki pants, a flowered shirt, oversized hiking boots, and a safari hat. The sight of her in the outfit was so hilarious and even better was the excitement in her eyes to be wearing that outfit. While they were trying on our old clothes, we put on their uniforms and held a little fashion show.
In all of the excitement we mistakenly locked the keys inside our room as we left. We had been so careful about preventing this from happening since the first day because to our knowledge, there are no spare keys to our room. We desperately brainstormed ways to get back into our room . When we asked Catherine if she knew a way to break in to the dorm, which is a cement building with metal doors and barred windows, she immediately climbed up to the window and tried to squeeze through the four-by-four inch space between the bars. We had a large audience at this point, and realizing our dilemna, they all started to lift up the smallest girls and shove them through the bars. Finally Faith Shiru, an eight-year old who is incredibly skinny, walked by and everyone cheered as Ann Mbuela grabbed her arm, lifted her up to the window and successfully pushed her through the four-by-four inch space.
Joseph arrived at seven pm to pick us up and we spent an hour saying goodbye to the girls. Its impossible to put into words how sad and difficult that hour was, and it still hasnt hit us that every morning we wont be woken up to the sound of the girls racing for hot water.
Thursday was our last day in Machakos and also school closing day for the term. That morning, we both woke up at 5:00 AM to go to the bathroom. Earlier that week, we had learned the reason for the daily morning stampede past our room. Every morning the cook heats water for the girls to use to bathe, but only enough for about 8 girls. So every morning, once the house mother opens the gate, all the girls race eachother to the kitchen for the hot water. As we walked downstairs,we heard the sound of dozens of girls running towards us and suddenly we saw one girl zoom past us,closely followed by ten more girls. We excitedly cheered them all on, trying to identify who was in the top eight. It was a great start to our last day with the girls.
On closing day, a special meal is prepared, complete with chapati,ndazi,stew and rice. The older girls spent all morning in the kitchen cutting vegetables, rolling chapati dough and deep frying ndazi. With the only other girls in the kitchen who werent cooking, Felista(4 years old) and nDunge(5), we watched Betty and Vivian fry chapati and Lucy and Wendy cut up huge slabs of beef. The school closing ceremony was held at 1:00. The teachers, counselors and visitors sat at a long table atoo the stage looking down at the girls seated facing the stage. It felt strange sitting above them, as if we were their authorities, when we felt more like their friends. During the ceremony, the teachers called up each class and ranked every girl, giving each a prize( a wash-cloth and a pen). They even ranked the nursery and the special-ed class. We were so proud to see that all of our closest friends were called as the 1st and 2nd in their class. Looking down and seeing all of their faces and knowing it was the last day we would see them made us very emotional. None of the girls had ever seen us cry and it made them very upset and emotional themselves. After the ceremony, there were two hours when all of the girls were really depressed. We felt bad because our unhappiness had caused theirs and we didnt want to spend our last day with them moping. After a couple sad hours our attempts to cheer them up finally worked. We spent the rest of the day singing, laughing and taking lots of silly pictures.
To lighten our suitcases we had decided to give some of our clothes away to the girls. We brought some of our closest friends, Nancy, Betty, Lillian and Vivian, into our room so that they could take some of the clothes we were getting rid of. They all excitedly sifted through the pile, trying on several different outfits. We'd never seen them wearing anything other than their uniforms and it made us so happy to see how ecstatic they were to try on all the new clothes. At one point, Lillian put on a pair of khaki pants, a flowered shirt, oversized hiking boots, and a safari hat. The sight of her in the outfit was so hilarious and even better was the excitement in her eyes to be wearing that outfit. While they were trying on our old clothes, we put on their uniforms and held a little fashion show.
In all of the excitement we mistakenly locked the keys inside our room as we left. We had been so careful about preventing this from happening since the first day because to our knowledge, there are no spare keys to our room. We desperately brainstormed ways to get back into our room . When we asked Catherine if she knew a way to break in to the dorm, which is a cement building with metal doors and barred windows, she immediately climbed up to the window and tried to squeeze through the four-by-four inch space between the bars. We had a large audience at this point, and realizing our dilemna, they all started to lift up the smallest girls and shove them through the bars. Finally Faith Shiru, an eight-year old who is incredibly skinny, walked by and everyone cheered as Ann Mbuela grabbed her arm, lifted her up to the window and successfully pushed her through the four-by-four inch space.
Joseph arrived at seven pm to pick us up and we spent an hour saying goodbye to the girls. Its impossible to put into words how sad and difficult that hour was, and it still hasnt hit us that every morning we wont be woken up to the sound of the girls racing for hot water.
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Today, being our last Sunday in Machakos, we threw a party for the girls. Every day, the girls eat one of two meals; muthakoi (beans and corn), or rice and beans. The government only has enough money to provide for necessities, so the girls haven't enjoyed sweets or alternative meals since they lived at home. So yesterday, we went into Machakos town with our friend Lucy, and bought ingredients for stew, rice, chapatti, and mandazi.
We bought most of the ingredients for the stew in the open market, where Lucy has many vendor friends. We spent a while just hanging out in the market with all the women selling fruits and vegetables. When a man carrying a stereo walked by us and we started dancing, we heard an enormous burst of laughter and cheering. When we looked around, we realized that literally, every person in the market was looking over at us and cheering. Mzungus aren't common in the open market.
Before doing our shopping, we spent the afternoon at Lucy's office with her support group for orphaned children who have AIDS. Twenty children and their care givers (usually grandmothers) gather at Lucy's office once a month to enjoy a delicious meal that she cooks for them, toys, television, and music. We spent a long time talking with many of the caregivers and were really impressed by the sacrifices that they make for the children. It's not easy for them to provide for themselves, let alone their grandchildren who have many additional needs because of their sickness. One of the caregivers even contracted AIDS herself from caring for her sick daughter who had the virus, and now, despite her own malady, is caring for her HIV positive grandaughter. After leaving the office, Lucy took us to the area where most of the children and their caregivers live; the Machakos slum. One of the caregivers showed us her home, where she and her three children live. It was one room with a dirt floor and mud walls, that was only large enough to fit two twin sized beds and a desk. She told us that she struggles to pay the rent every month (700 shillings, approximately 8 dollars). Despite her obvious struggles and poor living conditions, this woman, along with the rest of the caregivers and their children, seemed to carry a surprisingly positive attitude.
We spent this morning in the kitchen with the oldest girls and the cook preparing mandazi, chapatti, stew, and rice. It was interesting how all of the girls knew by heart how to cook each dish. We realized that even now, neither of us know how to cook any specialized dishes, while these ten and eleven-year-old girls have at least six under their belts.
Earlier this week, the manager of the center, Olive, expressed her concern that if we threw this party for the girls, they might "starve". After discussing with other staff members about the quite stressful and frustrating conversation that we'd had with Olive regarding the party, we realized that her expressions of concern for the girls' "health", were just an excuse to ruin their one fun day. Francis has informed us that Olive's only concern is money, and that she has no care whatsoever for the children's wellbeing. Even the girls have told us numerous stories about Olive's mistreatment. Apparently if she catches them playing or having fun, she punishes them (cleaning the toilets). In fact, the one time that we've ever seen her interacting with any of the girls, was when she walked by about five of them and found reasons to scold each individual girl there. We almost feel like we're witnessing the real life version of Matilda, in which Francis is Ms. Honey, and Olive is the evil principle. However, we certainly proved Olive's "concerns" wrong as each girl got six mandazi with tea, a huge lunch and dinner, and so much chapatti that they were actually giving them away after dinner. On a normal day, the girls would be scraping their plates clean and sometimes even eating roasted grasshoppers.
In the afternoon the girls did various activities such as a dance competition, relay races, and bible trivia. The girls knew the answer to all the questions that Christine prepared, while we struggled to even understand her questions. Everyone we've met here is Catholic, and we've gotten used to their prayers before meals, although we still don't know whether we're supposed to close our eyes or not when the prayer is being said. On Friday night we had dinner at Lucy's house along with one of her colleagues, a volunteer from Japan. As we sat down for dinner, Lucy's husband suggested that one of the three of us lead the prayer. After looking around awkwardly, we each declared our very non-catholic religions; "independent lutheran...jewish...buddhist." Lucy's husband decided it best that we just not pray.
We bought most of the ingredients for the stew in the open market, where Lucy has many vendor friends. We spent a while just hanging out in the market with all the women selling fruits and vegetables. When a man carrying a stereo walked by us and we started dancing, we heard an enormous burst of laughter and cheering. When we looked around, we realized that literally, every person in the market was looking over at us and cheering. Mzungus aren't common in the open market.
Before doing our shopping, we spent the afternoon at Lucy's office with her support group for orphaned children who have AIDS. Twenty children and their care givers (usually grandmothers) gather at Lucy's office once a month to enjoy a delicious meal that she cooks for them, toys, television, and music. We spent a long time talking with many of the caregivers and were really impressed by the sacrifices that they make for the children. It's not easy for them to provide for themselves, let alone their grandchildren who have many additional needs because of their sickness. One of the caregivers even contracted AIDS herself from caring for her sick daughter who had the virus, and now, despite her own malady, is caring for her HIV positive grandaughter. After leaving the office, Lucy took us to the area where most of the children and their caregivers live; the Machakos slum. One of the caregivers showed us her home, where she and her three children live. It was one room with a dirt floor and mud walls, that was only large enough to fit two twin sized beds and a desk. She told us that she struggles to pay the rent every month (700 shillings, approximately 8 dollars). Despite her obvious struggles and poor living conditions, this woman, along with the rest of the caregivers and their children, seemed to carry a surprisingly positive attitude.
We spent this morning in the kitchen with the oldest girls and the cook preparing mandazi, chapatti, stew, and rice. It was interesting how all of the girls knew by heart how to cook each dish. We realized that even now, neither of us know how to cook any specialized dishes, while these ten and eleven-year-old girls have at least six under their belts.
Earlier this week, the manager of the center, Olive, expressed her concern that if we threw this party for the girls, they might "starve". After discussing with other staff members about the quite stressful and frustrating conversation that we'd had with Olive regarding the party, we realized that her expressions of concern for the girls' "health", were just an excuse to ruin their one fun day. Francis has informed us that Olive's only concern is money, and that she has no care whatsoever for the children's wellbeing. Even the girls have told us numerous stories about Olive's mistreatment. Apparently if she catches them playing or having fun, she punishes them (cleaning the toilets). In fact, the one time that we've ever seen her interacting with any of the girls, was when she walked by about five of them and found reasons to scold each individual girl there. We almost feel like we're witnessing the real life version of Matilda, in which Francis is Ms. Honey, and Olive is the evil principle. However, we certainly proved Olive's "concerns" wrong as each girl got six mandazi with tea, a huge lunch and dinner, and so much chapatti that they were actually giving them away after dinner. On a normal day, the girls would be scraping their plates clean and sometimes even eating roasted grasshoppers.
In the afternoon the girls did various activities such as a dance competition, relay races, and bible trivia. The girls knew the answer to all the questions that Christine prepared, while we struggled to even understand her questions. Everyone we've met here is Catholic, and we've gotten used to their prayers before meals, although we still don't know whether we're supposed to close our eyes or not when the prayer is being said. On Friday night we had dinner at Lucy's house along with one of her colleagues, a volunteer from Japan. As we sat down for dinner, Lucy's husband suggested that one of the three of us lead the prayer. After looking around awkwardly, we each declared our very non-catholic religions; "independent lutheran...jewish...buddhist." Lucy's husband decided it best that we just not pray.
Friday, July 23, 2010
This is Maria, left, and her twin sister, Catherine. We took this picture while we were painting one of the classrooms. Though some of the girls have lost their initial excitement about having us here, Maria is always just as excited to see us as she was on the first day. Whenever she sees us, she runs up to us, grinning. She's also very good at sports, and loves the camera more than any other girls. Catherine also has the same great spirit as her sister. Her humor is both cute and sarcastic, and she has a hilarious attitude. While she's never annoying about hanging off of us or constantly hugging us, she can still be so cuddly and cute. Even though she's not one of the best English speakers, and we can't converse with her as easily as we can with some of the others, we feel like we know her personality the best of all the girls, and we love her so much. One of the things we love about her is how rounded her personality is. She's talented at so many things. She's a really amazing dancer, and we can tell she truly loves it because we've often seen her just dancing alone to no music. She also loves to draw. Whenever we do big drawing projects with all the girls, Catherine always helps one of the youngest girls, Vanessa, with her drawings, which is so nice to see because she usually acts like the tough girl of the bunch. She always adds some humor to whatever she's doing. She sings the American songs we've taught her at ten times the normal speed and in a funny voice, which always makes us laugh.
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Mombasa
We went to Mombasa this weekend. We spent a lot of time at Diani beach where there is probably the highest concentration of white people in Kenya. Because of this, there are also a lot of "beach boys" and Masai warriors who bug you inscently to buy their goods. Throughout our three days spent there, we made up roughly fifteen different stories about ourselves to get them to leave us alone.
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Wamaitha na Waithera
Yesterday Nancy, Betty, and Lilian gave us Kikuyu names; Wamaitha and Waithera. All the girls have two names, the first of which is generally an English name while the second is a name from their tribe. Most of the girls at the center are either Kikuyu, Luo, or Akamba. Often Kenyans can tell what tribe others are from just by knowing their second name. The other day we were telling Christine about Vivian, Lilian, and Betty, and she was able to tell us where they came from and what their tribes were. We hadn't realized until this week that the girls mostly call eachother by their second names rather than their first names. It gets a bit confusing sometimes because a lot of the girls share the same first names.
The above picture is of two girls we really love, Wendy (right), and Citrus. Wendy has been here for the longes out of all the girls. At a very young age she was brought to the Nairobi Children's Home by the police who found her wondering around alone in a slum in Nairobi. Despite the fact that she most likely doesn't have a home to go back to, Wendy is always in high spirits. If we were to give the girls superlatives, Wendy would easily be "the sunshine". Whenever we look over at her, she grins, but then quickly hides her smile shyly. We can't think of one time when we've seen her in a bad mood. Citrus would most definitely be given the superlative "class clown". Almost every morning we hear her loud, distinguishable laugh over the other noises such as unidentified, suspicious animals climbing around on our roof and girls running (we still don't know what exactly their doing).
From left to right: Vivian, Citrus, and Betty in the back.
** Aliya-We were so happy to read your comments! We miss you!! Hope Kirov is great!
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Mafuta tafadali!
The other day we were watching the girls wash their clothes. We were amazed at how methodical and efficient all the girls, including the youngest ones, were at this chore. After washing their clothes, they used the same bar of soap to scrub their heads and faces. We noticed that the soap made all their faces very dry so we brought down some of our own lotion. While we had initially intended to give lotion to only Faith, the girl in the above picture, we suddenly found ourselves surrounded by a swarm of excited girls with their hands out, asking for "mafuta". Since that day we've been occasionally bringing the lotion down and the girls are just as excited as the first time.
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