My last entry ended the night before i began my epic climb up Kili. It was Wednesday morning when i started, and after a dissatisfying breakfast i met again with my guide to begin walking. My guide was a 26ish yr old skinny Tanzanian man, who for privacy purposes i shall call George. I was so nervous as i knew ahead of me i had 5 nights on the mountain and a serious amount of walking which would require some intense endurance and motivation. It wasn't long before we walked through the rainforest level, and we were lucky enough to spot some blue monkeys migrating. It was a fantastic moment and would have been one of the highlights of my trip. Unfortunately it was ruined slightly by the fact that George tried repeatedly to hold my hand. It's a little disconcerting to be alone with a strange man in a forest who is trying to hold your hand. I wasn’t sure if it was a cultural thing, but as the behaviour continued it intensified through the day and into the next. I've said all along that nothing would stop me getting to the top, (except perhaps imminent death). I didn't expect the challenge to come in the form of inappropriate behaviour, so it was difficult to deal with on that first day. I found myself having a strong word with him about the differences between Tanzanian and English cultures, and after that he kept his hands to himself...
Lunches on the mountain were quite nice - cucumber sandwiches, roast chicken leg, cake, biscuits, mango juice, boiled egg, and whole lemons. Apparently the lemons were oranges but I wouldn't believe it, I said to George if that is an orange then it is the spawn of an evil lemon and a very pale looking orange. The second day I had hoped for better fruity news in my lunchbox but alas, there sat another lemon. As I’m not partial to eating whole lemons as snacks I gave it a miss. At least my lemon could masquerade as an orange, the poor girl next to me had been given a lime...
They give you a serious amount of food on the mountain, to keep up your energy levels. For breakfast you're given 3 bowls of porridge, eggs, sausages, tomatoes and cucumber, and hard cold bread that they've mistaken to be how we make toast, followed by some pineapple. Then there's lunch, and dinner is 3 bowls of cucumber soup, 3 pancakes, a massive plate of rice, chicken and beans, and half a papaya. Also, when you finish your days climbing they give you a plate of popcorn and nuts and about 6 biscuits, and insist you have at least 10 cups of tea a day. I ate what I could but make no mistake, this food was all barely edible, you may think, well sausages are quite nice to have, but these sausages would be blood red and spicy, the cucumbers had hard pips in, the pineapple would be off or the rice would be starchy and cold. I don't mean to complain, I ate everything I could, but it was very difficult at times, especially as I started to get higher and feel sick from altitude sickness.
The second day passed and that evening I shared a hut with a Swedish girl and a Japanese girl. The Swedish girl was on her way down the mountain and had not made it to the top. This didn't give me much confidence, coupled with the fact that I spoke to loads of people coming off the mountain and asked them if they'd made it to the peak and I would say about 1 in every 10 made it. It seemed everyone had got to 5,700 which is the first peak on our route, but altitude sickness meant they couldn't get any further. I felt that if I could get to 5,700 without any complications I would know whether I could get to the top or not – in essence, getting to 5,700 was vital.
The third day I couldn't get my pace right. I would go too fast and George would say 'pole-pole' which means 'slowly' - the catchphrase of Kili, so I’d slow up and he'd say 'we're not supposed to be last you know' so I’d speed up... It was a long day and by the time I got to the third camp I was willing myself on by counting every rock that I passed and setting myself little challenges on the way. I arrived at camp 3 exhausted with a bad headache. I was worried that altitude sickness had already got to me, it would be a tragedy if I couldn't even have attempted the final summit after what I’d been through for the last 3 days. I had a real lonely, miserable moment that evening where I convinced myself I couldn't do it - exactly the reason you need to be in a team. I don't know how but I got through it and even managed to get to sleep that night.
I was woken up at 11:30pm where I had to dress and have breakfast. I was a bit casual about the whole thing really but climbing Kili is a very serious affair and when George came in and found me sipping tea without my shoes and gaiters on he was a bit cross with me. I quickly sorted myself out and we were off, into the minus 20 degree temperatures and pitch blackness. We quietly made our way up the scree path, pole-pole. It would take 7 hours in total to get to the summit but I didn't dare look at my watch, anything like that would de-motivate me. I regularly passed two Norwegian girls and we'd have little chats and they spurred me on a bit. After climbing for 4 hours without a break I started to lose it. We got to 5,200m and I blacked out and fell over. I was obviously very concerned, but after some thought I felt i could continue. I then proceeded to have 200 metres (of height, not distance), which takes about an hour, of pure hell where I was dizzy, sick, headachy, my nose was chapped and stinging like mad, I lost my hearing for a time, I was delirious and became convinced a massive gerbil was sat on the top of the mountain egging me on (i have no idea why), my tendons had all ceased up and were causing me immense pain so that I had to continually flap my arms to warm them up, I must have looked ridiculous. Then I got to 5,400m and I had passed the Norwegian girls again and George said something to me about needing to be strong, and I just pulled myself out of my slump and became strong again. I got through many of these tough times on the mountain by repeating my mantra: "Goonies never say die. Goonies never say die..."
I walked the last 300 metres (approx 1.5hrs) to the peak with little problem except for the tendon issue and a bit of a headache. I also got strength when I saw the sun rising. I knew that I was supposed to be at the top for the sun rise so when I saw a thin strip of orange on the horizon I smiled to myself knowing that it wouldn't be long before I made it. And when I did, well I was ecstatic. Not just because I’d made it to 5,700 but because I didn’t feel completely exhausted and my altitude sickness wasn't that bad, so I knew then that I would make it to the peak, or so I thought. I started crying with happiness, and George pointed to a flashing light across the way on what looked like a different mountain. I said, 'what's that?' he said 'the peak' I said, 'of which mountain?' he said 'of Kili!!!' it then dawned on me that I literally had another 2 hours of climbing ahead of me to get to the peak.
We got going pretty quickly and didn't really stop at all. It was all about exhaustion at this point because the altitude would only increase another 180 metres in total, but it was about 4-5kilometres away. I kept pushing and pushing, I got to the point where I couldn't even lift my feet, or even put them a full foot length in front of each other. Over the entire trip I had 5 walking speeds. This is how I classified them, starting with the bottom of the mountain through to the top. 1: 'Walking-to-the-shops' 2: 'Pride-and-prejudice-meander-by-the-river' 3: 'extreme-teenage-moping' 4: Frodo-Baggins-scramble-for-the-pit-of-mount-doom' 5: 'Zombie-mummy. What-a-slow-death-would-look-like-if-it-was-a-walk.' I cannot tell you now how I got to the end. At times I was sort of dragged by George and other guides, other times I just pushed myself along. The whole time I was on the brink of throwing up and if I thought about cucumbers for too long I retched. The last few steps are a bit of a blur, but I am delighted to tell you that I made it all the way to the 5,895 metre peak! We took some photos and every time I smiled tears would fall out of my eyes. I wandered around a bit and picked up a rock, then I just sat by myself and had a moment to think about what I’d accomplished, and have a good cry. If anyone tries to make out that Kili isn’t a big deal, they are lying. It is the single most difficult thing I’ve ever done in my life and even if you're incredibly fit, it is a tough old challenge. I can only liken the feeling to what some might feel to get married, or when they see their first born. To me, I felt complete, like I’d got a bit of my soul back. Funnily enough though I now feel like I left a little piece of me on that mountain... Namely about half a stone of fat from my mid-drift (saved especially for such an occasion).
The walk back down was easy and event-less, so I won't bore you with tales of what the scree was like to ski down or what I listen to on my iPod between camp 3 and 2. What I will say though is that after Kili I became very philosophical and thought a lot about stuff. On my final evening I was sat in Springlands Hotel restaurant listening to people complain about the food and the air-conditioning and I smiled to myself... I finished dinner, and decided, without hope, to check if there was any dessert. Low and behold, there sat a massive chocolate fudge cake with green icing. So I think the lesson to be learnt there is to always give it a try, because you might just get lucky.
I had hoped that was the end of my adventures and it would just be a simple ride back to Nairobi for my plane. Alas, it was not to be and my final bit of excitement came when my bus driver decided not to stop at the airport at all and instead take me directly to Nairobi central bus station. He insisted he had asked three times if anyone wanted to go to the airport but I insisted I hadn't heard him, perhaps because he was pumping out Michael Jackson Thriller at such decibels that would blow my eardrums had I not have had my fingers in them. The arguing was pointless so I just sat back down, broke out into a cold sweat, and planned what I was going to do, which was to get a taxi back. 20 dollars (grr) and 2 hours later I was at the airport.
Having a near heart attack and being unceremoniously dumped outside the airport was not the way I hoped to end this story! Instead I’ll end it by telling you that at the other end of the airport I had the most amazing surprise – my lovely boyfriend surprised me by picking me up, it was like the icing on the best chocolate cake i’ve ever eaten :)
If you are considering volunteering, then i would whole-heartedly recommend that you choose African Impact for your experience. If you’re still unsure about volunteering, you can talk to me on Twitter: twitter.com/lydiawalker, or find African Impact on Facebook and talk to them.
If you have been inspired by this blog and would like to donate any money, then i have a donation page set up where the money will go towards Hope school, their chicken project, and Mary’s training to be a qualified teacher – a worthy cause, i hope you’ll agree. You can visit it here: http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/LydiaWalker
Thank you so much for reading my blog, i hope you’ve enjoyed reading it as much as i’ve enjoyed writing it!
Lydia xx
Saturday 9 April 2011
Monday 4 April 2011
Final day with African Impact and a trip to Mombasa
My penultimate blog entry is about my last day with African Impact, and my time in Mombasa with my African Impact friends. I left off on the last Friday where we were going to the slum schools...
The second slum schools was a very different experience from the first. The slums were in essence the same, but these weren't built on a rubbish tip, they were just a normal shanty town. The school was much bigger and the kids were well dressed (relatively speaking), spoke good English and went right up to the age of 16 - staying in school until your 16 is unheard of in village schools, they're mainly pulled out before or during secondary to start working. The teacher liked to show us around each class, where the kids would all sing a song and recite a little piece about themselves, such as: “my name is George. I am a boy. I am eleven years old. I go to so-and-so school and I am in class 7”. It feels very formal and regimented, I tended to feel a little embarrassed by it but for them it was an important ritual to show us how welcome we were.
We were asked to split up and help out in class. Meg and I paired up and chose to go into the top class - I wanted to see what they were learning and I’d been with pre-schoolers up to that point so wanted a change. Our class were learning algebra and at once Meg and I realised our mistake when the teacher said, 'so you can just go around and mark their books and give them help where needed' - well I haven't done algebra in over 14 years... But we sat at the back and listened to the examples and we started to get it. Then the teacher left us to run the class... I realised that the kids did not understand even the basics of algebra and did classic time-wasting such as write lines through their books so they didn’t have to start the sums. When they did start and got them wrong, I carefully explained how to do it, and had immediate results where the kids would realise what the method was and started doing it right. I really enjoyed helping them and seeing the instant change, and was almost annoyed to be dragged away to go to the Maasai markets. If I had my time again I’d ask to be placed at that school, i could see how i could help immediately and got so much out of it myself.
That was my last African Impact working experience, and it was a lovely way to end my time on the programme. It didn’t dawn on me until a week later what an effect all the school kids, teachers and communities had on me. It’s difficult to explain my feelings on Kenya and my time with African Impact because i have so many feelings about it. With reflection, i think one of the most surprising things about my time is how incredibly comfortable i felt with everyone and everything. I got so used to the squalor, the poverty and the deprivation that i hardly noticed it, and perhaps eventually felt a little like the people who actually live there. I found everyone’s friendliness, enthusiasm and motivation to be contagious; it really was the best time of my life.
When i speak to people about volunteering, they tell me they are concerned with feeling overwhelmed by the sheer size of the problems that they’ll see and fear that knowing that they can’t fix it would be too much for them, almost burdening them for the rest of their lives. I think that as a volunteer you have to accept the inevitable, that you cannot fix the big problems such as the economy, disease, human rights, abuse, poverty. But you can help to ease these problems within a small community, and work from the roots upwards. To me, African Impact is one of the first organisations i’ve ever truly believed in. I feel 100% confident that they know what they’re doing, that if i give them money they’ll spend it wisely, and that they are committed to building a sustainable future for those communities. As one little person there’s not much i can give to the world, but being part of African Impact makes my contribution that little bit more effective.
It now feels wrong that i left the slums and went to a tourist district whereby we essentially contributed to the problem of the rich/poor divide. However, at the time, we were all so exhausted from the week that a break by the beach seemed a great idea...There were five of us that travelled to Mombasa on the night bus. We were giddy with excitement and behaved like teenagers all night.
The bus was uncomfortable, okay the seats reclined but only a bit, and the roads were really bumpy so if you did finally get to sleep you'd be bounced right out of your chair. I think the driver turned up to the wrong venue as he clearly thought that we were at a disco - all night he pumped out 80's disco cheese so loud I could hear it through my own music turned up full - strangely everyone else including all the girls could sleep right through it! About 3 in the morning I had to say something and he turned it down, a fraction... It was like trying to go to sleep in a tumble dryer with MC Hammer banging at my head - impossible. I did discover though that I can sleep if I listen to Mumford and Sons, a trick I used repeatedly throughout my time in Kilimanjaro too. I was so tired when we got to Mombasa that I wasn't overly impressed that before we even got off the bus we were inundated with men shouting at us 'tuk tuk!' 'tax, tax!' 'm'lady!' I literally couldn't even get off the bus. Not fun. We were swiftly picked up and taken to our hotel, where we had been upgraded to the penthouse suite! It was incredible, especially compared to the places we'd been living and seeing. It did make me feel very ashamed having such luxuries and knowing what people in the villages were living like in comparison.
We spent our days by the pool relaxing and sunbathing as some of the girls had gone to the beach in the morning (I was asleep on a sun lounger by then) and found they were again surrounded by men, so it wasn't very enjoyable. For me sunbathing is a full-time, arduous task as I’m so white I’m almost translucent - a stage further and you'd be able to see my internal organs. But I religiously stayed in the sun and covered myself in factor 50 until finally, by Sunday evening, I had a nice mild, reddish tan.
On the Sunday, I was just relaxing on the sun lounger when to my horror I noticed a massive line of ants walking to and from the pool. I'd never seen so many in all my life and watched in fascination as they converged near a hole next to the sun lounger, all with a piece of sugar in their mouths. I realised when they started to congregate underneath my sun lounger that they were in fact conspiring to lift me up and take me to their queen. A panicked decision led me to order their genocide by the poolside attendant. I am ashamed that i’m responsible for wiping out an entire colony of ants - karma is definitely coming for me. On Sunday night the girls and I had some crazy girl time in our penthouse, playing music and eating cake, I haven't had a girly weekend like that in years and I loved it. I can’t believe what amazing friends i’ve made in such a short space of time, i feel like i’ve known them forever. I think that African Impact has brought us together in a way that nothing else can, because we’ve all shared such an incredible experience.
Monday morning, very very early, I got up to catch my bus to Moshi, sadly leaving all the girls behind who were spending another day by the pool. It was pretty daunting, being taken in a blacked out car to the bus station in Mombasa and getting on a local bus by myself. I was sat at the very front of the bus, which meant I got to see every little twist and turn, donkey, goat, pot hole and cliff edge in the road. Awesome. Next to me were two little Kenyan girls, one of which had amazing red glittery shoes on.
Now i don’t want to generalize, but the drivers in Kenya all seem to be completely mental. The driver from Mombasa to Moshi was a perfect example - he made some seriously questionable decisions in his terrain-avoidment-strategy. Of course, the bomb under the bus would have exploded if we dropped below 50mph so he must be sure to maintain the speed at all times... Nothing could induce this man to slow down - pot holes in the road, blinding sandstorms, oncoming juggernauts, all three at the same time, he wouldn't even stop for passengers to get onboard. Kenyans seem to like to jump onboard moving buses, and this wasn't an open-sided bus, it had a door and everything, but it's all part of the challenge they like to give themselves. At times like this all you can really do is plug yourself into your iPod and listen to Rage Against the Machine on full blast. When I didn't have my eyes clamped shut, I noticed that the scenery was beautiful as we drove through the Serengeti national park.
Considering I was on my way to the biggest mountain in Africa, the terrain seemed worryingly flat, so it was a good sign when I was finally given a Tanzanian immigration form. You fill out a form, get your passport stamped, walk through about 20 metres of no country whatsoever, then come into Tanzania, fill out a form, passport stamped, and you're in. I sat and thought about those 20 metres a lot on that 7 hour bus journey - where exactly was I?!
I chose a terrible time to develop narcolepsy. It happened just as we were pulling into Moshi, a time where I desperately needed to keep my eyes open and find my hotel, as the detour to Mombasa meant that I was now not being dropped off directly outside it. Nothing, however, could have kept my eyes open at that point. Not even the promise of a cheese sandwich. I've only known myself this tired once before, on a flight back from Benidorm when I was 17 and had lived off pro-plus for 3 days - I woke up with peas stuck to my face where I’d fallen asleep in the airplane food.
Eventually we pulled up to the bus station and I woke up, confused and disorientated. There were a couple of other western girls sat at the back of my bus, who when leaving the bus were greeted by another western woman who whisked them off in a smart Jeep, leaving me in the dust, with three bags too heavy for me to carry. At this point I wished that previous me had thought about future me and organised some transport. It's lucky that Tanzanians are just as friendly as Kenyans, and one of the bus porters went and found me a taxi, got in it with me and all my luggage, charged me 6 US dollars (grr) to drive round the block a few times then a few hundred metres down the road to my hotel.
I had 2 days relaxing at Springlands hotel where I spent time organising my bags for Kili and burning my stomach to a sort of tomato-red colour. That evening I went to the orientation session and learnt that despite me booking myself into a group, I was in fact climbing Kili all by myself. This did not go down well with me at all. I wanted to be in a group so that I could have the mental support of other group members, so that I was safe, and so that I didn’t have to tip as much at the end. It would mean that I would have all to myself 3 porters, 1 cook and 1 guide, it seemed a little over-the-top. But there was nothing I could do, so I made the best of it.
The food in the restaurant was very average and I complained to myself that the food wasn't half as nice as Brackenhurst, that the place wasn't as friendly and that the fan/air conditioning in the rooms was dreadful. Ahh, post-Kilimanjaro I think back to that naive person and shake my head at them, as little did I know what I was about to endure in the next 5 days...
The second slum schools was a very different experience from the first. The slums were in essence the same, but these weren't built on a rubbish tip, they were just a normal shanty town. The school was much bigger and the kids were well dressed (relatively speaking), spoke good English and went right up to the age of 16 - staying in school until your 16 is unheard of in village schools, they're mainly pulled out before or during secondary to start working. The teacher liked to show us around each class, where the kids would all sing a song and recite a little piece about themselves, such as: “my name is George. I am a boy. I am eleven years old. I go to so-and-so school and I am in class 7”. It feels very formal and regimented, I tended to feel a little embarrassed by it but for them it was an important ritual to show us how welcome we were.
We were asked to split up and help out in class. Meg and I paired up and chose to go into the top class - I wanted to see what they were learning and I’d been with pre-schoolers up to that point so wanted a change. Our class were learning algebra and at once Meg and I realised our mistake when the teacher said, 'so you can just go around and mark their books and give them help where needed' - well I haven't done algebra in over 14 years... But we sat at the back and listened to the examples and we started to get it. Then the teacher left us to run the class... I realised that the kids did not understand even the basics of algebra and did classic time-wasting such as write lines through their books so they didn’t have to start the sums. When they did start and got them wrong, I carefully explained how to do it, and had immediate results where the kids would realise what the method was and started doing it right. I really enjoyed helping them and seeing the instant change, and was almost annoyed to be dragged away to go to the Maasai markets. If I had my time again I’d ask to be placed at that school, i could see how i could help immediately and got so much out of it myself.
That was my last African Impact working experience, and it was a lovely way to end my time on the programme. It didn’t dawn on me until a week later what an effect all the school kids, teachers and communities had on me. It’s difficult to explain my feelings on Kenya and my time with African Impact because i have so many feelings about it. With reflection, i think one of the most surprising things about my time is how incredibly comfortable i felt with everyone and everything. I got so used to the squalor, the poverty and the deprivation that i hardly noticed it, and perhaps eventually felt a little like the people who actually live there. I found everyone’s friendliness, enthusiasm and motivation to be contagious; it really was the best time of my life.
When i speak to people about volunteering, they tell me they are concerned with feeling overwhelmed by the sheer size of the problems that they’ll see and fear that knowing that they can’t fix it would be too much for them, almost burdening them for the rest of their lives. I think that as a volunteer you have to accept the inevitable, that you cannot fix the big problems such as the economy, disease, human rights, abuse, poverty. But you can help to ease these problems within a small community, and work from the roots upwards. To me, African Impact is one of the first organisations i’ve ever truly believed in. I feel 100% confident that they know what they’re doing, that if i give them money they’ll spend it wisely, and that they are committed to building a sustainable future for those communities. As one little person there’s not much i can give to the world, but being part of African Impact makes my contribution that little bit more effective.
It now feels wrong that i left the slums and went to a tourist district whereby we essentially contributed to the problem of the rich/poor divide. However, at the time, we were all so exhausted from the week that a break by the beach seemed a great idea...There were five of us that travelled to Mombasa on the night bus. We were giddy with excitement and behaved like teenagers all night.
The bus was uncomfortable, okay the seats reclined but only a bit, and the roads were really bumpy so if you did finally get to sleep you'd be bounced right out of your chair. I think the driver turned up to the wrong venue as he clearly thought that we were at a disco - all night he pumped out 80's disco cheese so loud I could hear it through my own music turned up full - strangely everyone else including all the girls could sleep right through it! About 3 in the morning I had to say something and he turned it down, a fraction... It was like trying to go to sleep in a tumble dryer with MC Hammer banging at my head - impossible. I did discover though that I can sleep if I listen to Mumford and Sons, a trick I used repeatedly throughout my time in Kilimanjaro too. I was so tired when we got to Mombasa that I wasn't overly impressed that before we even got off the bus we were inundated with men shouting at us 'tuk tuk!' 'tax, tax!' 'm'lady!' I literally couldn't even get off the bus. Not fun. We were swiftly picked up and taken to our hotel, where we had been upgraded to the penthouse suite! It was incredible, especially compared to the places we'd been living and seeing. It did make me feel very ashamed having such luxuries and knowing what people in the villages were living like in comparison.
We spent our days by the pool relaxing and sunbathing as some of the girls had gone to the beach in the morning (I was asleep on a sun lounger by then) and found they were again surrounded by men, so it wasn't very enjoyable. For me sunbathing is a full-time, arduous task as I’m so white I’m almost translucent - a stage further and you'd be able to see my internal organs. But I religiously stayed in the sun and covered myself in factor 50 until finally, by Sunday evening, I had a nice mild, reddish tan.
On the Sunday, I was just relaxing on the sun lounger when to my horror I noticed a massive line of ants walking to and from the pool. I'd never seen so many in all my life and watched in fascination as they converged near a hole next to the sun lounger, all with a piece of sugar in their mouths. I realised when they started to congregate underneath my sun lounger that they were in fact conspiring to lift me up and take me to their queen. A panicked decision led me to order their genocide by the poolside attendant. I am ashamed that i’m responsible for wiping out an entire colony of ants - karma is definitely coming for me. On Sunday night the girls and I had some crazy girl time in our penthouse, playing music and eating cake, I haven't had a girly weekend like that in years and I loved it. I can’t believe what amazing friends i’ve made in such a short space of time, i feel like i’ve known them forever. I think that African Impact has brought us together in a way that nothing else can, because we’ve all shared such an incredible experience.
Monday morning, very very early, I got up to catch my bus to Moshi, sadly leaving all the girls behind who were spending another day by the pool. It was pretty daunting, being taken in a blacked out car to the bus station in Mombasa and getting on a local bus by myself. I was sat at the very front of the bus, which meant I got to see every little twist and turn, donkey, goat, pot hole and cliff edge in the road. Awesome. Next to me were two little Kenyan girls, one of which had amazing red glittery shoes on.
Now i don’t want to generalize, but the drivers in Kenya all seem to be completely mental. The driver from Mombasa to Moshi was a perfect example - he made some seriously questionable decisions in his terrain-avoidment-strategy. Of course, the bomb under the bus would have exploded if we dropped below 50mph so he must be sure to maintain the speed at all times... Nothing could induce this man to slow down - pot holes in the road, blinding sandstorms, oncoming juggernauts, all three at the same time, he wouldn't even stop for passengers to get onboard. Kenyans seem to like to jump onboard moving buses, and this wasn't an open-sided bus, it had a door and everything, but it's all part of the challenge they like to give themselves. At times like this all you can really do is plug yourself into your iPod and listen to Rage Against the Machine on full blast. When I didn't have my eyes clamped shut, I noticed that the scenery was beautiful as we drove through the Serengeti national park.
Considering I was on my way to the biggest mountain in Africa, the terrain seemed worryingly flat, so it was a good sign when I was finally given a Tanzanian immigration form. You fill out a form, get your passport stamped, walk through about 20 metres of no country whatsoever, then come into Tanzania, fill out a form, passport stamped, and you're in. I sat and thought about those 20 metres a lot on that 7 hour bus journey - where exactly was I?!
I chose a terrible time to develop narcolepsy. It happened just as we were pulling into Moshi, a time where I desperately needed to keep my eyes open and find my hotel, as the detour to Mombasa meant that I was now not being dropped off directly outside it. Nothing, however, could have kept my eyes open at that point. Not even the promise of a cheese sandwich. I've only known myself this tired once before, on a flight back from Benidorm when I was 17 and had lived off pro-plus for 3 days - I woke up with peas stuck to my face where I’d fallen asleep in the airplane food.
Eventually we pulled up to the bus station and I woke up, confused and disorientated. There were a couple of other western girls sat at the back of my bus, who when leaving the bus were greeted by another western woman who whisked them off in a smart Jeep, leaving me in the dust, with three bags too heavy for me to carry. At this point I wished that previous me had thought about future me and organised some transport. It's lucky that Tanzanians are just as friendly as Kenyans, and one of the bus porters went and found me a taxi, got in it with me and all my luggage, charged me 6 US dollars (grr) to drive round the block a few times then a few hundred metres down the road to my hotel.
I had 2 days relaxing at Springlands hotel where I spent time organising my bags for Kili and burning my stomach to a sort of tomato-red colour. That evening I went to the orientation session and learnt that despite me booking myself into a group, I was in fact climbing Kili all by myself. This did not go down well with me at all. I wanted to be in a group so that I could have the mental support of other group members, so that I was safe, and so that I didn’t have to tip as much at the end. It would mean that I would have all to myself 3 porters, 1 cook and 1 guide, it seemed a little over-the-top. But there was nothing I could do, so I made the best of it.
The food in the restaurant was very average and I complained to myself that the food wasn't half as nice as Brackenhurst, that the place wasn't as friendly and that the fan/air conditioning in the rooms was dreadful. Ahh, post-Kilimanjaro I think back to that naive person and shake my head at them, as little did I know what I was about to endure in the next 5 days...
Friday 18 March 2011
Baby orphanage, slums, longonot and last week at Hope
Last Friday we had our first trip to the slum schools. Everyone gets really excited about the slum schools, I suppose it's because they're so different from the village schools we all go to. The head teacher at Mukeu once tried to explain the difference to me, saying that a lot of people opt to move into the city in search for better paid work, but to afford it they have to live in the slums. His opinion was why would anyone want to give up the fresh air and space of the village for a slum?
The slums are exactly as you would expect, like the shanty towns you learn about in school. They are built on a rubbish tip, and all houses are made of corrugated iron. It's dirty and smelly and feels claustrophobic. We walked down the main street, then we stopped by a small hole in the corrugated iron. The teacher lifted up the flap and we all went inside to where the tiny school was - over 100 kids. The children were quite well dressed, all in school uniform and their uniforms weren't ripped at all. The older children could all speak English quite well and they were even doing multiplication - that's the first time I’ve seen it in a school - their education is so much better than in village schools. They also did a little dance for us, which is hilarious - I can't really describe it, it is essentially a bum wiggle for the girls and a sort of haka for the boys - brilliant.
After maths we went to 'the field' for sports. We walked up the street with all the kids to the field, which was, a rubbish tip. And I don't mean it was a field full of rubbish, I mean it was actually a landfill site with diggers shifting rubbish around. The smell was really bad at this point and I felt a bit sick. We played duck duck goose with the kids and we sort of danced around (which is what they do quite a lot in schools). Then they split the boys and girls, and the girls played skipping, and the boys played football... I went with the boys and played football, but every time someone would get a goal the ball would go into the rubbish and we had to get one of the locals to get the ball because the kids and we weren't allowed near the rubbish because it was so dangerous. Every now and again a loose goat would join us in the game of football. The day was really crazy and I’m not sure I really like the slums, everyone else really loved it though and are looking forward to the next visit.
On Saturday we climbed mount Longonot. I was very excited about this climb as I drove past it every day I went to Mukeu - it's a volcano in the heart of the Great Rift Valley so the views were going to be spectacular. There were 6 of us climbing that day with varying degrees of experience. What I would say to anyone considering the climb if they come out here, is, don’t underestimate the climb – it’s hot, it’s practically vertical and it takes time to climb. Bring proper walking shoes, 50+ sunscreen, food and at least 2 litres of water (preferably 3). Some of the girls got sick or exhausted, but I had a fantastic day, the views were incredible and the walk was just perfect once you got to the top. Kenyans were literally running past us, some had no water either!
Saturday night some of the girls had planned to go out clubbing in Limuru. I opted to stay in the lodge with some of the other girls and we had cake and popcorn and watched sex in the city (the only DVD we have over here), it was a great night.
On Sunday I went to the Baby Orphanage -Angels. 6 babies live here, and they are orphans because they were either dropped off without a note, left at the hospital because the mum couldn’t afford the price of giving birth (800 shillings – 8 pounds) or the product of a rape. It's heartbreaking to hear and I nearly cried a few times if I thought about it too much. As soon as we got there we were hands on - getting them up, then fed, then we bathed them - I’ve never done more than nervously held a baby before this so for me it was a crash course in babies! I absolutely loved it. I bathed three of the babies including one little girl called Joy who was crying her heart out, I think she had a fever, but not knowing anything about babies I wasn’t sure. I just did what I thought was best and took her by a window with a breeze to cool her down until she stopped crying, then dressed her. I then had to feed and clothe and play with the other babies all afternoon. It was so awesome but exhausting, by the end I had to put my head down on the play mat and fell asleep! The driver Benard picked us up but as he was driving a donkey had run in front of the van causing him to drive the van into a ditch - so we had to wait to get 7 men to literally lift the van out of the ditch!
Monday I went to Hope school, for the first time without Lisa. I came in and the kids were all sat down quietly, and the teacher said to me "I've written work into their books already so they can get started right away" - brilliant news. Then at lunchtime we had a game of duck duck goose, it's always good when you have organised games, it stops them all from jumping on you, plaiting your hair, pulling your watch off etc. In the afternoon they played with the coloured stones Lisa and I made, not sure if they totally got the hang of it but they liked to count them which is always good. As we now have chicks on site, we spend break times with the chicken feed tray on our laps, going through it and picking out the wood chippings, and sometimes little chicken poos. So that's always a nice healthy break from kids jumping on your back... That evening I went for a run, which is the first since I’ve been ill, really glad to be getting back into it.
On Tuesday Mary had gone to Limuru so it was just Esther and I, so I had to take the class by myself again. Seeing as I did such a good job last time I taught ‘chaotic colouring’ again, but this time I was a little more forceful with the naughty kids and had a lot more energy so I just about kept up with it and it didn’t turn into a nightmare like it did last time. First break we sifted the chicken feed from the chicken poos, one of my favourite tasks, then back to class where we used some worksheets I’d had printed up which let the kids trace the letters of the alphabet dot-to-dot style. They love these sheets and already I’ve seen an improvement in their abilities as a result. I asked if I could take the big class the next day, and teach them geography. I just fancied a change from colouring and thought that geography was the only thing I had to offer really. They liked the idea and said that was fine. At lunch time a sheep poked his head into the gates and loudly started to baa - the kids started baa'ing back and we had a hilarious situation for about 5 minutes where the sheep would baa, then the whole school yard would baa back in unison, cracked me up.
That afternoon I got to work on my world map. I'm pretty pleased with the result, though no-one should look too closely at Europe - the placement of some countries is laughable, and Japan looked very odd, and there were some of the 'Stan' countries missing because I couldn't be bothered to put them on, oh yeah and Africa is enormous and so is Kenya, but apart from that the map does look great I promise! I drew and coloured it sat under a tree, and there was an unfortunate incident where a bird crapped on the Philippines, and also a massive drop of water took out half of Eastern Europe, but again, apart from that it looked great!
The next day I took the map into school and they loved it! I also took what I thought was a blow up globe, thinking I could start with an explanation of the earth being round and rotating etc, but unfortunately I blew it up and it was more like an inflatable pillow. I used it anyway, mimicking a globe shape and span it round - I hope the kids don’t currently think we live on rectangular shaped planet... Then I showed them the map and told them about where they lived, and where I came from, then we talked about some big countries and which were hot and which were cold etc, they didn’t really get it but they seemed to be entertained. More chicken feed sifting, colouring and letter dot-to-dots that day, then I got picked up at 2pm an hour early, which was a nice change, so I went home, sunbathed and later took another run.
My last day at Hope school was Thursday and it was eventful! In the morning Gillian and Megan came with me to school to teach the kids fire safety (Gillian's a fire-fighter at home). We went through their first aid kit and made a note of fire hazards and planned a day next week where Gillian will teach them how to put fires out. I adapted the London's burning song so we can teach that to them to help understand, so now it goes "School is burning, school is burning, call the teacher, call the teacher, fire fire! fire fire! pour the water, pour the water." with little hand actions. I was pretty pleased with myself for thinking of this :) The girls helped out in class a bit and the kids behaved impeccably, so they were both impressed. Then at lunchtime I had brought a massive box of biscuits (no sweets as the little ones can choke on them) they all loved the biscuits and have enough for the following weeks. I also brought my ipod and docking station as I wanted to try to have a little party - the party was a massive success as the kids absolutely loved the music!! They were all dancing around and following dance movements we were doing. We started off with Paul Simon which I thought was appropriate, then put on some Rusted Root which has an African beat. Back in the UK I had mused with my friends, if you had to play one song to Africans that depicts Western music, what would it be? Of all the songs we talked about, the very last on my list was the one that they loved the most - Barbara Streisand by Duck Sauce (please don't ask me why I have this on my ipod). As it had a fast pace they LOVED it, we danced around like crazy for ages and the kids hummed along to the tune, a little girl called Joyce who is a great African dancer and smiles all the time was just loving the music - I will take that image with me forever.
On the weekend the girls and I will be going to Mombasa, another little trip we booked through African Impact. After that I will be travelling straight to Moshi to climb Kilimanjaro!! I can't wait for the Kili climb, but I also am starting to miss home. I LOVE it here but I miss my family and boyfriend, I miss English cheese and cups of tea with cold milk, I miss chocolate... I want a change of clothes and to update my ipod and to watch a film other than sex in the city... and I miss hair conditioner. But I’ll miss the girls here, I’ll miss my uninterrupted, peaceful sleeping, I’ll miss the running track and the weather, and the kids, and the variety and unpredictability of every day and I’ll miss teaching!!
The slums are exactly as you would expect, like the shanty towns you learn about in school. They are built on a rubbish tip, and all houses are made of corrugated iron. It's dirty and smelly and feels claustrophobic. We walked down the main street, then we stopped by a small hole in the corrugated iron. The teacher lifted up the flap and we all went inside to where the tiny school was - over 100 kids. The children were quite well dressed, all in school uniform and their uniforms weren't ripped at all. The older children could all speak English quite well and they were even doing multiplication - that's the first time I’ve seen it in a school - their education is so much better than in village schools. They also did a little dance for us, which is hilarious - I can't really describe it, it is essentially a bum wiggle for the girls and a sort of haka for the boys - brilliant.
After maths we went to 'the field' for sports. We walked up the street with all the kids to the field, which was, a rubbish tip. And I don't mean it was a field full of rubbish, I mean it was actually a landfill site with diggers shifting rubbish around. The smell was really bad at this point and I felt a bit sick. We played duck duck goose with the kids and we sort of danced around (which is what they do quite a lot in schools). Then they split the boys and girls, and the girls played skipping, and the boys played football... I went with the boys and played football, but every time someone would get a goal the ball would go into the rubbish and we had to get one of the locals to get the ball because the kids and we weren't allowed near the rubbish because it was so dangerous. Every now and again a loose goat would join us in the game of football. The day was really crazy and I’m not sure I really like the slums, everyone else really loved it though and are looking forward to the next visit.
On Saturday we climbed mount Longonot. I was very excited about this climb as I drove past it every day I went to Mukeu - it's a volcano in the heart of the Great Rift Valley so the views were going to be spectacular. There were 6 of us climbing that day with varying degrees of experience. What I would say to anyone considering the climb if they come out here, is, don’t underestimate the climb – it’s hot, it’s practically vertical and it takes time to climb. Bring proper walking shoes, 50+ sunscreen, food and at least 2 litres of water (preferably 3). Some of the girls got sick or exhausted, but I had a fantastic day, the views were incredible and the walk was just perfect once you got to the top. Kenyans were literally running past us, some had no water either!
Saturday night some of the girls had planned to go out clubbing in Limuru. I opted to stay in the lodge with some of the other girls and we had cake and popcorn and watched sex in the city (the only DVD we have over here), it was a great night.
On Sunday I went to the Baby Orphanage -Angels. 6 babies live here, and they are orphans because they were either dropped off without a note, left at the hospital because the mum couldn’t afford the price of giving birth (800 shillings – 8 pounds) or the product of a rape. It's heartbreaking to hear and I nearly cried a few times if I thought about it too much. As soon as we got there we were hands on - getting them up, then fed, then we bathed them - I’ve never done more than nervously held a baby before this so for me it was a crash course in babies! I absolutely loved it. I bathed three of the babies including one little girl called Joy who was crying her heart out, I think she had a fever, but not knowing anything about babies I wasn’t sure. I just did what I thought was best and took her by a window with a breeze to cool her down until she stopped crying, then dressed her. I then had to feed and clothe and play with the other babies all afternoon. It was so awesome but exhausting, by the end I had to put my head down on the play mat and fell asleep! The driver Benard picked us up but as he was driving a donkey had run in front of the van causing him to drive the van into a ditch - so we had to wait to get 7 men to literally lift the van out of the ditch!
Monday I went to Hope school, for the first time without Lisa. I came in and the kids were all sat down quietly, and the teacher said to me "I've written work into their books already so they can get started right away" - brilliant news. Then at lunchtime we had a game of duck duck goose, it's always good when you have organised games, it stops them all from jumping on you, plaiting your hair, pulling your watch off etc. In the afternoon they played with the coloured stones Lisa and I made, not sure if they totally got the hang of it but they liked to count them which is always good. As we now have chicks on site, we spend break times with the chicken feed tray on our laps, going through it and picking out the wood chippings, and sometimes little chicken poos. So that's always a nice healthy break from kids jumping on your back... That evening I went for a run, which is the first since I’ve been ill, really glad to be getting back into it.
On Tuesday Mary had gone to Limuru so it was just Esther and I, so I had to take the class by myself again. Seeing as I did such a good job last time I taught ‘chaotic colouring’ again, but this time I was a little more forceful with the naughty kids and had a lot more energy so I just about kept up with it and it didn’t turn into a nightmare like it did last time. First break we sifted the chicken feed from the chicken poos, one of my favourite tasks, then back to class where we used some worksheets I’d had printed up which let the kids trace the letters of the alphabet dot-to-dot style. They love these sheets and already I’ve seen an improvement in their abilities as a result. I asked if I could take the big class the next day, and teach them geography. I just fancied a change from colouring and thought that geography was the only thing I had to offer really. They liked the idea and said that was fine. At lunch time a sheep poked his head into the gates and loudly started to baa - the kids started baa'ing back and we had a hilarious situation for about 5 minutes where the sheep would baa, then the whole school yard would baa back in unison, cracked me up.
That afternoon I got to work on my world map. I'm pretty pleased with the result, though no-one should look too closely at Europe - the placement of some countries is laughable, and Japan looked very odd, and there were some of the 'Stan' countries missing because I couldn't be bothered to put them on, oh yeah and Africa is enormous and so is Kenya, but apart from that the map does look great I promise! I drew and coloured it sat under a tree, and there was an unfortunate incident where a bird crapped on the Philippines, and also a massive drop of water took out half of Eastern Europe, but again, apart from that it looked great!
The next day I took the map into school and they loved it! I also took what I thought was a blow up globe, thinking I could start with an explanation of the earth being round and rotating etc, but unfortunately I blew it up and it was more like an inflatable pillow. I used it anyway, mimicking a globe shape and span it round - I hope the kids don’t currently think we live on rectangular shaped planet... Then I showed them the map and told them about where they lived, and where I came from, then we talked about some big countries and which were hot and which were cold etc, they didn’t really get it but they seemed to be entertained. More chicken feed sifting, colouring and letter dot-to-dots that day, then I got picked up at 2pm an hour early, which was a nice change, so I went home, sunbathed and later took another run.
My last day at Hope school was Thursday and it was eventful! In the morning Gillian and Megan came with me to school to teach the kids fire safety (Gillian's a fire-fighter at home). We went through their first aid kit and made a note of fire hazards and planned a day next week where Gillian will teach them how to put fires out. I adapted the London's burning song so we can teach that to them to help understand, so now it goes "School is burning, school is burning, call the teacher, call the teacher, fire fire! fire fire! pour the water, pour the water." with little hand actions. I was pretty pleased with myself for thinking of this :) The girls helped out in class a bit and the kids behaved impeccably, so they were both impressed. Then at lunchtime I had brought a massive box of biscuits (no sweets as the little ones can choke on them) they all loved the biscuits and have enough for the following weeks. I also brought my ipod and docking station as I wanted to try to have a little party - the party was a massive success as the kids absolutely loved the music!! They were all dancing around and following dance movements we were doing. We started off with Paul Simon which I thought was appropriate, then put on some Rusted Root which has an African beat. Back in the UK I had mused with my friends, if you had to play one song to Africans that depicts Western music, what would it be? Of all the songs we talked about, the very last on my list was the one that they loved the most - Barbara Streisand by Duck Sauce (please don't ask me why I have this on my ipod). As it had a fast pace they LOVED it, we danced around like crazy for ages and the kids hummed along to the tune, a little girl called Joyce who is a great African dancer and smiles all the time was just loving the music - I will take that image with me forever.
On the weekend the girls and I will be going to Mombasa, another little trip we booked through African Impact. After that I will be travelling straight to Moshi to climb Kilimanjaro!! I can't wait for the Kili climb, but I also am starting to miss home. I LOVE it here but I miss my family and boyfriend, I miss English cheese and cups of tea with cold milk, I miss chocolate... I want a change of clothes and to update my ipod and to watch a film other than sex in the city... and I miss hair conditioner. But I’ll miss the girls here, I’ll miss my uninterrupted, peaceful sleeping, I’ll miss the running track and the weather, and the kids, and the variety and unpredictability of every day and I’ll miss teaching!!
Sunday 13 March 2011
Feeding programme and chicken chaos
It was the day of the fortnightly feeding programme. I had seen a few pictures and heard a bit about it from the other girls and understood that it was quite hard because you are essentially dishing out food parcels to the poor. There were loads of volunteers that day, about 11, so we could all take a food station - maize, rice, matches, oil, butter, tea, money, bread (I was on bread) bottles, beans, newspaper to light fires with, and salt. The whole thing is run by a local white Kenyan. She was very nice to us, but quite impatient at times and shouted at one woman who was late that if she was late again she'd get no food. She also got very agitated if the queue got out of shape. Kenyans aren't exactly known for their ability to queue and be on time... It was a strange event - all these incredibly poor people lined up with tickets round their necks, and then they passed down the line putting each item into their bag. Eventually everyone who had a ticket had passed through and collected their stuff, and there was a bit remaining. So we dished it out into 40 separate piles, and let 40 non-ticketed hopefuls who were outside come in and take a parcel. At the end of the second phase there was a little left over, So some of the girls were given this and told to "give it to the most deserving". Most of the volunteers weren't that keen on the feeding programme but we later learnt there was so much more to this situation than meets the eye.
We came back to Brackenhurst and had a 'reflection' session where we discussed the feeding programme at length. We were all asked our opinions on it, so I was honest and said I was a bit embarrassed to be there, a white person handing out food scraps to the poor black people. I don't think it agrees with African Impact's fundamental principles of sustainable projects so I wasn't sure why they were supporting it. They completely agreed, and we then got into a lengthy debate about what to do about it. Would pulling out and not offering a solution be better than continuing to help until we have a solution? What solutions could you suggest to the organizer who's so stuck in her ways? Does this give us an avenue into the community, after all it was through the programme that we got to know Hope school? How can you assess people's need for the food parcels, what makes them qualify and who are we to decide? And the beneficiaries have become dependent on the parcels so to change would be a massive upheaval for the community – how would they feel if instead of giving them 20 shillings to buy a cabbage we gave them cabbage seeds - grateful to be able to help themselves, or frustrated that they have no land to grow crops and have to wait months and work really hard on the land for the same result? It went on for an hour so I won't go into the details but I came out full of thought and definitely felt differently about the feeding programme afterwards.
The afternoon we went to Mukeu school for a bit of afternoon fun. I sat with Margaret, one of the clever kids I used to work with, and we found a rope so we tried some double skipping, then I tied her up in the rope and span her around much to the amusement of the other kids. We had to cut our visit short because one of the little boys David had fallen ill in the morning, and needed to be taken to hospital by us (we had taken the truck due to there being so many of us). So we left shortly and picked him up from a local clinic. Apparently he had a twisted intestine and in Kenya, that is life threatening because they don't have the ability/capacity to operate on such a thing. When we picked David up he seemed in good spirits, and was very excited to be on the bus. When the teacher asked him how he was feeling he said "sweet" - it brought a tear to my eye seeing him so happy just because he was on a bus, and knowing what he had ahead of him. I found it frustrating that the hospitals can't deal with something that in the UK wouldn't be life-threatening. I can tell you that David made it through the night and his intestines untwisted themselves and he's on the road to recovery.
That night Lisa and I painted some stones we collected. part of the syllabus for under 5s to get into primary school is to show they can 'sort and group' and they have no facilities at all at Hope school, so we thought we'd collect 3 sizes of stones, small medium and large, and paint them all different colours, so the kids could first sort by size, then by colour. The stones look great and the teacher Mary was really happy with them.
So it was back to Hope school on Thursday, and in my post chest-infection state I was hoping to take it a little bit easy today. Instead, the teacher Esther didn't turn up, so I had to take the entire class, by myself. If the lesson I was supposed to be teaching was 'chaotic colouring' then I should get some sort of award because my class excelled in that subject today. It was complete mayhem. The kids were banging the tables, some were on the tables jumping up and down, others wet themselves, lots started to cry or fight, if I could get one sat down with a picture and a colouring pencil they were quiet for a whole 2 minutes but I have 35 in my class so that was near impossible. Think of the scene in Kindergarden Cop when Arnie first takes the class and you'll get an idea of my morning.
Now I know what you're thinking, you're thinking "What Lydia could really of done with to help her in that class, in amongst the chaos and potentially dangerous situations, is not a Swahili translator, not some calming music perhaps, or even a qualified teacher. No. What she needs is a box of 400 chickens delivered." Well I can tell you that you thought correctly, as that is exactly what I was given that afternoon. The chicks were actually part of a project to give Hope school a sustainable income and I knew all about it and thought it was a great idea, but at that moment I was wondering where that crazy idea had come from. The chicks were very cute though...
The weekend i climbed Mount Longonot and went to a baby orphanage with Lisa - i'll write about that in the next entry. Lisa left on Sunday which was really sad, i don't know how i'm going to cope with Hope school by myself for a week but hey i'll soon find out...
Here are a couple of extra things that have happened in the previous weeks that I forgot to mention:
- The kids are obsessed with my 'Teenwolf' hairy arms. Mortifying.
- Have to be careful at the dinner buffet as they like to hide bananas in the food - disguised as the dish. So you think you may be getting battered fish, but in fact you may have just picked up a battered banana. Or, looks like curried potatoes - no. It's curried bananas.
- In the first week a small hurricane passed through the BOC playground. It was perfectly still air, then it got a bit windy, then a bit windier, and we just laughed and covered our eyes, then all of a sudden it got windier and then it got to the point that panic set in and we all scrambled for safety. It reminded me of the time my family let a firework off in the back garden and it fell over and shot toward me, my mum and brother. Natural instinct took over and we all tried to save ourselves but instead all three of us got stuck in the kitchen doorway. The wind was really quite terrifying, but it settled quite quickly. Later the driver told us that they get mini hurricanes through the area and that was one. Awesome.
- I found an entire separate section to our cottage, with another 20 beds, a kitchen and a living room, and in the lounge was a guitar! I had visions of me tuning the guitar and taking it into school to sing King of the Swingers to the kids, but after tuning it i realised that the neck was actually broken, lifting the strings about an inch from the stem so a beginner like me could never get a tune out of it. Shame.
- I made a huge mistake last week. I don't know what got into me but i ordered the cheese and ham sandwich. Suffice to say things haven't changed in that department and i was left bitterly disappointed...
We came back to Brackenhurst and had a 'reflection' session where we discussed the feeding programme at length. We were all asked our opinions on it, so I was honest and said I was a bit embarrassed to be there, a white person handing out food scraps to the poor black people. I don't think it agrees with African Impact's fundamental principles of sustainable projects so I wasn't sure why they were supporting it. They completely agreed, and we then got into a lengthy debate about what to do about it. Would pulling out and not offering a solution be better than continuing to help until we have a solution? What solutions could you suggest to the organizer who's so stuck in her ways? Does this give us an avenue into the community, after all it was through the programme that we got to know Hope school? How can you assess people's need for the food parcels, what makes them qualify and who are we to decide? And the beneficiaries have become dependent on the parcels so to change would be a massive upheaval for the community – how would they feel if instead of giving them 20 shillings to buy a cabbage we gave them cabbage seeds - grateful to be able to help themselves, or frustrated that they have no land to grow crops and have to wait months and work really hard on the land for the same result? It went on for an hour so I won't go into the details but I came out full of thought and definitely felt differently about the feeding programme afterwards.
The afternoon we went to Mukeu school for a bit of afternoon fun. I sat with Margaret, one of the clever kids I used to work with, and we found a rope so we tried some double skipping, then I tied her up in the rope and span her around much to the amusement of the other kids. We had to cut our visit short because one of the little boys David had fallen ill in the morning, and needed to be taken to hospital by us (we had taken the truck due to there being so many of us). So we left shortly and picked him up from a local clinic. Apparently he had a twisted intestine and in Kenya, that is life threatening because they don't have the ability/capacity to operate on such a thing. When we picked David up he seemed in good spirits, and was very excited to be on the bus. When the teacher asked him how he was feeling he said "sweet" - it brought a tear to my eye seeing him so happy just because he was on a bus, and knowing what he had ahead of him. I found it frustrating that the hospitals can't deal with something that in the UK wouldn't be life-threatening. I can tell you that David made it through the night and his intestines untwisted themselves and he's on the road to recovery.
That night Lisa and I painted some stones we collected. part of the syllabus for under 5s to get into primary school is to show they can 'sort and group' and they have no facilities at all at Hope school, so we thought we'd collect 3 sizes of stones, small medium and large, and paint them all different colours, so the kids could first sort by size, then by colour. The stones look great and the teacher Mary was really happy with them.
So it was back to Hope school on Thursday, and in my post chest-infection state I was hoping to take it a little bit easy today. Instead, the teacher Esther didn't turn up, so I had to take the entire class, by myself. If the lesson I was supposed to be teaching was 'chaotic colouring' then I should get some sort of award because my class excelled in that subject today. It was complete mayhem. The kids were banging the tables, some were on the tables jumping up and down, others wet themselves, lots started to cry or fight, if I could get one sat down with a picture and a colouring pencil they were quiet for a whole 2 minutes but I have 35 in my class so that was near impossible. Think of the scene in Kindergarden Cop when Arnie first takes the class and you'll get an idea of my morning.
Now I know what you're thinking, you're thinking "What Lydia could really of done with to help her in that class, in amongst the chaos and potentially dangerous situations, is not a Swahili translator, not some calming music perhaps, or even a qualified teacher. No. What she needs is a box of 400 chickens delivered." Well I can tell you that you thought correctly, as that is exactly what I was given that afternoon. The chicks were actually part of a project to give Hope school a sustainable income and I knew all about it and thought it was a great idea, but at that moment I was wondering where that crazy idea had come from. The chicks were very cute though...
The weekend i climbed Mount Longonot and went to a baby orphanage with Lisa - i'll write about that in the next entry. Lisa left on Sunday which was really sad, i don't know how i'm going to cope with Hope school by myself for a week but hey i'll soon find out...
Here are a couple of extra things that have happened in the previous weeks that I forgot to mention:
- The kids are obsessed with my 'Teenwolf' hairy arms. Mortifying.
- Have to be careful at the dinner buffet as they like to hide bananas in the food - disguised as the dish. So you think you may be getting battered fish, but in fact you may have just picked up a battered banana. Or, looks like curried potatoes - no. It's curried bananas.
- In the first week a small hurricane passed through the BOC playground. It was perfectly still air, then it got a bit windy, then a bit windier, and we just laughed and covered our eyes, then all of a sudden it got windier and then it got to the point that panic set in and we all scrambled for safety. It reminded me of the time my family let a firework off in the back garden and it fell over and shot toward me, my mum and brother. Natural instinct took over and we all tried to save ourselves but instead all three of us got stuck in the kitchen doorway. The wind was really quite terrifying, but it settled quite quickly. Later the driver told us that they get mini hurricanes through the area and that was one. Awesome.
- I found an entire separate section to our cottage, with another 20 beds, a kitchen and a living room, and in the lounge was a guitar! I had visions of me tuning the guitar and taking it into school to sing King of the Swingers to the kids, but after tuning it i realised that the neck was actually broken, lifting the strings about an inch from the stem so a beginner like me could never get a tune out of it. Shame.
- I made a huge mistake last week. I don't know what got into me but i ordered the cheese and ham sandwich. Suffice to say things haven't changed in that department and i was left bitterly disappointed...
Tuesday 8 March 2011
Giraffe Kissing & Recovery
In my last entry I hadn't been feeling too well after a day of painting at the BOC school. I decided not to go to Hope school on Thursday and instead I stayed in the cottage wrapped up in a duvet, eating crisps and watching films. By the time the rest of the girls got home I felt much better. On Friday we went back to BOC for more painting. As a lefty it turns out I’m terrible at painting walls and get my arm in the paint continually, so I don’t think I contributed much, but the girls did a great job of painting all the animals. In the afternoon we went back to the markets as we do every Friday, and I discovered a place that does chocolate ice-cream with chocolate sauce... amazing.
On the weekends with African Impact you're free to do what you want. They'll help you book trips around the area, you could visit more schools & projects in the area, or you can just relax in the grounds. That weekend we planned to go to Nairobi National park, the giraffe sanctuary and the elephant orphanage. We got up at 5:30 to be ready for the bus at 6. In Kenyan time, that means that the bus will come any time between 6 and 6:55, and he turned up at 6:40am.... We were all starving having had no breakfast so we were a bit grumbly on the way to the park. I decided to pack a flask of tea though so I was fine (yes i know i am a grandma).
There were 6 of us on the trip - two Canadians Megan and Gill, another Megan from the UK, Fer from Mexico, and me and Lisa, it was a really great group. When we got to the park the driver did something to the roof so it lifted right up and you could stand up and see outside. He drove us around the park looking for animals. I had my binoculars so I could see things a bit more clearly than everyone else but Fer had a great camera, so between us we got so see a lot and got some good photos. The driver however, clearly couldn't be bothered with the trip and failed to stop a number of times when we asked him too, nearly ran over an ostrich and also took speed bumps at about 30mph, and as we were all standing all the time this would send us flying. But we did think it was funny and part of the experience, we had to be quite forceful with him in the end shouting "STOP THE VAN!" etc. To begin with we saw a few distance giraffes which I got a bit over-excited about, then we saw loads and loads of close up giraffes, and then we were bored of giraffes - they were like the pigeons of the park. We also saw lions - a male and female together, and a pack of females, we saw water buffalo and zebras, ostriches and rhinos, and I was lucky enough to see a 2m water monitor which quickly scuttled off so no-one else got to see it. It was such an amazing morning.
After the national park we went to an Elephant orphanage. They bring the baby elephants in and there are hundreds of tourists there snapping away as someone gives a talk and the elephants get fed and frolic in the mud. They were adorable, and so small, most of them would come up to your waist! Then they brought out some slightly bigger elephants and the snappers snapped away again. I got a good video of one of the elephants telling off some passing warthogs which was quite amusing. It was a bit touristy for me, and I was feeling rather faint from the lack of food and heat and I did stumble over at one point, so I was glad when the girls started saying similar things and there became talk of going to get a pizza...
After the pizza lunch we felt so much better and made our way to the giraffe sanctuary. Here you climb into sort of tree houses and the giraffes stick their heads in and you can feed them. The park attendants encourage you to give the giraffes a kiss by putting the food in your mouth so the giraffes eat it right out of your lips...an experience i'll never forget! The giraffe tongues are hygienic as the saliva is a natural antiseptic, so there was no harm in doing it. It was great fun, we all had a laugh and after a bit of time and much squealing from the girls, everyone ended up doing it. The tongue feels a bit like worn sandpaper, and yes it was slobbery! But they were so unbelievable up close, i can't believe how close i've been to a giraffes face.
That was Saturday day and we got back at 5ish. We were quite tired so most went to bed early that night. The next day a few of the girls went to church with one of the teachers, but I was planning a lie-in. Unfortunately i woke up really quite unwell, as did Lisa. It seems that the illness I had in the previous week had started to take hold again and as i was coughing up new lifeforms, Lisas glands were up and she was coughing and aching.
So we couldn't go swimming which was a bit disappointing, especially for Fer who was perfectly well. All we could do is lie around in the sun and hope we got better. On Monday morning i did feel slightly better, so i went to Hope school, though i asked to be picked up at lunchtime so that i didn't completely exhaust myself. We spent the morning colouring again (surprise surprise) and had some local college students in to take notes on the class, to get tips (tips on how to create intense chaos in the smallest space possible?!) Normally I try to be really active in the class, drawing pictures, marking books, picking up the kids who fall over, spotting the ones who've wet themselves and giving them to the teacher, etc, but it just all got a bit much for me, and by the lunch break i was sat with probably 10 kids all trying to clamber on top of me, then i saw one baby walk past with his pants down and what looked like poo all over his hands, and my illness just broke me - i got up and stood round the side of the building for a few minutes trying to work out what to do, so i got my water and some Nurofen, got a stool sat in the shade and told the teacher that i was really unwell and i needed to be picked up ASAP.
They came really quickly, and took me to the doctors on site at Brackenhurst. He concluded that i've got a chest infection, and the kidney pain he couldn't explain but my god did he give me some strong painkillers for that! So i now have to take 9 pills a day, and feel like i'm floating in a cloud every time i take the painkillers! Altogether that cost me 1200 shillings, which is about 12 dollars/10 pounds.
I went to bed early Monday night and then stayed at home Tuesday. Bored, eating crisps and watching the entire series 6 of Flight of the Conchords. The day of rest and the antibiotics has sorted me out completely and now i feel like a different person, ready to take on the rest of the week...
On the weekends with African Impact you're free to do what you want. They'll help you book trips around the area, you could visit more schools & projects in the area, or you can just relax in the grounds. That weekend we planned to go to Nairobi National park, the giraffe sanctuary and the elephant orphanage. We got up at 5:30 to be ready for the bus at 6. In Kenyan time, that means that the bus will come any time between 6 and 6:55, and he turned up at 6:40am.... We were all starving having had no breakfast so we were a bit grumbly on the way to the park. I decided to pack a flask of tea though so I was fine (yes i know i am a grandma).
There were 6 of us on the trip - two Canadians Megan and Gill, another Megan from the UK, Fer from Mexico, and me and Lisa, it was a really great group. When we got to the park the driver did something to the roof so it lifted right up and you could stand up and see outside. He drove us around the park looking for animals. I had my binoculars so I could see things a bit more clearly than everyone else but Fer had a great camera, so between us we got so see a lot and got some good photos. The driver however, clearly couldn't be bothered with the trip and failed to stop a number of times when we asked him too, nearly ran over an ostrich and also took speed bumps at about 30mph, and as we were all standing all the time this would send us flying. But we did think it was funny and part of the experience, we had to be quite forceful with him in the end shouting "STOP THE VAN!" etc. To begin with we saw a few distance giraffes which I got a bit over-excited about, then we saw loads and loads of close up giraffes, and then we were bored of giraffes - they were like the pigeons of the park. We also saw lions - a male and female together, and a pack of females, we saw water buffalo and zebras, ostriches and rhinos, and I was lucky enough to see a 2m water monitor which quickly scuttled off so no-one else got to see it. It was such an amazing morning.
After the national park we went to an Elephant orphanage. They bring the baby elephants in and there are hundreds of tourists there snapping away as someone gives a talk and the elephants get fed and frolic in the mud. They were adorable, and so small, most of them would come up to your waist! Then they brought out some slightly bigger elephants and the snappers snapped away again. I got a good video of one of the elephants telling off some passing warthogs which was quite amusing. It was a bit touristy for me, and I was feeling rather faint from the lack of food and heat and I did stumble over at one point, so I was glad when the girls started saying similar things and there became talk of going to get a pizza...
After the pizza lunch we felt so much better and made our way to the giraffe sanctuary. Here you climb into sort of tree houses and the giraffes stick their heads in and you can feed them. The park attendants encourage you to give the giraffes a kiss by putting the food in your mouth so the giraffes eat it right out of your lips...an experience i'll never forget! The giraffe tongues are hygienic as the saliva is a natural antiseptic, so there was no harm in doing it. It was great fun, we all had a laugh and after a bit of time and much squealing from the girls, everyone ended up doing it. The tongue feels a bit like worn sandpaper, and yes it was slobbery! But they were so unbelievable up close, i can't believe how close i've been to a giraffes face.
That was Saturday day and we got back at 5ish. We were quite tired so most went to bed early that night. The next day a few of the girls went to church with one of the teachers, but I was planning a lie-in. Unfortunately i woke up really quite unwell, as did Lisa. It seems that the illness I had in the previous week had started to take hold again and as i was coughing up new lifeforms, Lisas glands were up and she was coughing and aching.
So we couldn't go swimming which was a bit disappointing, especially for Fer who was perfectly well. All we could do is lie around in the sun and hope we got better. On Monday morning i did feel slightly better, so i went to Hope school, though i asked to be picked up at lunchtime so that i didn't completely exhaust myself. We spent the morning colouring again (surprise surprise) and had some local college students in to take notes on the class, to get tips (tips on how to create intense chaos in the smallest space possible?!) Normally I try to be really active in the class, drawing pictures, marking books, picking up the kids who fall over, spotting the ones who've wet themselves and giving them to the teacher, etc, but it just all got a bit much for me, and by the lunch break i was sat with probably 10 kids all trying to clamber on top of me, then i saw one baby walk past with his pants down and what looked like poo all over his hands, and my illness just broke me - i got up and stood round the side of the building for a few minutes trying to work out what to do, so i got my water and some Nurofen, got a stool sat in the shade and told the teacher that i was really unwell and i needed to be picked up ASAP.
They came really quickly, and took me to the doctors on site at Brackenhurst. He concluded that i've got a chest infection, and the kidney pain he couldn't explain but my god did he give me some strong painkillers for that! So i now have to take 9 pills a day, and feel like i'm floating in a cloud every time i take the painkillers! Altogether that cost me 1200 shillings, which is about 12 dollars/10 pounds.
I went to bed early Monday night and then stayed at home Tuesday. Bored, eating crisps and watching the entire series 6 of Flight of the Conchords. The day of rest and the antibiotics has sorted me out completely and now i feel like a different person, ready to take on the rest of the week...
Thursday 3 March 2011
Powercuts, storms and animal drawings
On Friday evening after the markets, we were in Brackenhurst grounds relaxing when there was a power cut. It’s pretty dark here without any light, there are no neighbouring houses or street lamps to help guide the way, so you can’t even see your hand in front of your face. I was in the main building at the time and so packed up and made my way to the cottage, where I found all the girls huddled under duvets with candles, looking petrified. It turned out that the guard who sits outside the cottage had scared them by telling them to stay inside the building as there was an intruder in the grounds! (Brackenhurst is well protected, has a perimeter fence and armed guards outside our cottage as standard) The guard even had a bow and arrow for defence, and to quantify his story Robert had come back to the cottage after getting lost in the grounds and found himself surrounded by armed guards! It was all quite funny and after securing the windows we went to sleep with no problems. The next day the head of security casually explained that there was an opportunistic intruder who during the power cut had tried to steal some maize. This was our first blackout so it was quite a drama, but since then there have been many, to the point where I’ve taken to wearing my head torch most evenings just in case. It’s happened at dinner a couple of nights, and twice in the supermarket – seems completely normal now!
That Saturday we tried to go to the local country club which is down the road from Brackenhurst to use their swimming pool but unfortunately that particular day it was closed for cleaning so we couldn’t go. We planned to go Sunday instead, but it started to rain, and the rain didn’t stop all week… Selfishly I wanted the rain to stop so that I could get outside again, and so that the schools weren’t muddy, but really the rain was fantastic news for the area as it fills the wells, waters the crops and feeds the animals, so the week long rainstorm was a blessing.
On the weekend I’d found out that three new girls would be joining us at Mukeu school. I thought long and hard about what I wanted to get out of my time here with African Impact. There would now be so many of us at Mukeu school, and I wanted to get teaching experience which I wasn’t really getting at Mukeu school, so I decided that I should go to Hope school instead where there was currently only one volunteer. So I spoke to Charity the project coordinator, who said it was fine and arranged for me to change projects. I felt incredibly sad about leaving all the kids and teachers I’d already bonded with, but I wanted to make the most of my time here so felt it was the right decision.
Monday morning came and all the girls were back from their Safari, and I was glad to be getting back into a weekly routine. It was my first day at Hope school, and it was explained to me that I should spend the first week observing, and getting to know the teachers. What was absolutely crucial about my time in Hope school is that any changes I may want to bring about need to be channeled through Mary, so that she can keep it up once I’m gone. In the past apparently volunteers have come in and tried to change lesson structure etc, but when they leave it goes back to how it was originally. Since then volunteers have introduced things slowly, such as suggesting to Mary that they have a bit of structure to the class, so she has since always had break time and lunch at the set times of the day. The school is still very much in its infancy so I was advised to be aware that there would be a lot of things that I may see need improvements, but I should just take it very slowly to begin with.
With that in mind, I went to the school and met the teachers Esther and Mary. I was also with another volunteer and now very good friend, Lisa. It was great being together with Lisa at the school as we could take little breaks together or discuss what was going on. I was put into the youngest class with Esther –the 2-4 yr olds. It was so muddy that all their little shoes were caked in mud, so they couldn't even lift their feet, and they brought the mud into the classroom. It was pretty hard work that day, trying to integrate with the teachers, trying to get to know the kids, and dealing with the mud... I spent lunchtime sat on a chair, a child on each knee, one in between the two sitting on my lap, one on my back shouting 'stand! stand!' and another one or two completely absorbed in my watch, so my left hand being pulled from my body. If i got up, I’d take all the kids with me, so i looked like some sort of magnet lady for little kids. After reflection on my first day I felt that although the classes are chaotic, i did feel like i got to teach a little more there, so I’m pleased I made the switch. The difference is that all the kids get set the same work so I can keep up with the pace of the class easier, though I do still have to frantically write it in their books. Just like the Mukeu kids, they hurry back up to me and place their books in my laps ready to get it marked, and this goes on for hours. The little ones can only colour, so they just give me scribbled pictures, and i dutifully tick them, and then give them another picture. You have to be quite inventive after a while for the fast kids! I love it at Hope now, but my first day was the most exhausting of my life, i could hardly string a sentence together when i got home.
Don't ask me why but instead of going to sleep that night i decided to stay up and read a book until 12am. It was the most ridiculous chick lit book i've ever come across but i couldn't put it down. So i had a very restless night, and had to get up again the next day at 6:30, so i was extremely tired. The second day at Hope was much the same as the first, though with slightly less mud. Then in the afternoon, the skies opened and it rained like i've never known rain before. It also hailed, and the hailstones were so big the kids were collecting them and putting them in tupperware boxes. Bear in mind as well that i was in a tin roofed building at this point, with 60 under 6's, i found the noise, and the water pouring in the sides of the building, terrifying. i had to make sure i didn't show panic and kept a smile on the whole time, but inside i was imagining that my friends and family would all see me on the news from the view of the helicopter, clinging onto the roof of the school building. The rain did not relent but we were eventually picked up. That night, the thunderstorm was like nothing i've ever known before, no exaggeration. It was like Kenya was being bombed. The next day the driver told us that half the village were in a real panic and thought it was the ‘second coming’ - this showed me that even for Kenya this weather must be extraordinary…
On Wednesday I went to BOC school – they needed some animals drawn on the wall and lots of educational stimulus painted, so we all went to do our bit. I loved Wednesday - i drew cows, goats, monkeys, elephants, giraffes - you name it i drew it! I had felt a bit unwell that morning and as the day went on i felt worse and worse. We were picked up fairly early and taken home where i went straight to bed, as i came down with a really horrid cold, sore throat and bad chest. We all worry whilst we're out here of getting ill, especially when you spend the day with kids who cough all over you (and i'm not inoculated for TB). You do worry about Malaria too, even though there are hardly any mosquitoes in Limuru because of the altitude. But some of the other girls are also ill, which made me think it's just a cold.
My time with African Impact has just been getting better and better. I’ve made loads of really good friends now, I go to bed every night feeling really satisfied and wake up revived and really excited about the day ahead – haven’t felt like that in a long time. The next blog entry will be about the giraffe sanctuary, the feeding programme and more chaos at Hope school!!
That Saturday we tried to go to the local country club which is down the road from Brackenhurst to use their swimming pool but unfortunately that particular day it was closed for cleaning so we couldn’t go. We planned to go Sunday instead, but it started to rain, and the rain didn’t stop all week… Selfishly I wanted the rain to stop so that I could get outside again, and so that the schools weren’t muddy, but really the rain was fantastic news for the area as it fills the wells, waters the crops and feeds the animals, so the week long rainstorm was a blessing.
On the weekend I’d found out that three new girls would be joining us at Mukeu school. I thought long and hard about what I wanted to get out of my time here with African Impact. There would now be so many of us at Mukeu school, and I wanted to get teaching experience which I wasn’t really getting at Mukeu school, so I decided that I should go to Hope school instead where there was currently only one volunteer. So I spoke to Charity the project coordinator, who said it was fine and arranged for me to change projects. I felt incredibly sad about leaving all the kids and teachers I’d already bonded with, but I wanted to make the most of my time here so felt it was the right decision.
Monday morning came and all the girls were back from their Safari, and I was glad to be getting back into a weekly routine. It was my first day at Hope school, and it was explained to me that I should spend the first week observing, and getting to know the teachers. What was absolutely crucial about my time in Hope school is that any changes I may want to bring about need to be channeled through Mary, so that she can keep it up once I’m gone. In the past apparently volunteers have come in and tried to change lesson structure etc, but when they leave it goes back to how it was originally. Since then volunteers have introduced things slowly, such as suggesting to Mary that they have a bit of structure to the class, so she has since always had break time and lunch at the set times of the day. The school is still very much in its infancy so I was advised to be aware that there would be a lot of things that I may see need improvements, but I should just take it very slowly to begin with.
With that in mind, I went to the school and met the teachers Esther and Mary. I was also with another volunteer and now very good friend, Lisa. It was great being together with Lisa at the school as we could take little breaks together or discuss what was going on. I was put into the youngest class with Esther –the 2-4 yr olds. It was so muddy that all their little shoes were caked in mud, so they couldn't even lift their feet, and they brought the mud into the classroom. It was pretty hard work that day, trying to integrate with the teachers, trying to get to know the kids, and dealing with the mud... I spent lunchtime sat on a chair, a child on each knee, one in between the two sitting on my lap, one on my back shouting 'stand! stand!' and another one or two completely absorbed in my watch, so my left hand being pulled from my body. If i got up, I’d take all the kids with me, so i looked like some sort of magnet lady for little kids. After reflection on my first day I felt that although the classes are chaotic, i did feel like i got to teach a little more there, so I’m pleased I made the switch. The difference is that all the kids get set the same work so I can keep up with the pace of the class easier, though I do still have to frantically write it in their books. Just like the Mukeu kids, they hurry back up to me and place their books in my laps ready to get it marked, and this goes on for hours. The little ones can only colour, so they just give me scribbled pictures, and i dutifully tick them, and then give them another picture. You have to be quite inventive after a while for the fast kids! I love it at Hope now, but my first day was the most exhausting of my life, i could hardly string a sentence together when i got home.
Don't ask me why but instead of going to sleep that night i decided to stay up and read a book until 12am. It was the most ridiculous chick lit book i've ever come across but i couldn't put it down. So i had a very restless night, and had to get up again the next day at 6:30, so i was extremely tired. The second day at Hope was much the same as the first, though with slightly less mud. Then in the afternoon, the skies opened and it rained like i've never known rain before. It also hailed, and the hailstones were so big the kids were collecting them and putting them in tupperware boxes. Bear in mind as well that i was in a tin roofed building at this point, with 60 under 6's, i found the noise, and the water pouring in the sides of the building, terrifying. i had to make sure i didn't show panic and kept a smile on the whole time, but inside i was imagining that my friends and family would all see me on the news from the view of the helicopter, clinging onto the roof of the school building. The rain did not relent but we were eventually picked up. That night, the thunderstorm was like nothing i've ever known before, no exaggeration. It was like Kenya was being bombed. The next day the driver told us that half the village were in a real panic and thought it was the ‘second coming’ - this showed me that even for Kenya this weather must be extraordinary…
On Wednesday I went to BOC school – they needed some animals drawn on the wall and lots of educational stimulus painted, so we all went to do our bit. I loved Wednesday - i drew cows, goats, monkeys, elephants, giraffes - you name it i drew it! I had felt a bit unwell that morning and as the day went on i felt worse and worse. We were picked up fairly early and taken home where i went straight to bed, as i came down with a really horrid cold, sore throat and bad chest. We all worry whilst we're out here of getting ill, especially when you spend the day with kids who cough all over you (and i'm not inoculated for TB). You do worry about Malaria too, even though there are hardly any mosquitoes in Limuru because of the altitude. But some of the other girls are also ill, which made me think it's just a cold.
My time with African Impact has just been getting better and better. I’ve made loads of really good friends now, I go to bed every night feeling really satisfied and wake up revived and really excited about the day ahead – haven’t felt like that in a long time. The next blog entry will be about the giraffe sanctuary, the feeding programme and more chaos at Hope school!!
Friday 25 February 2011
The broken well, paint-dancing and masai markets
I left the last blog entry on Wednesday evening after the sports day and evening barbecue. Thursday came far too quickly and it was back to Mukeu for me, but today I would be going with another volunteer. I was in the junior class that day, with the ‘Giraffes’. Some of the kids could add up, some were a little further behind, so my task was to quickly assess their ability (by looking back through their text books) and set them some appropriate work. The kids soon got the hang of it and they absolutely LOVE you to mark their books, so they furiously work through their set sums then come flying back to you and plonk their books in your lap. It is quite a challenge keeping up with eight kids doing this simultaneously – obviously in the UK there would be worksheets for them to follow, and with a school for mentally disabled kids there would a much lower staff- to-child ratio, but this is just not possible at the moment for Mukeu. God knows how the teacher copes when there are no volunteers. I really admire their patience and kindness, and their energy!
That afternoon after lunch (chicken sandwich, much better), we hand-washed all their school uniforms. I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if they’re still at it now the pile was so high. All the kids chip in and scrub the clothes, even the little ones. I decided to help little Paul with the cute face. Paul has got to be maximum six years old, but I watched in astonishment as he scrubbed five shirts clean that day, even stopping now and then to show me the correct method of hand-washing. Well who else is going to wash their clothes, and without electricity they can’t use a washing machine!
During washing the bucket for the well broke, leaving us without any clean water. We all scratched our heads and looked down the well for a while, trying to think how we could fix the problem. I spoke to the teacher about the problems they face with water. He said that ideally what they could do with is a pump and tank, so that they wouldn’t need to lug a bucket of water up the well every time they need some clean water, but that pumps and tanks are expensive. This is the kind of thing that African Impact are there for – as Mukeu is not a business and has no income, the prospect of getting something like this without donations would be pretty bleak, but African Impact are running a particular donation pot for this pump and tank as it will improve the school significantly and it’s sustainable. I will now be donating all my Kilimanjaro climb donations to this fund scheme as I’ve experienced firsthand what an effort this is for them. Eventually the kids happily took buckets down to the local river and collected water there, laughing as the clumsy kids tripped and splashing and joking. It was a great afternoon.
That evening I had my first Swahili lesson. I felt right back at school as I was asked to speak and repeat phrases such as “Jima langu ni Lydia, jina lako ni nani?” (Hi my name is Lydia, what is your name?) again and again until they became ingrained on my mind forever. I have to say that the teacher was fantastic and I really enjoyed the class, I think I may continue to learn Swahili back in the UK.
On Friday most of the girls went to the Masai Mara Safari, but with a lack of funds I opted to stay, and so Robert and I went to Body of Christ School and took up painting the new orphanage. As I mentioned, there is such variety of things to do with the African Impact volunteering, and painting was a welcome mental break from the week. I plugged into my iPod and sung and danced my way through the morning listening to Vampire Weekend, Yeasayer and Silhouette Showgirls whilst painting the girl’s toilet doors blue.
In the afternoon we went to the local markets and shopping mall to pick up souvenirs, presents and any essentials we may need. In my case that was new headphones (I broke mine with vigorous paint dancing), and bras, as I completely forgot to bring any with me… well I knew I’d forget something! Robert picked up some local spices from the supermarket, and we both got loads of great gifts from the local markets. Luckily we had learnt a few do’s and don’ts in the language class which helped us get better rates, for instance, never say “Jambo” as this will brand you a tourist immediately. Instead, reply “Sijambo”, or better still, follow up with “Habari Yako?” I’d like to think this gave us a few better rates on things but when we got back Robert found that he’d paid 50 shillings more for a bowl than in the Brackenhurst gift shop! Ah well, c’est la vie!
The weekend is here so we can relax in the Brackenhurst grounds. My first week with African Impact has been absolutely incredible and I can’t wait to see what my second week has in store!
That afternoon after lunch (chicken sandwich, much better), we hand-washed all their school uniforms. I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if they’re still at it now the pile was so high. All the kids chip in and scrub the clothes, even the little ones. I decided to help little Paul with the cute face. Paul has got to be maximum six years old, but I watched in astonishment as he scrubbed five shirts clean that day, even stopping now and then to show me the correct method of hand-washing. Well who else is going to wash their clothes, and without electricity they can’t use a washing machine!
During washing the bucket for the well broke, leaving us without any clean water. We all scratched our heads and looked down the well for a while, trying to think how we could fix the problem. I spoke to the teacher about the problems they face with water. He said that ideally what they could do with is a pump and tank, so that they wouldn’t need to lug a bucket of water up the well every time they need some clean water, but that pumps and tanks are expensive. This is the kind of thing that African Impact are there for – as Mukeu is not a business and has no income, the prospect of getting something like this without donations would be pretty bleak, but African Impact are running a particular donation pot for this pump and tank as it will improve the school significantly and it’s sustainable. I will now be donating all my Kilimanjaro climb donations to this fund scheme as I’ve experienced firsthand what an effort this is for them. Eventually the kids happily took buckets down to the local river and collected water there, laughing as the clumsy kids tripped and splashing and joking. It was a great afternoon.
That evening I had my first Swahili lesson. I felt right back at school as I was asked to speak and repeat phrases such as “Jima langu ni Lydia, jina lako ni nani?” (Hi my name is Lydia, what is your name?) again and again until they became ingrained on my mind forever. I have to say that the teacher was fantastic and I really enjoyed the class, I think I may continue to learn Swahili back in the UK.
On Friday most of the girls went to the Masai Mara Safari, but with a lack of funds I opted to stay, and so Robert and I went to Body of Christ School and took up painting the new orphanage. As I mentioned, there is such variety of things to do with the African Impact volunteering, and painting was a welcome mental break from the week. I plugged into my iPod and sung and danced my way through the morning listening to Vampire Weekend, Yeasayer and Silhouette Showgirls whilst painting the girl’s toilet doors blue.
In the afternoon we went to the local markets and shopping mall to pick up souvenirs, presents and any essentials we may need. In my case that was new headphones (I broke mine with vigorous paint dancing), and bras, as I completely forgot to bring any with me… well I knew I’d forget something! Robert picked up some local spices from the supermarket, and we both got loads of great gifts from the local markets. Luckily we had learnt a few do’s and don’ts in the language class which helped us get better rates, for instance, never say “Jambo” as this will brand you a tourist immediately. Instead, reply “Sijambo”, or better still, follow up with “Habari Yako?” I’d like to think this gave us a few better rates on things but when we got back Robert found that he’d paid 50 shillings more for a bowl than in the Brackenhurst gift shop! Ah well, c’est la vie!
The weekend is here so we can relax in the Brackenhurst grounds. My first week with African Impact has been absolutely incredible and I can’t wait to see what my second week has in store!
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