Brain Download

Nairobi, Kenya- Internet Cafe

OK- Finally got around to getting everything onto disk and then onto the blog. This is really long, pretty much unedited, and yet still only about half of what is going through my head. Scary, I know. Tough start for Sox-Yanks, I hear, but that is why they play full seasons.

Day 1- Arrival at Tumaini

The exchange at Heathrow was a bit tight, but I made my flight on time and the 8 hours from London to Nairobi was not as bad as I had feared when I first got to my seat and was surrounded by screaming babies and angry parents. I slept for a good part of the flight and would have slept more if not for the man next to me deciding that 8 rum and cokes was a good idea, thus necessitating at least 8 trips to the toilet.
At Nairobi Jomo Kenyatta International Airport, the visa process was extremely easy- fill out a form, show my passport, hand over $50, and on my way to baggage reclaim. My bags also showed up quickly, and after a brief search I found my driver holding my name card. I had expected to be assailed by people trying to offer me a ride into town, but the entry hall, though crowded, was pretty subdued, perhaps because it was 6 am. The first ATM I tried failed, but otherwise I was happy to be on my way.
The ride from the airport was less reassuring. My driver was polite and rarely spoke to me, except to tell me how fortunate we were not to encounter much traffic. We rode along as the sun came up, past streams of Kenyan men walking in the other direction, where to I had no idea. We pulled off the main road and went through a few neighborhoods, and it seemed like the whole world was up walking to work, but I never figured out where work was. After a series of twists and turns leaving me totally turned around, we pulled up to a closed gate with a mural on it, indicating the Association of Sisterhood Kenya Tumaini Centre. The guard opened the gate and closed it behind the car, and both the driver and I signed in. After removing my bags and collecting his fare, the driver wished me well and drove off.
I had apparently miscalculated about the whole world being up for work, as there was no immediate sign of life inside Tumaini and little help offered by the guard. At least until I heard thin singing coming from behind a door marked chapel. A maid came along and told me to have a seat in the hallway, and eventually the service ended and several Kenyan sisters came out, along with a large group of primarily women who appeared to be Chinese. Most of them ignored me, until the last sister emerged, a squat woman who appeared to be in charge, so I asked her if I could check in with her.
She greeted me with a blank stare, so I tried to rephrase the question, adding more information about who I was, explaining that Fr. Charlton had arranged for me to stay there. None of it seemed to register with her, but she did break out the register and set about finding a room for me, and after a few more negotiations with the maid, she found me a place to sleep. She asked how long I was staying, and at that point I was almost going to tell her “not long, I hope” but I gave her my departure date, although I did not pay anything up front either.
She and the maid showed me to my quarters in what appeared to be an empty wing of the complex, and the room looked pleasant enough, with a bed, a desk, a set of drawers, and a shower and toilet complex at the end of the hall. All of that was as good as could be expected. More disappointing was signs indicating that all residents were required to be in by 9 pm every night, no exceptions, for safety reasons.
I found the breakfast room and found two tables occupied by what I later discovered was a missionary group from Hong Kong and two other tables occupied by sisters, none of whom even acknowledged my presence. There was also a table occupied by a lone white girl, so I went to sit with her and found out she was a German nursing student on a budget holiday, and she was leaving for home in two days. She was at least reasonably welcoming, but no great help in finding out where I was or what I was doing.
I asked over at the Hong Kong table if any of them knew a woman who worked at St. Aloysius and it was then that I met Stephanie, an enthusiastic, tiny Chinese woman who told me she was bringing a group to St. Al’s around 9:30, and asked if I would like to come. Unsure of what else to do or how I would get out of the room otherwise, I initially agreed, but upon returning to my room I felt very sleepy and, I will admit, pretty scared, and thought maybe my first impression at St. Al’s would not be very good right then, so I told Stephanie I would rest and unpack for the day, then join her tomorrow.
Unpacking was not too complicated, so resting is most of what I did. The bed felt comfortable and safe, while the rest of the world felt very foreign and not particularly safe or welcoming. It was undoubtedly paranoia more than anything, but it did not prevent me from sleeping a lot. Maybe the lack of sleep I had enforced on myself in Ireland was catching up with me too. Regardless, I slept for large parts of the day, skipping any sort of lunch, ate dinner quietly (a decent beef stew with elbow macaroni, salad, and fruit), and returned to bed to sleep again. My room is close to a major thoroughfare (Ngong Road), so automobile noises are a constant, but they did not prevent me from sleeping quite soundly.

Day 2- First encounter with Kibera
I woke up Tuesday morning and made a conscious effort to bring a new attitude to the day. The sun was out, so right away Nairobi seemed somewhat nicer compared to the grey day I had seen when I first arrived. I got the shower to produce hot water, so I was off to another good start. I ate breakfast again with my German friend Jana and agreed to meet Stephanie to walk to St. Al’s at 9:15 with a group of her friends from Hong Kong.
That left me a few minutes to return to my room, where I was reading when a knock came and I was told I had visitors. The visitors turned out to be Kiambi, the headmaster at St. Al’s, and Humphrey, my primary contact and the development coordinator for CLC Kenya. Their presence was unexpected, but nice, as it indicated once again that someone knew I was coming. They offered to walk me over right away, but I did not want to confuse Stephanie, so I told them I would join them shortly.
The road to Kibera involves a few turns, but it is essentially due south from Tumaini, and only about a 15 minute walk. The road first passes a fairly ordinary strip mall, then an outdoor market with dozens of stalls each selling seemingly random items, then passes through another street lined with stalls, before crossing a railroad track and descending into seemingly endless acres of tightly packed tin roof shacks, the largest sub-Saharan slum in Africa, home to nearly 1 million souls, Kibera.
I had attempted to prepare myself for the smell there, knowing that I have a bit of a weak stomach, and as a result, the strong odors did not surprise me, but they certainly had their effect on the group from Hong Kong, most of whom were covering their mouths and noses with cloths. I did not breathe it in too deeply, and I was perhaps glad to be somewhat congested, but it did not knock me out. A strong cocktail of body odor and sewage, leavened with smoke. It must be much worse in warmer weather, but it was nothing I could not tolerate.
Our group skirted around the edge of the slum and made our way to the southwest corner, along a road that circles Kibera. As we walked along, every child we encountered sang out “How are you?” to the obvious outsiders. We made our way past a large heap of garbage that had attracted a small group of goats, jumped over a small stream that appeared to be an open sewer, crossed a foot bridge where we were greeted with a hug and a “Jambo” from a rail thin grade schooler, and we were at Kiambi’s office, in a space St. Al’s shares with St. Cecilia’s primary school. The Hong Kong group dropped off their lunches in the office and went off on their way, leaving me to talk with Kiambi and Humphrey.
We sat in a small, cluttered office with concrete floors and wooden chairs. There was light coming in through the roof and there appeared to be some electricity in the building as well. I was asked to sign a visitors log, and then we got down to business. Humphrey started out by saying something about how we had left it open as to what I would be doing at St. Al’s, then essentially asked me what I wanted to do.
While that was not the opening I had hoped for, it was essentially what I expected, and it made me happy I had taken an extra day to prepare for the meeting. I began by explaining more about my background, about what I had studied in college, about an interest in education and working with young people, about my previous job, and about my impending career as a lawyer. I said I was open to all possibilities and that I hoped to help the students and the school in any way I could, and that I also wanted to get to know the people and place so that I could explain it better to people back home who might want to help in the future.
At that, the conversation picked up, and both Humphrey and Kiambi had several ideas of how I could be utilized. They first mentioned a program they conduct called Education for Life, on Monday afternoons, which deals with topics that might not be encountered in the classroom but which are important to learn. Subjects range from AIDS and drug education to personal grooming to proper conversational and interview skills. I offered that I would be happy to help, though I would not know where to begin, and they assured me I could be helpful there.
Next they seized on my college admissions background and suggested I could work with their students in helping to organize the college application process and career counseling work. The first class graduated from St. Al’s last year and is currently involved in what is called a bridging program, where the students perform community service during the week and get together on Friday’s for reflection while they wait to be admitted to college, which runs on a different term and which is not an option for many students due to costs and limited space. From the sounds of things, there is much work to be done with the graduating students, and I am going to be asked to play a role there.
Regarding my law studies, they also mentioned the law club, which meets in the afternoons as well. They apparently had a Kenyan lawyer mentor, but he has since left, and they asked me if I would be willing to meet with the students and discuss law with them. After making sure they knew the differences in American law and Kenyan law, I agreed it would be a fine idea, and they mentioned the club’s broader goal of social justice, which is very appealing to me.
Kiambi asked me if I had any interest in sports, and I told him I was very interested, leading him to smile broadly and immediately sign me up for sports duty. I did remind him that all of the kids could likely run circles around me, but that did not phase him. Thursday afternoons are sports, and I will be involved somehow.
Finally, it was suggested that I could potentially help out in English classes, and that I could otherwise be made available to provide additional one on one tutoring support for students who were struggling in a particular subject. With that, I suddenly had quite a bit on my plate, so long as everyone follows through and I work to get involved.
Our meeting lasted maybe 45 minutes, and then I was taken on a tour of the school. There is one classroom, for the 4th form (seniors) near Kiambi’s office. I later discovered all the classrooms are basically the same, with as many desks as possible packed in, a blackboard at the front, and a combination of natural light and a few exposed lightbulbs to brighten the room. There was a “lab” next door- I believe it was Humphrey who used the quotation marks, and for once I had found a high school with worse science facilities than Reiss. Not surprising, of course, but not nearly enough room to allow students to conduct their own experiments.
From there, Kiambi and Humphrey took me up the hill to the upper school, where most of the students reside. We made our way through a series of tiny alleys, all full with children who were apparently not in school, many of them likely too young, but also many of them not given the opportunity- St. Al’s could easily find 5 times more students who would like the opportunity above the 200 or so already enrolled. The walk up the hill was somewhat treacherous, scrambling over rocks and jumping over open sewers, and it was very confusing, but we made it to the upper building unscathed, and it was there I was introduced to Jill, the vice headmistress, who keeps her office there.
Her office was very dark indeed, as the electricity had gone out, and there was not much natural light to work with. She was very welcoming, and we discussed again some of the plans we had made in Kiambi’s office. We also went into more personal discussions, with me asked what I know about Kenya (embarrassingly little), some elementary Swahili to not sound like a total tourist, and then a discussion of US politics. Apparently Barack Obama has some strong support in Africa. They all were lovely to talk to, and seemed happy to have my help.
We then toured the upper school, stopping in to most of the six classrooms to introduce me to the students. A few of them had some questions for me, but they seemed a bit reticent to say much in front of their peers, a familiar phenomenon at high schools world wide. When we finished our tour, I was surprised to discover it was barely past noon, given how much I had seen and how much I had learned. Humphrey was heading back to the CLC office, and offered to take me along and allow me internet access so that I could let my poor mother know I was alive.
We took a bus along Kibera’s main drag, full of people selling all kinds of things, and not crafts, but seemingly random items that could have little use to anyone else in the area. There is clearly a story to where the goods come from, but I haven’t asked yet. The bus brought us back to Ngong Rd, and then we hopped into a matatu, the signature form of transportation in Kenya from what I can tell. Matatu’s are small vans, packed with people, driven along terrible streets but with regular routes.
Our matatu was headed west, away from Nairobi City Centre and toward the Shalom House, where CLC is located. I got online there, then Humphrey took me to a nearby shopping center to find a working ATM, and finally put me on a bus back to Tumaini. I got back around 2, went to the grocery store for some water and a snack, and retired to my room to read and nap until dinner.
Dinner was once again edible, to my delight, this time it was spaghetti with seasoned ground beef and an orange for desert. So I may not eat particularly well, but I won’t starve. I was joined at my table this time by three younger Kenyan women, probably in their late teens/early 20’s. I am not sure their story, they appear to be in training for the sisterhood, but one asked incisive questions about my chosen profession of the law, particularly curious about how one could defend a guilty man. I am not sure I gave her the best answer, but I know I have an idea for the next meeting of the St. Al’s law club. She also taught me more Swahili, which I have promptly forgotten.
I retired to my room and finished “How Soccer Explains the World” by Franklin Foer, then was asleep by 10. Kenya apparently makes me sleepy. The book is recommended if you enjoy a bit of soccer thrown in with your lessons in globalization. It was a very quick read for me.

Day 3- The Feast of St. John the Baptist
I went to Kibera with the Hong Kong delegation again today, this time all of us in a matatu, and arriving a little after 10. Tomorrow I think I will have confidence enough to walk myself. There is nothing dangerous about the route, I was just unsure of my bearings. When I arrived, I was shown to what will be my office, the counselors office that was recently vacated. They will be hiring a replacement, but for now, the space is open to me. Of course the lights weren’t working, so I moved to the library to set up. I was not given a specific assignment, rather I was just allowed to sit there and have people come to me.
My first visitor was a 3rd former named Jared, and we had a very fun conversation. He is the library prefect, so we had a brief discussion about the library, then we moved on to learning about each other. He was full of questions about the US. Probably the funniest was wanting to know if there were really robots like the Terminator. But he also wanted me to explain what was meant by a “cold” war, why the US was a superpower, whether there was an official relationship between US, Mexico, and Canada, and what the weather was like in Boston. He seemed very bright, but I also realized how far away from home I was and how young he seemed in comparison to similar aged students in the States.
Throughout the day I also had other students stop in for briefer meetings, and we discussed their favorite subjects and their career ambitions. To their credit, these students aim high, with responses typically being surgeon, lawyer, and journalist. They are proud of where they go to school and they seem to want the best from their lives.
Of course that enthusiasm was tempered by a conversation with my other visitor for the day, Ben Osaha, who works for CLC and St. Al’s in the bridging program. He was excited to meet me and to discuss the many issues confronting the students, and the reality check was quite sobering. We sat in a library with 2001 World Book encyclopedia and a few other random volumes, and of course no internet access (or even any computer). He told me that despite all best efforts, the highest mark on the KGSE from last year’s graduates was a B, which is not enough to get a place in the free public universities, and as a result 9 students had places at (expensive) private colleges and the rest had nothing.
He told me about how students had high aims, but they were simply not realistic for most of them, even with aid money coming in through CLC. He was upset that none of the graduates was interested in teaching, and that all seemed to view trades as beneath them. He longed for some students to take an interest in carpentry or welding, and he lamented the loss of jobs in the market with the information economy. We both agreed that giving students access to computers and the web would help show them other opportunities, and that a change of attitude was needed to convince them to view skilled labor as a step in the right direction.
Ben was clearly making a sales pitch to me, and it worked. He is a bright guy, a sociologist by training, and he was not afraid to say more help is needed. He is also likely to continue to show me concrete ways that money can help. His goal is entirely appropriate- he wants to create students who can be self-sufficient, not merely provide maintenance. To put it another way, he wants to teach these kids to fish.
The business climate in Kenya makes this goal especially difficult, with no tradition of corporate philanthropy, and a desire for immediate results from the recent movement of social responsibility in business. Investing in school age kids does not bear the same type of immediate fruit as investing in environmental projects, or sponsoring football academies. And even asking for help is a challenge inside Kenya, as the school is not officially certified by the government and would likely risk closure if it were inspected by education authorities, absurd as it would be.
All of that is where a new school building could go a long way toward improving the situation. According to Terry, they have now raised enough money for the project, thanks to generous grants from the US government, and they have the land, but permitting issues are holding things up. Even so, the hope is to have a new building some time in 2008, and that would be a tremendous step in the right direction.
Later in the day, I got to see the whole school community together at a special mass for the Feast of St. John the Baptist. It is unusual to celebrate a beheading, but I think they just needed a reason to have a midweek mass while the Hong Kong contingent was still there, and I know it had a great effect on them.
The readings were in English, but most of the songs were in Swahili, and I must say they do it right. The school choir was lively and entertaining, and everyone in the school joined in on most verses. Terry’s homily was brief, but it struck a note with me, simply asking how far each of us would go to stand up for our beliefs, whether we could follow in the footsteps of John the Baptist. I don’t think I am strong enough to lay down my life for an idea, but I think this trip is making me stronger.

Day 4- In which I feel useless

First I should mention dinner last night. Once again I took a nap in the afternoon before dinner, something I never do at home. Just to assuage any fears, I don’t feel sick in any way, just that I have nothing other to do besides read and write after I leave school, and I somehow get sleepy. Going out an exploring the city without someone with me and with only a few hours before dark is just not appealing to me.
In any event, I went to the dining room and was the last to arrive, and walking in there was a particularly pungent smell that made me say “uh-oh.” Anyone who knows my eating habits knows I am not a big fish eater, although I have recently become more willing to try things. In this case, however, what was on offer was a big ugly fish, staring up at me from the plate. I took some white rice, ate a banana, and dealt with everyone in the room asking what was wrong with me. My inquisitor from the night before seemed to be making fun of me, or at least getting a good laugh, so I made a quick exit back to my monastic room.
This morning I walked over to St. Al’s with Stephanie, taking a short cut through the slum to the upper school, getting me to the library by 8:30 or so. The lights in my office were not working once again, but it’s just as well, as the library is more interesting, especially when you have nothing else to do. I brought a book, so mostly I read the book, but today I did not really speak to Kiambi or Jill except in a passing hello, had a few brief conversations with teachers and students between classes, and otherwise wondered what I should be doing.
Having mostly time to myself, I set about looking around the library to see just what they had. By my count, aside from a few shelves of textbooks and 4 sets of old encyclopedias, there are around 150 books in the library, and almost none of them have much use to the students of St. Al’s. The history shelf has mostly US history, with only one slender volume on Kenyan history that I could find. The literature section runs from Maeve Binchy to James Faulkner, but with no Kenyan authors and nothing in Swahili at all. There is decent philosophy section, but I don’t think many of these kids are reading Mill, Locke, and Kant in their spare time.
In short, it was clear the library is a collection of well-intentioned but largely impractical donations from the US. I have been asked to help out with the library, among other tasks, and I don’t really know where to begin. The check-out process is predictably haphazard, but at least there is a process, and given the size of the collection I don’t see any great value in creating a card catalog- everything they have is there in front of you. Jared, the student librarian, seems eager to have my help in organizing things, but the only thing I did was alphabetize the fiction by author’s last name. If only my Gramma were here to help- she would know what to do.
My other notable event of the day was with the student head of the journalism club, who asked if I could speak to their group today after class. Apparently my credentials of writing for a student newspaper and having friends in the business were suitably impressive to them. Imagine if they knew I had a blog too? I readily agreed to the meeting only to find out it was cancelled due to the other activities this afternoon, mostly sports, for which I had no idea where to go to participate and no one stepping forward to bring me along.
So today was a disappointment, but I think it mostly pointed out a need for me to become more assertive in this situation. If I try that and fail, then I can get discouraged, but right now I think I am relying too much on others for guidance. It should also be pointed out that school is not officially in session until next week, although all of the students and most the teachers are around. So perhaps the more regimented school week will improve things too.