Kenya!

Greetings from Nakuru!

Thus far, Kenya has been wonderful. Overwhelming in many ways, but wonderful. This is my third full day here, and already I feel like I have experienced so much.

My first night here I was met at the airport by John Githagia, a professor from the University of Nairobi whom I met last semester at Princeton. He was kind enough to drive me across the city to a small apartment compound where Blair, a friend who graduated last year, is staying. Or more accurately, a compound where two of her fellow program-members are staying. If I had stayed with her she would have taken on a very unfavorable reputation. These friends, Micha (from Texas) and Hadare (from New Jersey), were kind enough to allow me to stay on their futon-thing for two nights. While I was in Nairobi, John helped me do a little shopping, picking up a cell phone (011 254 724 329 867 from the United States (text messages welcome)), a few Swahili texts, and a several other necessities. I also had a very enjoyable dinner at a Phoenician restaurant with Blair and Micha. I found the Nairobians I encountered to be tremendously friendly, especially once I told the I am trying to learn Swahili. I had very interesting conversations with many people, including an hour long discussion of race and religion with a security guard, and a brief introduction to Kenyan politics with a taxi driver. Things were very good.

Wednesday morning I left Nairobi in the most overwhelming (and ultimately satisfying) way imaginable. I received a phone call from Dennis Kimambo, one of my hosts in Nakuru. He said he would meet me at 9am, and gave me a location on a major road downtown. Unfortunately, he did not specify what side of the road, and before too long I found myself shuffling across 6 lanes of heavy (but NOT sluggish) traffic with my large, awkward backpack. Crossing the street here often means stepping in front of cars to stop them, and on roads with multiple lanes, waiting in the middle of rushing traffic for another opportunity to proceed. It's pretty gutsy stuff.

Anyway, I met Dennis and another member of his group, who, after the briefest introduction, herded me and my bag into a matatu (public transportation in Kenya: Imagine a hollowed out commercial van with 4 benches and 20 people inside careening down miserable roads at ridiculous speeds. Without seat belts, no less. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Matatu). The vehicle was full with other members of the Nakuru Magnet theater group, and, like any other group of 20 year old theater people, they were loud, showy, and hysterical. They were also extremely friendly, which I greatly appreciated, especially because the vast majority of their conversation was in Swahili and moving about 5 times faster than I could possibly follow.

We moved brazenly (perhaps too much so, although nothing bad came of it) through the morning traffic, arriving half an hour later at the entrance to Kibera(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kibera), Africa's largest slum (and the subject of an earlier post.) I had not expected to be here so early in my trip, and although the size of our group (to which I still felt only marginally connected) was some comfort, it was still an alarming place to be. As the matatu rumbled along increasingly difficult and narrow streets, the view from my window was appalling. Innumerable people could be seen in various states of occupation. Many men and women sat by the sides of the roads offering meager wares to passersby. There were many children, some playing in the squalid piles of garbage and filth, others in ratty uniforms on their way to school. There were also many people laying about, often seemingly oblivious to their surroundings, likely the victims of malnutrition, cholera, parasites, and of course, HIV/AIDS. The conversation of my new friends took on a more reserved tone, and before long the matatu was filled with a deafening silence, entirely out of place in the commotion of the community around us.

As we pulled into a small driveway some distance in, I was surprised to see a sign advertising "the home of young women's football in Kibera." I was even more surprised when the driveway led to a small, clean courtyard. Minutes later we were seated around a long wooden table with Fredrick Ouko, the young leader of the Kibera Community Youth Programme (http://www.kcyp.kabissa.org/ ), a rapidly developing grassroots organization that is offering hope to a growing number of Kibera's young people. The leaders of these two groups discussed (usually in English, thankfully) the work they are doing to help develop their communities, and the ways in which they can and cannot help each other. It was the greatest possible introduction to development work in Kenya. For well over an hour I heard about the history of KCYP and REPACTED (my host organization: more about them another time) and the work they do, and the ideals around which they are based. I am currently running out of time at the computer and want to move on to relate a little about my accommodations, but I intend to return and provide many more details on these groups soon.

After our meeting concluded, and after stopping by the American Embassy so that I could register my trip (never I have a seen a building more heavily secured), we set off on the 4 hour journey to Nakuru. I will spare details of the trip, but I do want to mention a few highlights. We stopped at an amazing roadside viewpoint from which one could see hundreds of square miles of the great rift valley, a scene that includes enormous mountains rising up from vast green savanna. It is actually much like the view across the American desert southwest, except with significantly more foliage. We also saw several herds of Zebra and Warthogs as we drove across the countryside, my first sightings of the "big five:" Zebra, Warthogs, Lions, Giraffes, and Elephants. Once we arrived in Nakuru I had a VERY hasty dinner meeting with a family of four, (Mother Jane, Son Charles, Daughter Sylvia, and Father whose name I cannot recall), who I soon realized would be my hosts. I was once again shuttled off by people I did not recognize, and before long the five of us were crammed into the family's car and on our way up the long and winding roads into the mountain savanna where the family resides.

I would like very much to elaborate further, but my time on the computer is very VERY nearly over, and I have to publish this or I will lose it. I will return tomorrow and explain more. My apologies for the abrupt conclusion.

Safe and Sound,
Chris

Outside one of the first restaurants I visited.