Technology

Despite many Kenyans having phones and most being aware of TV and the internet even if they don't have it personally many 'everyday' appliances from back home are simply unheard of here. The house I have lived in all year is well equipped for Westerners with toaster, kettles and fridge, however items like these are very rare in other homes. 
One particularly chilly night I went out to night time bible studies with my hot water bottle under my jacket. I pulled it out to show one of my students when he asked what I was holding. I gave it to him to feel and as soon as he touched it he recoiled 'Madam! Did you put fire inside?'

A forty minute drive away is Kitale town, which has very recently been equipped with a two story supermarket with an escalator, I went there with one of my 20 year old students and knowing he would have never experienced one before I pretended I needed to go upstairs so he could have a ride. I could see the apprehension on his face but he tried to maintain calm, whispering to me 'do I walk or stand still'. I assured him he could do either but it didn't prevent the lurch and almost falling flat on his backside as he stepped on. 

On a quiet Saturday in the holidays I rounded up some of the boys to give them a driving lesson around the sports field- they had been asking for a long time and considering there wasn't many people around I figured they could give it a shot. One lad in particular was intent on maintaining eye contact with me while I was instructing, even when my instructions consisted of 'Andrew- you need to look where you are driving!' completely oblivious to where he was heading and giggling away in nervous excitement the whole time.

Sometimes, however the students surprise me with their knowledge of technology. When I had my computer and external hard drive in the library one day a student came in and pointed at it quizzically  'madam what is that?' I tried to think of a good way to explain it simply, considering most students know about USBs I decide on that 'it's like a flash drive, except a big one' I explain. My student has another look.. 'oh really?, it looks like an external hard drive!' 

Imagine being a celebrity

When I was younger I used to imagine what it would be like to be a celebrity. Imagine having more money than anyone around you. Imagine everywhere you go people recognising you and greeting you. Imagine everyone wanting to be your friend and spend time with you. Imagine people wanting your photo. Wanting to touch you. Wanting to hear you say hello to them. Crowds gathering around you just looking at you.

In Kenya I have more money than anyone around me. Everywhere I go around here people recognise me and greet me. People want to be my friend and spend time with me. People want to take my photo. Want to touch me, want me to say hello to them, want me to give them things. When in a new place, crowds gather around and stare.

What as a child sounds like the most amazing thing in the world is actually something that is really difficult to deal with in everyday life. 
Sure the hellos and the smiles and friendliness I wouldn't change for the world.  But there are other aspects that aren't so great.

Seeing so much need and being asked for things so often and yet in reality I can't always give. I want to but I know that giving can actually create more problems then it solves. Once you start randomly giving it is very difficult to stop, or to explain why you gave to some and not others. I will never have enough money to give to all the needs I see. 

For people in Kenya, muzungu = money. Muzungus carry bags, they have nice clothes, they drink out of bottles and they have cars and phones. There is constantly a niggle in the back of the mind reminding that this is one of the main reasons why I get so much attention. Even for people who I am genuinely good friends with there is an obvious difference between us.  

I think the celebrity fantasy is exactly that. It brings a great deal of responsibility and unsurity. It makes you wonder regularly if you are doing the right thing and continually ask the question 'why me',  'why not them!?'

Humans are selfish and we don't do the fundamental things that God asks of us. These problems, this unfairness that I see is not something that can be fully resolved in todays world. 
We can and we should take as many steps as we can to help out and to give. We can provide some solutions to many of the problems here.

But in reality the real lasting solution to these problems, to this unfairness will be the return of Jesus.

Rev 21:4 ' He will wipe away every tear from their eyes; and there will no longer be any death; there will no longer be any mourning, or crying, or pain; the former things have passed away". 

African Braids

I have always admired the long African braids I have seen so many girls with. It wasn't until this year that I realised that they are actually fake extensions that are plaited in.
Right from early on the kids have loved playing with my hair and are always asking me if they can plait it- I have spent the majority of the year with my hair in plaits of some description.

Quite frequently I am asked why I don't plait extensions in and so finally I succumbed to it and commissioned one of my students mothers to plait in some 'real' african braids. A number of hours later it was finally done...however my lack of appropriate care (swimming down at the coast, getting sprayed with mud and filling my hair with ceiling dust putting up mosquito nets) necessitated removal after less than a month.

I headed over to a group of girls on the weekend and asked if they wanted to help remove them. They were quick to oblige and started working straight away. Once one had finished removing a piece of the fake hair she asked me what I wanted to do with it. I didn't care about it in the slightest and said 'if you want to keep it you can keep any that you remove'.... next minute, my hair is being pulled from every direction as the girls scramble to remove it all, folding it carefully and packing it away to save for Dec 24th so they can re-use it to plait into their hair and be 'very beautiful' for Christmas.
Brand new a entire head piece costs a total of 90 cents but for a student that is pretty unachievable so they jump at the chance to take, wash and re-use my second hand ones.

Being a student...

I think the best way to really understand something is to experience it personally.

Although as a teacher I have a fair bit of insight into schooling in Kenya there are doubtless things I miss...so I decided to go to school for a day!

I chose a day in the holidays when all other classes were away except form 4 which I didn't have to teach, got myself a school uniform, loaned myself the necessary textbooks and much to the delight of the students I headed along to the form 4 class just to see what it was actually like.

Nine hours later my stomach is grumbling after only having a cup of tea and some maize and beans all day, my head is a whirl of translating skew lines to be on the same plane, the failings of King Saul, the structure
of the DNA molecule, electrolysis of copper 11 sulphate, endangered animals in Kenya and a confused headache from experiencing an hour of Kiswahili grammar (of which I understood 29 words the entire lesson- yes I kept a tally).

I am aware of the anxious rapid heartbeat you instantly get when the Chemistry teacher directs a question at you and you haven't got a clue what he is talking about. The feeling of not completely understanding the Maths teachers geometry diagram but noticing everyone else is nodding and copying it down so you feel like you are the only stupid one who doesn't get it.
The utter confusion when you don't actually understand the language the teacher is speaking in. These are feelings that the students here would experience often!

The education system here requires a lot of hard yards. Eleven subjects for two years and then narrowed down to eight for the next two years followed by 21 examinations at the end of it all. The students here are required to do a lot of memory work and have a lot of motivation to study for something they won't be assessed on officially until four years time.

I don't know how well I'd go in this education system for four years and I'm thankful that I don't have to find out.

After this day I certainly have a new found understanding and respect for all my students.

Challenges of teaching PE!

Unfortunately PE (physical education) is marginalised in Kenyan secondary schools. The focus on academics, coupled with lack of space and resources means that PE often gets neglected. 

Having studied human movement for four years I was super keen to get PE happening in this school, and had brought with me a large amount of sports supplies. Initially I was told I would have to do it during lunchtime but after a bit of negotiating and persuasion I finally managed to wangle one lesson per class per week to do Lifeskills or PE on an alternate basis.

The kids absolutely love it and get super excited when it is time for our lessons and they get a chance to get outside and do something physical. I love teaching them sports like Ultimate Frisbee, Oztag, badminton and Australian Rules rather than the traditional soccer, netball and volleyball as they have never even seen many of these sports and love learning new games.

Teaching a class of form 3s Australian Rules Football last week took an unexpected turn... As usual the kids were getting super involved, the unique and unfamiliar nature of the game was a cause of great hilarity and noise levels and excitement were high. What I hadn't factored in was the fact that form 4s were in the middle of their National Kenyan Examinations (a very big deal). I am racing around refereeing when suddenly I notice a man brandishing a large rifle on the side of the field!

Security for examinations is tight and armed guards come to ensure there is no cheating or adverse examination conditions for the candidates.

It appears my PE lesson is causing the latter.

My usual default is to do whatever men with guns tell me to do, but on the other hand I really don't want to abandon the only PE lesson with this class for the fortnight... so I decide to negotiate with gun-toting-grumpy.

He finally agrees that if we make no noise at all we can continue.

Anyone who has ever played or watched Aussie Rules with a group of novices will know this is next to impossible, however an absolute credit to my students as they are able to play the rest of the lesson in complete silence- a testimony to how keen they are for PE lessons! 

Lost

I see him standing silently at the door and I know instantly that something is up. His face looks worried and his eyes are dewey. I walk over to him and offer a hand. His voice catches as he whispers 'I'm so sorry madam'...

I instantly guess what has happened as the electrical items for the school that I sent him to the market to collect are nowhere to be seen. 

'Did you loose the money?' I gently ask. 

He doesn't seem to comprehend that I have figured it out and starts to explain... 'I ran to the market and once I had collected everything at the counter I put my hand in my pocket and...' His voice trails off and he turns away and gulps. 

He tries again 'madam, I ran back as fast as I could and I have been searching...' 

'It's okay!' I try to reassure him, 'it is ok, it was an accident, I understand'.

I find my wallet and produce the required amount again. 'Here, you can take this and quickly go back before the shop shuts' 

He stands like a statute.

'It's not ok madam! 1000 shillings is a LOT of money'

He is physically shaking and I can tell this is a really big deal. 

I sit him down and decide to explain it out, I talk about how things happen for a reason, how we can learn from this that it is important to be careful, I get him to think about whoever finds the money and how happy they will be, maybe God knew they needed the money more than we did. 

He stops shaking but is still visibly upset. 

'Madam, when you struggle and struggle to get even 50 shillings... 1000 shillings is SO much money. I have never lost anything like that amount of money before!' 

Finally after much discussion he softly says 'it is okay madam' and gets up to return for the items. 

Later on I hear him at the door again. He comes in, puts the receipt on the counter. Looks at me with sad eyes and says again 'I'm so sorry madam'.

I feel like crying. 

Not because I care about the money. 

This upsetting event, this huge loss that he, an educated, hardworking 20 year old is grappling with, that has made him not want to eat, that has caused him to run kilometers in panic and that has shaken him so badly... is $12.60.

Twelve dollars sixty. In the scheme of things it is nothing. And yet here it is SO much. 

I can't wait. Cannot wait for the time where there is no more poverty.

"Even so, Come Lord Jesus". 

Health 'not so' professionals...

I am just sitting down to dinner when a girl pokes her head in the door- 'Tabby, can I see you for a minute?' 

I am a little surprised because I am visiting an area down at the coast and hence the kids here don't know me as well (or usually have many requests). I jump up immediately and as I reach the door I hear sobbing. Instinct kicks in and I race over to the young teenager -Mwongeli- who is clearly distressed, her entire hand is completely red with blood and it is pouring down her arm. 'I'm coming back' I call out and race to grab some first aid gear. 

The story soon comes out- she fell in the dark and landed on a glass bottle and there is still a large amount of glass inside her hand. By now the muscle has seized up around the glass and try as I might I can't get it out. I bandage it quickly to stop the blood and we decide to go to the nearest health centre that has night shift doctors. 

Myself, Jeremy (a local friend) and the two girls speed along the dirt road- fortunately Jeremy is an excellent driver and despite the dodgy roads and pitch blackness we arrive safely at the centre in less than 15 minutes. 

A 'doctor' approaches us and asks what's wrong, upon hearing he turns and walks away. We decide to take a seat, Mwongeli is still sobbing softly and recalling past waits and dramas with hospital experiences I fish around in my purse and find some painkillers for her. 

The doctor returns and is behaving so erratic it is soon apparent that he (and his two colleagues) are completely drunk. 

Initially he sees the bandage and says she has already been treated and hence we have no need for him. Jeremy explains the concept of first aid and finally he takes us through to a treatment room. I try to enter with her but the doctors refuse. Screaming and yelling ensues from the room and then the door bangs open and the doctors ask me to come in to 'console' her. 

The drunk doctor is holding a wad of bloody gauze and the hole in Mwongeli's hand is gaping open as he roughly wipes it out. I quickly put my arms around her head and arm, directing her not to look, telling her she is brave and that it will hurt less if she is still. 

The doctors are now more interested in my arrival than the wound and start asking my name, where I am from, my marital status and contact details. I try to direct attention back to the injury and ask if they have removed the glass. He says they have but decides to dig around a little more regardless. Mwongeli screams and writhes. 

I ask if they are going to use anaesthetic as it is obviously agonising... they seem to see the merit in this idea and a needle is produced and rammed into her hand so hard it snaps.

By now I am loosing patience and Mwongeli is beside herself in pain. Becoming frustrated I ask if they are even real doctors and the one about to stitch gets so offended he stops working. 

After a bit of placating towards the doctors and consoling towards Mwongeli finally we get it stitched up. The doctor remarks to me 'you are so good at consoling!' I feel like saying 'wish I could say the same about your doctor skills!' but I figure it is in everyone's best interests for me to bite my tongue. 

Painkillers are arbitrarily shaken into a bag and we are out of there. 

The relief of the pain and drama being over washes over us and we are fortunately all able to see some humour in the whole situation and have a good stress releasing giggle about the whole experience. 

Sometimes the Kenyan health system is surprisingly good, but other times I am vividly reminded that I am living in a developing country. This occasion is definitely the latter!