A Case of Mistaken Identity

You’ve heard all our driving stories. All we can say to explain it is IT’S CRAZY. Sunday morning, I drove Connie and myself to church while the May’s took the Centre van. Her face turned pale, she wasn’t speaking, and had a death grip on the door handle. She was terrified! As we got out of the car, Connie seemed disoriented and she said she felt like she should show throw up. As we walked in, service had already started and the only seats left were down front. I completely forgot about Connie’s bad knee so I just flew down the stairs, trying to get in a seat as fast as I could without creating too much of a distraction and sat in the second row. A bit later, Connie comes limping down the isle, bypasses me and sits in the front row next to my friend Kim. So, I’m sitting there, by myself, confused as to why Connie sat next to Kim instead of me. I look at Ian and Anne across the congregation and we shrug our shoulders in confusion. Throughout the sermon, Connie patted Kim’s back and whispered the occasional comment in her ear. I was impressed at how friendly Connie was to strangers. At the end of service, Kim got up to make the church announcements like she does every week. It wasn’t until service ended and Connie stood up to find me right behind her that she did a double take at Kim and said, “Oh. I thought I was sitting next to you the whole time.” The best part about it though, is that Kim and I look NOTHING alike. We gave her a hard time about it the rest of the day. Thanks for the laugh Connie and for being a good sport.

School Dreams

We had a team here this week…Team Connie. This was her second time visiting Karibu Centre and is a devout volunteer to Orphans Overseas. When teams visit, we try to give them the true Kenyan experience whether it’s touring the slums or visiting the local markets. As a retired school teacher of 31 years, Connie wanted to visit a school. The nearest school, Umoja Primary, is located within Umoja slum and is where most kids go after they leave Karibu Centre.

the school 'kitchen'

Primary school teaches children from grades K-8. Although schooling is free, parents must buy a school uniform and lunch for their child (a huge expense for them). Their hair is buzzed short to prevent the spreading of lice. After 8^th grade, those that can afford it, pay to send their children to secondary school for the rest of their education. Unfortunately, most families can’t afford school fees so a lot of children only complete through grade 8. To go to college is a rarity that most kids only dream of doing.

After meeting with the head master, he gave us a quick tour around the campus. Four buildings are positioned in a rectangular shape creating a courtyard with trees where kids can play. There are no toys, no playground, and nothing for the kids to do outside. There were several teachers absent for various reasons that day. The head master passed us off to a classroom of 50+ 8^th graders and told us to, “Teach as long as you would like”. The children were so polite, soft spoken, and very curious. The next two hours were spent answering questions about America, politics, airplanes, earthquakes, geography, sports, and everything in between. I assume that we were the only lesson they would get that day.

As I was walking home from teaching that day, I was thinking back to my school experience as a kid and feeling like such a brat. I did fine in school but was never excited about it – pep-rallies, Math, Art, and my Architecture drafting class were the only things that interested me. I took advantage of every opportunity not to go and prayed for a snow day so school would be canceled. Free education is something these kids only dream of. Finishing secondary school is such a huge accomplishment for both children and parents in this culture. They know it’s their only hope of changing their situation, of making a new life for themselves, and their families. As if making it day to day wasn’t hard enough for them as it is…

Camel Safari

Some friends and I recently went on a safari trip to Laikipia. This area is supposedly well known for its wildlife, so we set out to camp in the bush and hopefully see something…anything.

After driving four hours North of Thika, I was introduced to something I never knew existed – elephant fences. It was like something straight out of Jurassic Park. We saw Zebra, Giraffe, Buffalo, Elephants, and Impala on our way to camp that first day. Our plan was to camp at a site the first night, look for game during the day, and camp in the bush the second night. When a staff member of the campsite asked if we were interested in a camel safari we all said no pretty quick. But as soon as he walked away, we all looked at each other, wondering if we did want to go on camel safari. We DID want a camel safari!

Early the next morning, we set out on the camels with our Masai guides. Since I was the only one that had never ridden a camel, they let me have the honors of getting on first. What they forgot to mention, was what the camel did to stand up. Their legs are triple jointed..or something. I’m still unsure. All I know is I flew back and then forward and almost fell off.

Three hours later, I waddled off the camel and arrived at our camp site for that night. We spent the remainder of the day eating good camp food, reading, swimming, and went on a walk-about looking for more game.

One thing that stands out about this trip is the sky. Blue skies as far as you could see with big, white, fluffy clouds everywhere. It looked fake – like something out of the Simpsons. When the sun set over the horizon in the evening, every color imaginable appeared in the sky until it turned pitch black. Then, constellations pop out and shooting stars fly across the sky. I feel like I spent the majority of the trip looking up.

Highlights

So Anne came up with this great idea of doing a weekly post of randomly funny/lovely/entertaining/crazy things that happen around Kenya and Karibu Centre. It seems like we always have these great stories to tell everynight at the dinner table, but they’re never long enough to write a blog about. So, here goes…

1. We’re hiring a new night security guard – a Masai warrior. Oooh, intimidating right? Well, it’s especially intimidating when he told Ian he doesn’t fear man, he can kill man. He only fears lions because they can run faster than him.

2. It’s slightly disturbing to me that sharing my room with spiders, frogs, and lizards doesn’t bother me anymore. Everyday I see something new on my floor or wall.

3. I had to pick a chicken out of a toilet one day. It literally got stuck in our toilet. Turned out to be the same chicken someone cooked us for a Christmas meal. Needless to say, we took the smallest piece possible and didn’t take second helpings.

4. There was a tractor stuck on the concrete divide barrier on the highway. How does that even happen?

5. The Lee’s came to visit the May’s last week and when they went to the market, one of the mommas pointed at Erika and said, “The fat one’s are always smart”.

6. There is a blooming tree on our compound (I think an Acacia tree) that has hundreds of butterflies on it. It is the most beautiful thing and smells wonderful.

7. Tito ran 5 1/2 miles this week. Go Tito!

8. One of our cooks, Phillis, told me she wishes she was a man so she could marry me. Apparently she liked the dress I was wearing today.

9. I recently found out that DelMonte, a local fruit plantation that our property borders, gathers waste from the slums (the slums we work in) and uses it as fertilizer for their fruit. I’m not as excited about eating their fruit after finding this out.

Unforgetable Christmas

We had a great couple of weeks leading up to the holiday – with the opening of our playground, closing ceremony for the Centre, staff Christmas party, and lunches with co-workers. Several weeks ago, we were invited by Anthony, an elder in Umoja slum, to Christmas at his house. We kindly accepted his offer, but weren’t totally thrilled with the idea of spending the day in a slum or slaughtering a goat. When Ian asked what time we should come, he told us to spend the entire day with him and his family. All day?! On Christmas?! Ian finally negotiated him down to two hours.

Christmas morning was nice. The kids opened their stockings from Santa and we enjoyed some of Ian’s homemade pancakes. I don’t know what he puts in his batter, but they are amazing! We also opened the Ego Waffle Syrup someone had sent in a package (thank you to whoever that was!). After exchanging presents and playing with them, or in Anne’s case, spending hours trying to put together a transformer, we got ready for our lunch in Umoja.

We arrived just in time for the goat slaughtering. There were four buckets. One for the meat, another for the goat’s head, hooves, horns, and tail, another bucket with the organs, and the last with remaining blood, gristle, fat, and miscellaneous body parts. I had heard stories, but I wasn’t expecting what I saw. I tried to keep a straight face because it was a huge honor that we were invited to partake in this meal. Goats are only slaughtered on very special occasions and holidays. I later found out from Anne’s pictures that I didn’t do as well on my facial expressions as I had hoped. As flies swarmed our lunch meat, Anthony stuffed the small and large intestine with the blood, gristle, and fat to make sausages. One of my first trips to the market, Anne and I ate some sausages. This whole time I never really knew exactly what I ate, until Christmas…then I put all the pieces together and wanted to throw up. Not a bit of the goat went to waste. Skin is kept to sell to tanners, meat was put on the BBQ, the kidneys and liver were turned into kabobs, stomach and intestine were filled with that blood concoction to make sausage, and the head was put in broth to make Goat Head Soup. Goat tongue is considered a delicacy here, so only the men were allowed to drink the soup. Darn!

the chicken coop where the goat was slaughtered, food cooked, and men ate

goat meat and stomach

Lucy and Eli playing with the goat's head

this was the expression on my face pretty much the whole afternoon

goat sausages

the final product - goat sausage

stomach

Kids played and ate kidney and liver while the food was being prepared. At one point, Eli had stuffed so much liver into his mouth at once, he looked like a chipmunk with puffy cheeks.

the kids playing, having a great time

When it was all done with, three hours later, we had quite the spread of food. The women ate in the house while the men were out in the chicken coop. Anne and I served our plates and filled them with as much as we could so we wouldn’t have room for goat. Shortly after we started to eat, Anthony’s wife brought over the meat tray. When we both politely declined, she told us we hadn’t tried any yet. But we did…in the rice pilau and stew! I couldn’t believe with all the other food we had eaten that she noticed we didn’t have the goat. I mean, we even went back for second helpings of rice pilau, stew, and fried cabbage. Honestly, I probably would have eaten the goat had I not seen how it was prepared.

Christmas lunch. Jealous?

Our two hour lunch turned into four. Have we learned nothing since moving here? We should have known better…we’re on Kenyan time and things just take longer. After our second helping of food, we made our exit as gracefully as possible. Anne pulled the pregnancy card and I had to help with the kids, of course. Ian took one for the team and stayed with the men. 8 hours and many unknown and undigested goat body parts later, he finally came home, laid on the carpet, and then ran to the bathroom to puke. Poor guy! I must say, I was impressed by his performance. Fear Factor has nothing on Ian May!

So this was an interesting Christmas, one I will remember for the ages. I look forward to next year though, when I hopefully spend it with my family, with cold weather, eating traditional holiday food. There’s something odd about having the option of wearing a tank top and flip flops on Christmas morning.

There are more pictures and stories posted on the May Family blog of our Kenyan Christmas. Check it out at mayfamily.wordpress.com

Our Firey Flop

My friend Amanda has this ambition of being the cool Mom that’s known for having all the best food. So until she gets a family of her own to cook for, that leaves her roommates and I to try her creations, which are usually pretty good. When she brought up making spinach artichoke dip for a Christmas party we were going to, we were excited. Amanda and I went on a mission to Nakumat for the ingredients…or the closest thing to them. As you can imagine, you can’t find everything here that you would in America. We had to improvise the recipe just a smidge and used cayenne pepper instead of cayenne pepper sauce. At the time, we thought it was a good substitution.

Two hours later, and an hour late to the Christmas party, the dip was finally finished. When we all gave it the taste test, my eyes stared watering, Amanda’s roommates started laughing and coughing, and Amanda went running for a drink of water. It was the hottest spinach artichoke dip any of us had ever tasted.

the first bite

reaction - mouths on fire

We figured it would be okay though, because we were going to a party with mainly Indians. They like spicy food, right? Well, in mid-conversation, the two women Amanda and I were talking to asked us if we had tried the dip. They said it was too hot for them to eat. At the time, I don’t think they knew we made it. So we just plaid along, agreeing that it was too hot for us too.

So, for anyone who is planning to make some spinach artichoke dip, don’t substitute cayenne pepper for cayenne pepper sauce.

Staff Christmas Party

This year has been filled with many first experiences. First time living in a foreign land, first Christmas away from family. The staff are experiencing a lot of firsts as well. We have exposed our teachers to materials they have never seen before, they have learned how to use computers, and work with crazy Americans. Well, for Orphans Overseas’ Christmas party, we introduced them to another first…bowling.

The May’s and I go to Village Market almost every week for shopping, lunch, movies, bowling, etc. It’s a pretty popular spot among the mzungus. Most of the staff had never been before, so our outing was a big deal. We told them to dress casual because they were going to be playing a game, but of course everyone came dressed in their Sunday best. Everyone was abnormally quiet on the ride into town. I could tell they were nervous. When we unloaded out of the van, we headed to the food court where people were given money to choose from a variety of restaurants serving any type of every ethnic food you could ever want. They froze. They did not know what to do and it took them an incredibly long time to decide what to order and from where. Most people went to the only African cuisine restaurant and got kuku and chips (chicken and fries), a staple in their diet. With my and Ian’s help, a few people branched out and tried new things. Those that didn’t wish they had once they sampled our food.

Naomi dancing

Then…bowling. Getting shoes, picking out a ball, and explaining the game was stressful for them. Once everyone bowled their first frame though, the mood of the entire day changed. People were dancing, laughing, and throwing the balls so hard I thought we were going to break the floor. I have never seen them so happy. Not to mention, some of them had scores that were incredibly high. Tito beat me and Ian by a long shot! I think they would have stayed longer and bowled the rest of the day if Ian would have let them.

It was a great day. I took pictures of everyone bowling throughout the day and then people wanted posed shots with their ball. Ian and Anne printed them for the staff a few days later. Their faces lit up. They thought it was the greatest present.

That’s so Kenya

There is a simplicity and slowness about Kenya that is interesting…and at times frustrating. Kenyans don’t get in a hurry for much that I’ve noticed. Their mentality is it will get done when it gets done. A task that would take an hour to do at home takes several here. You will give yourself high blood pressure if you let it get to you, so I’ve found that you may as well accept it and move along with the snail pace of things. For the most part I think I’m a patient person, but sometimes I catch myself being that typical American…wanting something done NOW.

Take for example, the Posta. Anne and I went to mail three packages for work and Christmas. In the states, there might be a long line, but there are several people working at the counter, and once you reach it, you are done relatively quick. This particular day, there was a long line with one person at the counter. Kenyans haven’t quite grasped the concept of a line or how it works yet either. People cut in line everywhere and I often feel like a five year old taddle telling that someone cutted. So Anne and I waited in line for probably 30 minutes, with people cutting in front of us, trying not to be frustrated. We reach the counter, do the paperwork, and pay. But of course she doesn’t have stamps to actually mail the package or money for our change. Both have to be found, but she’s not sure where. So we wait…wait…wait. Finally we decide to go grocery shopping and then come back. When we returned, she had our change but still no stamps. So we waited…waited…another 15 minutes later she gets stamps. There were probably 20 different sheets of stamps in five or ten shilling increments. As you can imagine, it took a while. An hour and a half later, we FINALLY left the Posta. I was wishing so badly that they had machines that automatically print the postage for them. Just another day in Kenya….on Kenyan time.

Meet Me at the Manger

I had the delight of attending Eli’s school Christmas play this week – Meet Me at the Manger. When I was invited, I had no idea what I was in for. It’s kind of a given that these types of things will be cute, but I should have known it would be even better with Eli there. This kid never ceases to amaze me. There’s never a dull moment.

Eli of course was the star of the show, not because he had speaking lines, but because he was ‘that kid’ in the performance. You know, the kid that can’t sit still and is doing inappropriate things that everyone ends up laughing at. Yeah, that was Eli. For some reason, he felt the need to do this robot move throughout the entire play, especially when there was a song on. He was really excited about it.

Eli's infamous robot move

He also felt the need to hold the boys hand sitting next to him. The kid went along with it at first but then started shaking his arm compulsively trying to loosen Eli’s grip. Eli got bored shortly after and decided, not to do the robot, but instead to play with the beads in the girls hair on the opposite side of him.

Between Eli’s performance and the really cute Christmas play, it was non-stop laughs.

Babies, and MORE babies.

There always seems to be an interesting story with every birth that takes place. If Ian isn’t taking someone to the hospital in the middle of the night, then there’s a gross hospital story, or the doctors are trying to take someone’s baby away….

Baby Ian, named after Ian May, was the second to be born at Karibu Centre from one of our vulnerable mothers who is 11 years old. When this mother finally had the baby, we were told it weighed 6kg (13.2 lbs). She certainly didn’t seem THAT pregnant, so we knew something was fishy. Then, we were told they were isolating the baby because they didn’t want the mother to feed it and gain weight. In what world does that sound even remotely correct?! Come to find out, the doctors were taking the baby from our mother because they thought she was too young to have one. They were going to tell her it had died. After our social worker and resident assistant spoke with the doctors and nurses assuring them that the baby will be well taken care of, baby Ian was returned to the mothers care…and weighing a normal 6 pounds.

Another visit to the hospital resulted in me almost throwing up. Hospitals here aren’t the most sanitary, and I was reminded when I went to pick up Milka and baby Jonas from the hospital. When I walked into the room, I noticed blood all over the floor. As I was trying not to slip and fall in it, I followed the blood trail between two beds and noticed some bodily organs. It took me a minute to realize it was in fact, a placenta. Just lying there..with flies swarming…no one else in the room seemed bothered by it. I was trying to play it cool but I guess my facial expression said all I was thinking because everyone started laughing. That’s when I turned to Milka and asked, “Is that YOUR placenta?”. Grossest thing I’ve seen to date.

So we had four baby boys, all beautiful and healthy, with proud mothers. Every time someone went to the hospital, I was secretly wishing for a girl. Baby number five was finally a girl – Doreen Mega. I laughed so hard when I saw the birth certificate. Megan is a difficult name for people here. When I introduce myself, I usually have to repeat it a few times. So, Mega is close enough to Megan for me!

Baby number six was also a girl, Lillian. We might be on a roll. Wambui went to the hospital in labor this afternoon, so we’ll have to wait and see. Ian, Anne, and I think there’s a good posibility she could have twins…

Pictures of our mothers and their babies can be found on Karibu Centre’s facebook page.