Ordered Chaos

Just another game of football, Spain v. Ghana

This past weekend was a roller coaster of experiences, ranging from awe-inspiring nature-scapes to foreign dogpile-style transportation. Our Outreach Weekend started with an unremarkable BBQ that included loud, Irish frat boys and quadruple-shot drinks. You do the math. The next morning we departed for a KCC Project, which is a school setup by volunteers to educate a sorely under-served area in Kenya. And with yet another game of (real) football, we departed for our next adventure, Hell’s Gate.

This excursion began with a leisurely bike ride along gravel and dirt roads, riding through a massive valley filled with amazing wildlife. Though there wasn’t much wildlife on the ride there, we did pass by Pride Rock, the famous rock modeled in the Lion King. It was there that we wept for Mufasa.

Canyons of Hell's Gate

The wind quickly dried our tears as we pedaled the rest of the way to Hell’s Gate. There we grabbed our water and cameras and set off on foot on the single track trails. The rock formations were absolutely gorgeous! With the canyon walls dropping deeply and narrowly into the ground, it isn’t hard to imagine how quickly and dangerously flash floods occur. After maybe an hour of meandering, we approached a 15-20 foot wall we were to scale. The nostalgia of my climbing days quickly overcame me, and upon reaching the top I realized why I miss climbing so much – because I freakin’ love it!

Scenic overlook in Hell's Gate

The ride back from Hell’s Gate was the prize of the day. Because we were nearing sundown, temperatures had cooled, and wildlife was emerging…like really emerging. As in, we had to stop our bikes to wait for crossing zebras, warthogs & impalas. We also saw giraffes and watched baboons climb the face of an enormous cliff. What an amazing experience it was to be within 30 feet of these animals, in their native habitats! The feeling was indescribable.

After a celebratory meal (and finishing the meals of those around me), we hit the hay in the Naivasha Hotel. On Saturday morning we awoke to a full breakfast of bread (which they call toast), sausages, and (of course) chai. It seems that here in Kenya, chai comes after oxygen in the list of basic human needs. But I digress…

Tents in IDP camp

From our full bellies came a sense of irony as we packed food to distribute to starving families. Our next destination would be an IDP (Internally Displaced Persons) Camp. After the 2007 elections in Kenya, violence erupted due to the opposition of the two main tribes of Kenya. Six hundred thousand families were displaced, tearing families apart and leaving them homeless. The U.N. responded by providing tents, and the Red Cross helped channel food and other resources across the country. However, their support has dwindled. Therefore, the organization Marafiki recruits volunteers from our organization to purchase and distribute food.

Little boy running with his favorite toy, an old bicycle tire

This experience was both heart wrenching and uplifting. The former is obvious – starving families of 12 living in a single tent. Nuff said. The latter, though, came through in the children’s attitudes despite their harsh living conditions.  They exhibited a form of resilience that I’ve never seen before. It was enough for me to forget about the fact that my stomach was grumbling for a late lunch. Some of these kids haven’t eaten since yesterday.

We were ealso able to help paint a new school in the IDP camp and sand the desks that would seat those very children, so eager and appreciative. I don’t think I truly understood the word “perspective” until Saturday.

Now we’re back in school and things are looking up there as well. Instead of reviewing a recent mid-term exam, I’ve been able to teach new material and it’s going very well. There are still the issues of about 90-95 kids per classroom and 35-minute class periods, but I’m trying to roll with the punches.

Our next excursion will be to the Indian Ocean in Mombasa where we hope to relax and check out some chill night life. Until then, kwaheri!

Street outside of our house.

After an inadvertent tour of Nairobi medical facilities, I’m back in the classroom getting my teach on. As you may have heard, my stomach went to battle with little Kenyan critters, and sadly lost. What started as a nauseous feeling at the end of the school day on Friday quickly turned to a need to vomit while napping by myself at home. My bathroom pursuit quickly turned downward, literally, as I got light headed, fell, and smacked the back of my head on the concrete floor. Blacked out for a second (or a few minutes…who knows), I finally came to, seemingly lost in the house. My thought to find my phone on the bed to call my housemates took me on another ride to the floor, this time smacking the front of my head on the floor. That’s where I threw in the towel, laid on the floor to wait for my housemates to return, and began to sweat like, well…like something that sweats a helluva lot.

My roommates returned from the supermarket and rushed quickly to me as I lay there a soaking mess. A cab was called, I was hauled into the car, and we drove to Shalom Hospital near Kitengela. We were greeted by hospital staff with blank stares that seemed to silently say, “We don’t see sick people here.” Though unimpressed, I desperately needed help, so they pricked my finger and that was about it. At least until some members of Fadhili Community (our organization) called and told us to go to the Nairobi Hospital.

The smile on my face contrasts the civil war in belly.

Once again, I was whisked into the cab, laid down in the back seat and tried to subdue my growing urge to vomit. The “fresh” air of car exhaust and burning rubbish outside sure didn’t do me any favors. Upon arrival at the Nairobi Hospital, I fought the cab driver’s suggestions that I stay in the car and crawled out onto the parking lot. When my British roommate, Stevie, placed a bag under my face, it seemed to serve as a cue to vomit…so I did, filling the entire bag.

The Dream Team, from left to right: House Mom Lucy, Fadhili Worker Christabel, British Roommate Stevie, Yours Truly

The rest of the story I will abbreviate – we arrived at 8pm and I wasn’t admitted until 4am. I had an IV put in that fed me fluids and a pretty nice cocktail of other house specials. All in all, I was in the hospital for just under two days with a bacterial infection. The saving grace of the colossal waiting time in the observation room was the private suite I was admitted to. The one they tried to charge me for twice. Bastards. I showed them.

Home, sweet home!

It was great to come back home on Sunday and sleep on my malformed sponge mattress whilst tangled in the spider web of a mosquito net. Even better was going back to school today, to teach the kids math and have them give us a “propuh” lesson in Kiswahili.

On our walk to school.

Happily back in school.

It’s official…I’m here! Twenty hours of travel split into three flights sure left me exhausted, but my low-energy state was nicely tempered by the warm welcome we received in Kenya. I arrived on Monday night in Nairobi from Amsterdam only to be greeted with a 40-minute line get my Visa. And, for the first time in my life, I was one of those guys whose name was on a sign, waiting to be picked up.

Child waiting for bus in Narobi

On our drive to the homestay, I got my first taste of the overwhelming poverty in Kenya. The slums we passed were undeniably real, and seeing them in person had a powerful impact. I’ve seen images like these before, but I didn’t realize the emotional filter a camera lens could place on a setting.

That being said, our homestay for that night was nice – it had running water, toilets, and our hosts kept our stomachs full of some sort of Kenyan beef stew, rice & chai. Boy do Kenyas love their Chai!

The next day, after hours and hours of orientation, we were driven to our permanent homestay, where we met Lucy, an 18 year old girl who is our house mom! She is a warm-hearted host that is eager to learn about America from me, and about England from my fellow volunteer, Stevie.

The real surprise cam yesterday when we were walked to the school and got to meet the teachers and students. The school teaches kids ranging in age from 6 to 13 years old. It was opened in 2007 as a public school to serve the needs of the growing town of Kitengela. Already they have outgrown their facilities and are in need of expansion.

Kids playingn volleyball during late morning break

The greatest difference I’ve observed in the last two days between their school and American schools is the colossal amount of play time these kids have. They take various significant breaks throughout the day for the kids to run around the field, play football (soccer), volleyball, and other high-energy games.

That is all for now, hopefully I’ll be able to update with some regularity over the coming weeks. Until next time!