I have repeatedly commented in my blog posts and emails that many of my experiences “remind me why I am here.” And in reading that, one might ask, “But why, Erin, must you be reminded of your purpose being in Kenya?” Well, this is because if I do not have reminders of all the positives of my life here, then the challenges would seem insurmountable. That may seem like a depressing statement, but it is not intended to be such. As my good friend and fellow Volunteer Carly put it best, “We signed up for a challenge. And that’s what we are getting!” This truly is what I want out of, not only this experience, but life; I cannot let myself forget that.
The reason I want to talk about some of my challenges here is two fold: it always helps me to talk through difficulties, and I want to paint an accurate picture of my life. The accuracy with which I illustrate my experiences is not only a reflection of the disclosure with which I want to approach keeping a blog, but also for the sake of anyone reading this who may be considering Peace Corps service. To those people, I would advise: If everything you read about Peace Corps and people’s experiences as Volunteers- the good and the bad- fuel your desire to sign up more and more, even just a little, then I say go for it! Because (and no, Peace Corps did not ask me to say this…it is free publicity) this experience truly is ‘the toughest job you’ll ever love,’ as the public relations department so accurately crafted in the organization’s tag line.
As I am settling into life in Kenya and my site, the adrenaline and novelty of this experience are wearing off. And the initial challenges I knew I would face, such as the changes in lifestyle (living situation, language, attire, gender role, etc.) are turning out to be the easiest challenges to work through. I suppose rather than minimizing those hurdles, I should acknowledge them as ‘overcome.’ But then that leaves room for new challenges to emerge…and new challenges there are!
I’ll start with the most obvious of my challenges: being white. In America, it’s not politically correct to talk about race or ethnicity. Luckily for me, though, my experiences in South Africa broke down my hesitations to talk about issues of race; so recognizing the role my skin color plays in the way people perceive me is not an entirely new concept. It is exhausting to walk down the street every day and be called, ‘Mzungu’ (white person) by screaming kids and well-meaning adults alike. It is exhausting to be approached with outstretched hands and voices saying, “Give me money” or “Give me sweets.” It is exhausting to feel like every move you make, every thing you wear, every thing you say, and every thing you do is being observed. I never realized how much I would miss the ability to just disappear into a crowd or be able to walk down the street with no one noticing I am even there.
I also never realized the significance my nationality would play in my personal identity. I never thought much about being an American. I just was. But more and more, I realize what being American really means to me, and how my upbringing in America, and more specifically in the socio-economic class I was privileged enough to experience, makes me who I am. And most importantly in realizing this identity, I am realizing that in my process to start my new life in Kenya, there is no reason for me to compromise any part of what makes me who I am. This might seem like an obvious statement, but for me it was not so clear until I started to live it.
In expressing some of my frustrations with the differences of life in Kenya from life in America with a previous Volunteer, she empowered me with the reminder that I do not need to compromise my values, my work ethic, my opinions, my cultural beliefs, and my social views to adjust to living in another country. When I first came here, I think a part of me believed that if I could adapt Kenyan ways of doing things, my life here would be easier and better. That is not entirely true. Yes, respect and tolerance for cultural differences is imperative to understanding and enjoying a society and cultural other than those of your native country. But one of the missions of Peace Corps is a two-way cultural exchange and education. And for me to uphold my end of that deal, I must stay true to myself and my Americanism. It is extremely empowering to be validated in preserving who I am and knowing that the value that my identity holds far outweighs the benefits of changing inherent characteristics to align with my surroundings.
Although this does not come close to exhausting the trials I confront in my new life here, they can hopefully contribute to painting an accurate picture of my experience. It is interesting to reflect on what I have learned to date, in summary: I should never try to change who I am…but who I am will pose inescapable challenges on a daily basis. Interesting paradox, huh?
Monday, March 30, 2009
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Corporate Global Responsibility
We have all heard of Corporate Social Responsibility (CSR). CSR, as described in an African business magazine, has three components: “a bid to obey the letter and the spirit of the law, by being ethical, transparent and fair, and having integrity; mitigating or remedying any operational harm that companies do, particularly environmental harm; for sustainable development.” This definition comes from the magazine Business Monthly: East African Edition, January 2009, reflecting the international popularity this concept has gained.
But my (albeit minimal) experience abroad begs the question: To what degree should international issues be addressed by an individual entity? In the ever-rapidly globalizing world of our time, no one can deny the need to stop looking at issues of development with an ego-centric lens. So when people refer to the obligation of organizations to be conscious to their surrounding environment – natural and social – how far does this extend? Globalization is undeniable; so should not the social responsibility of an organization span in conjunction with this phenomenon?
Furthermore, even if it is agreed that an organization’s socio-environmental responsibility lies beyond local and domestic borders, should this apply to all organizations? For instance, does a homeless shelter in San Francisco have an obligation to consider homeless people (more specifically, internally displaced persons IDP) in northern Uganda? Or does the inherit nature of the organization (i.e. assisting homeless people) render it exempt from seeking to contribute to a needy population elsewhere? Is there a ‘quota’ of social and/or global responsibility that each corporation and organization should meet – whether fulfilled locally, domestically, or abroad?
The previously-quoted article from Business Monthly discusses the concept of Corporate Philanthropy. Corporate Philanthropy is the “focus on the areas where social and economic interests intersect, and apply your distinctive corporate resources, not just your money, to solving social challenges. A company’s success comes not only from what it does but from the environment in which it operates. Unless the environment is right, the company will have a hard time being competitive. Social and economic objectives are not separate.” The subject of this article seemingly echoes a similar concept: the triple bottom line.
Organizations in the globalizing world must be conscious of the economic, social, and environmental impacts of their actions and measure their profits accordingly. Measuring an organization’s success and impact with the single bottom line- economic profit- is not sustainable. As natural resources are being depleted and the value of current socio-economic resources (such as labor, and certain skills and knowledge) is diminishing, money can no longer be the sole motivating factor considered in development.
So what becomes the drive for development? Development is ultimately intended to improve quality of life through provision of basic needs, is it not? This usually takes the form of infrastructure development, which in turn allows for economic development and hopefully opportunity for increased access to employment. Employment leads to money; money buys foods, clothes, shelter, education; food, clothes, shelter, and education improve quality of life; and the whole thing should come full circle to increased development, right?
But as this cycle (ideally) rolls forward, increasing in momentum and size, it sucks in those precious limited resources leaving a barren path in its wake. Enter the concept of sustainable development, which fits quite nicely alongside the triple bottom line and Corporate Social Responsibility (among other developmental buzz-word concepts). So then what is Corporate Global Responsibility? Initially, in my mind, it was a business’ obligation to sustainable international development. But as I hash out my own perceptions, understandings, and ideas on development, I realize this concept should be broadened. Organizational Global Responsibility? No, that sounds like it pertains too closely to order and structure. Global Responsibility of Organizations (GRO)? Yeah, that’s a little catchier. Who would have thought trying to coin a buzzword via blog post would be so tough? Regardless of how it is referenced, I strongly believe that the responsibility of sustainable international development must be valued enough for installation into the existence and workings of every organization.
This thought process can- and does- go on forever. These are just a few of the thoughts that my experiences in Kenya provoke to the forefront of my view on…well…life. It’s all food for thought – I’ve been indulging and thought I would share.
But my (albeit minimal) experience abroad begs the question: To what degree should international issues be addressed by an individual entity? In the ever-rapidly globalizing world of our time, no one can deny the need to stop looking at issues of development with an ego-centric lens. So when people refer to the obligation of organizations to be conscious to their surrounding environment – natural and social – how far does this extend? Globalization is undeniable; so should not the social responsibility of an organization span in conjunction with this phenomenon?
Furthermore, even if it is agreed that an organization’s socio-environmental responsibility lies beyond local and domestic borders, should this apply to all organizations? For instance, does a homeless shelter in San Francisco have an obligation to consider homeless people (more specifically, internally displaced persons IDP) in northern Uganda? Or does the inherit nature of the organization (i.e. assisting homeless people) render it exempt from seeking to contribute to a needy population elsewhere? Is there a ‘quota’ of social and/or global responsibility that each corporation and organization should meet – whether fulfilled locally, domestically, or abroad?
The previously-quoted article from Business Monthly discusses the concept of Corporate Philanthropy. Corporate Philanthropy is the “focus on the areas where social and economic interests intersect, and apply your distinctive corporate resources, not just your money, to solving social challenges. A company’s success comes not only from what it does but from the environment in which it operates. Unless the environment is right, the company will have a hard time being competitive. Social and economic objectives are not separate.” The subject of this article seemingly echoes a similar concept: the triple bottom line.
Organizations in the globalizing world must be conscious of the economic, social, and environmental impacts of their actions and measure their profits accordingly. Measuring an organization’s success and impact with the single bottom line- economic profit- is not sustainable. As natural resources are being depleted and the value of current socio-economic resources (such as labor, and certain skills and knowledge) is diminishing, money can no longer be the sole motivating factor considered in development.
So what becomes the drive for development? Development is ultimately intended to improve quality of life through provision of basic needs, is it not? This usually takes the form of infrastructure development, which in turn allows for economic development and hopefully opportunity for increased access to employment. Employment leads to money; money buys foods, clothes, shelter, education; food, clothes, shelter, and education improve quality of life; and the whole thing should come full circle to increased development, right?
But as this cycle (ideally) rolls forward, increasing in momentum and size, it sucks in those precious limited resources leaving a barren path in its wake. Enter the concept of sustainable development, which fits quite nicely alongside the triple bottom line and Corporate Social Responsibility (among other developmental buzz-word concepts). So then what is Corporate Global Responsibility? Initially, in my mind, it was a business’ obligation to sustainable international development. But as I hash out my own perceptions, understandings, and ideas on development, I realize this concept should be broadened. Organizational Global Responsibility? No, that sounds like it pertains too closely to order and structure. Global Responsibility of Organizations (GRO)? Yeah, that’s a little catchier. Who would have thought trying to coin a buzzword via blog post would be so tough? Regardless of how it is referenced, I strongly believe that the responsibility of sustainable international development must be valued enough for installation into the existence and workings of every organization.
This thought process can- and does- go on forever. These are just a few of the thoughts that my experiences in Kenya provoke to the forefront of my view on…well…life. It’s all food for thought – I’ve been indulging and thought I would share.
Sunday, March 8, 2009
100 Liter Water "Test"
It is 6pm and the water coming out of the tap is warm enough to take a shower with. This is the third or fourth day in just this last week’s time that the water tells the story of the scorching sun, even as it begins to set behind the trees. But this is the last time I plan to be seeing water from this tap for – hopefully – a week or longer.
This last week in my town, the publicly-owned but privately-operated (as I understand it) water company exponentially increased the cost of clean, piped water. I initially heard that costs were doubled, but some people have seen their bills go from three-hundred Kenyan shillings per month to sixteen-THOUSAND.
In lieu of the immediate water crisis, as well as to quell my self-inflicted guilt from even having piped water at all, I will be trying a new water management method this week. I have a one-hundred liter reserve tank in my house that I always try to keep nearly full for the unexpected water outages that frequently occur. Starting Monday morning, I will use no other water sources than my reserve tank…and I will count the days this supply lasts me. I intend this to be an exercise not only in water conservation, but also a reminder of the importance of conscious water consumption. Too often I find myself taking advantage of the luxury of having clean, piped water at all.
It is interesting to think about how, in America and the rest of the developed world, clean water is seen as a right more so than a luxury. And it ought to go without saying that it should be a right for every person in the world. But the reality is- clean water is an ABSENT luxury for billions of people. But I guess it can often take coming half way around the world to truly recognize the gross lack of this basic human need. Situations like these seemingly jump out of the pages of National Geographic and off of the screen airing the Travel Channel, and into my life on a daily basis. Situations like these serve – with equal weight as do my encounters with Kenyans on my morning runs – in reminding me why I am here.
This last week in my town, the publicly-owned but privately-operated (as I understand it) water company exponentially increased the cost of clean, piped water. I initially heard that costs were doubled, but some people have seen their bills go from three-hundred Kenyan shillings per month to sixteen-THOUSAND.
In lieu of the immediate water crisis, as well as to quell my self-inflicted guilt from even having piped water at all, I will be trying a new water management method this week. I have a one-hundred liter reserve tank in my house that I always try to keep nearly full for the unexpected water outages that frequently occur. Starting Monday morning, I will use no other water sources than my reserve tank…and I will count the days this supply lasts me. I intend this to be an exercise not only in water conservation, but also a reminder of the importance of conscious water consumption. Too often I find myself taking advantage of the luxury of having clean, piped water at all.
It is interesting to think about how, in America and the rest of the developed world, clean water is seen as a right more so than a luxury. And it ought to go without saying that it should be a right for every person in the world. But the reality is- clean water is an ABSENT luxury for billions of people. But I guess it can often take coming half way around the world to truly recognize the gross lack of this basic human need. Situations like these seemingly jump out of the pages of National Geographic and off of the screen airing the Travel Channel, and into my life on a daily basis. Situations like these serve – with equal weight as do my encounters with Kenyans on my morning runs – in reminding me why I am here.
Friday, February 27, 2009
Perfect Morning to End the Week With
By 8am, three separate events that could have individually each made my day happened…
As I was walking to the edge of town to begin my run, the gentleman that I always see at the fruit stand that greets me in Kikamba rode past me on his bicycle, veering across the two-lane road as he turned to greet me and confirm that I would greet him last as I passed on my run. Upon arriving at his fruit stand not more than 15 minutes later, I exchanged greetings with him and his family, explaining (in the best Kiswahili I could) that I was only running a short distance this morning but trying to go faster than I usually do. Upon sharing the traditional pole (“sorry”) when I told them Nimechoka (“I am tired”), he offered me a free packet of energy powder (glucose, basically pure sugar I think) to help me. This was such a kind gesture from someone who probably barely makes a living as it is- yet he did not hesitate to give me this gift. That was the first heart-warming event of my morning. After saying goodbye, I assured them Tutaonana tena (“We will see each other again”).
A little further up the road, on the return stretch of my run, a little bare-footed girl was starting to cross into the dirt ditch off of the paved road. I was running on the other side of the ditch along a dirt road that runs parallel to the pavement. So I stopped and tried to ask her in Kiswahili Unataka nini? Unataka mimi kupata ingine kwa wewe? (“What do you want? Do you want me to get something for you?” at least this is what I was trying to convey…). She stared at me blankly, proceeded to cross the ditch, and reached up, holding my hand as she continued on her walk to school… It absolutely made my heart melt. So I have always adored children, but this little girl- who probably owns few more clothes than the tattered school uniform she was wearing- undoubtedly won my heart over the second she grabbed my hand. She acted like it was the natural thing to do in that situation and she will never know that this simple gesture meant so much to me. Upon seeing me pause my run and begin walking with this girl, a group of school children who had been walking a little ways behind, ran to catch up and walk with us. In the few minutes we shared together before they departed at the school driveway, I learned that they were going to study their favorite subject (science) today and they also enjoy learning math. Priceless interactions.
So upon arriving back to my home, I stopped by the duka (“mini-shop”) across the street from my house where I buy milk every morning. Lately, I’ve also been purchasing my eggs from Raila, the lady who owns and runs the duka. But the past few days, she has not had any eggs; I asked her if there were eggs this morning, unfortunately hakuna mayai (“there are no eggs”). I told her I would return to buy milk after washing up from my run. About 20 minutes later, I hear a knock at my door…and it was Raila with 3 eggs! She had not only gone to get me eggs, but she even brought them to my house. I did not have enough change, so I gave her a large bill and told her I would come to her duka to get the change and purchase milk in a few minutes. Ten minutes passed and I had another knock at the door…it was Raila again with my milk and change! I could not stop smiling at these kind gestures. I told her I still wanted to buy bread, though, so we walked back to her duka together and I tried to explain that I was going to make French toast and would bring her a piece to try. I felt like it was the least I could do after she had gone out of her way, unasked, twice for me just this morning. [The other morning when she did not have eggs or milk at her shop, she walked me down to another store to purchase these things.] So after cooking up my breakfast, I took her a piece of French toast with some of my maple syrup concoction on the side for her to try. I also looked up the Kiswahili words for toast, bread, eggs, milk, cinnamon, and syrup so I could explain to her how I made it. I haven’t returned to get my dish back from her yet, so I have not heard what she thought of it, but we will see! Looks like my culinary contribution to Makindu might be something with an explicitly non-American name…how ironic is that?
As I was walking to the edge of town to begin my run, the gentleman that I always see at the fruit stand that greets me in Kikamba rode past me on his bicycle, veering across the two-lane road as he turned to greet me and confirm that I would greet him last as I passed on my run. Upon arriving at his fruit stand not more than 15 minutes later, I exchanged greetings with him and his family, explaining (in the best Kiswahili I could) that I was only running a short distance this morning but trying to go faster than I usually do. Upon sharing the traditional pole (“sorry”) when I told them Nimechoka (“I am tired”), he offered me a free packet of energy powder (glucose, basically pure sugar I think) to help me. This was such a kind gesture from someone who probably barely makes a living as it is- yet he did not hesitate to give me this gift. That was the first heart-warming event of my morning. After saying goodbye, I assured them Tutaonana tena (“We will see each other again”).
A little further up the road, on the return stretch of my run, a little bare-footed girl was starting to cross into the dirt ditch off of the paved road. I was running on the other side of the ditch along a dirt road that runs parallel to the pavement. So I stopped and tried to ask her in Kiswahili Unataka nini? Unataka mimi kupata ingine kwa wewe? (“What do you want? Do you want me to get something for you?” at least this is what I was trying to convey…). She stared at me blankly, proceeded to cross the ditch, and reached up, holding my hand as she continued on her walk to school… It absolutely made my heart melt. So I have always adored children, but this little girl- who probably owns few more clothes than the tattered school uniform she was wearing- undoubtedly won my heart over the second she grabbed my hand. She acted like it was the natural thing to do in that situation and she will never know that this simple gesture meant so much to me. Upon seeing me pause my run and begin walking with this girl, a group of school children who had been walking a little ways behind, ran to catch up and walk with us. In the few minutes we shared together before they departed at the school driveway, I learned that they were going to study their favorite subject (science) today and they also enjoy learning math. Priceless interactions.
So upon arriving back to my home, I stopped by the duka (“mini-shop”) across the street from my house where I buy milk every morning. Lately, I’ve also been purchasing my eggs from Raila, the lady who owns and runs the duka. But the past few days, she has not had any eggs; I asked her if there were eggs this morning, unfortunately hakuna mayai (“there are no eggs”). I told her I would return to buy milk after washing up from my run. About 20 minutes later, I hear a knock at my door…and it was Raila with 3 eggs! She had not only gone to get me eggs, but she even brought them to my house. I did not have enough change, so I gave her a large bill and told her I would come to her duka to get the change and purchase milk in a few minutes. Ten minutes passed and I had another knock at the door…it was Raila again with my milk and change! I could not stop smiling at these kind gestures. I told her I still wanted to buy bread, though, so we walked back to her duka together and I tried to explain that I was going to make French toast and would bring her a piece to try. I felt like it was the least I could do after she had gone out of her way, unasked, twice for me just this morning. [The other morning when she did not have eggs or milk at her shop, she walked me down to another store to purchase these things.] So after cooking up my breakfast, I took her a piece of French toast with some of my maple syrup concoction on the side for her to try. I also looked up the Kiswahili words for toast, bread, eggs, milk, cinnamon, and syrup so I could explain to her how I made it. I haven’t returned to get my dish back from her yet, so I have not heard what she thought of it, but we will see! Looks like my culinary contribution to Makindu might be something with an explicitly non-American name…how ironic is that?
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Appreciating a Language I Can't Understand
The entirety of my day was a re-affirmation of how unexplainably much I love being in Kenya and how immeasurably happy I am with life right now… Sounds intense, I know. And truth be told, I don’t necessarily expect everyone reading this to understand. But if you’ve ever had that feeling of “I would not trade what I’m doing in this moment for anything,” then you should understand the sentiment with which I write.
My morning started out with the best run I’ve had since being in Kenya. I casually invited a neighbor of mine to go running with me and he agreed to join me next time. So this morning, not only did I have a good running partner to accompany me, but he was a good coach- suggesting we go farther and faster than I usually do, and talking about how there are many different routes we can go as the training progresses. This only fueled my motivation and now I have a change of scenery in beautiful rural Kenyan to look forward to.
For breakfast I successfully tried cooking French toast…a nice taste of home. And thanks to family friends- a couple who previously served as Peace Corps Volunteer in central Africa 20 years ago- I was even able to make some maple syrup from the maple-extract gift I received before leaving the States!
Around 11am, I met up with another Volunteer and the two of us plus a Kenyan social worker took a matatu (mini-bus taxi) to a neighboring town about twenty minutes away. There we met with a group of guardians of children who have been orphaned due to AIDS. This group of guardians has successfully operated an income generating activity of raising goats and is now looking to take on a larger project with a greater return. So the other Volunteer and I were there to present to them the prospect of raising pigs. Now that I’ve set the scenario, I’ll explain how this meeting left me with the most incredible feeling of “this is why I’m here”…
Upon our arrival, we were warmly welcomed with the traditional Kikamba greetings. Kamba is the pre-dominant Kenyan ethnic group in my area of the Eastern Province, Kenya…the region I live in is even dubbed “Kambaland” or “Ukambani.” The smiles and looks on the faces of these beautiful, labor-worn older women and men when I correctly respond to their mother-tongue salutation are indescribable. In those few moments of shaking the hands of everyone sitting there and individually greeting each group member, I fall in love with this country and its people that much more. The meeting was conducted in Kikamba, with the social worker translating the English explanations of pig-rearing to the guardians. I barely understood any of it, but I could pick up on a word here and there because Kikamba is very similar to Kiswahili. But listening people speak what I consider a beautiful language, I further realized the significance of being here- to hear their problems, to have them teach me their language, to try to offer solutions to better their lives and the lives of their children, and to understand another person’s life in a way that can only be accomplished through experiencing a human connection.
I know that all sounds very corny, but it’s the best and only way I know how to try to describe this experience. Following the meeting, we waited by the road and luckily caught a matatu back to Makindu in less than fifteen minutes. I say “luckily” because last week, the other Volunteer had to wait TWO HOURS before anyone passed by to give her a ride back to town. I do not doubt that will happen to me sometime in the not-so-distant future...
My morning started out with the best run I’ve had since being in Kenya. I casually invited a neighbor of mine to go running with me and he agreed to join me next time. So this morning, not only did I have a good running partner to accompany me, but he was a good coach- suggesting we go farther and faster than I usually do, and talking about how there are many different routes we can go as the training progresses. This only fueled my motivation and now I have a change of scenery in beautiful rural Kenyan to look forward to.
For breakfast I successfully tried cooking French toast…a nice taste of home. And thanks to family friends- a couple who previously served as Peace Corps Volunteer in central Africa 20 years ago- I was even able to make some maple syrup from the maple-extract gift I received before leaving the States!
Around 11am, I met up with another Volunteer and the two of us plus a Kenyan social worker took a matatu (mini-bus taxi) to a neighboring town about twenty minutes away. There we met with a group of guardians of children who have been orphaned due to AIDS. This group of guardians has successfully operated an income generating activity of raising goats and is now looking to take on a larger project with a greater return. So the other Volunteer and I were there to present to them the prospect of raising pigs. Now that I’ve set the scenario, I’ll explain how this meeting left me with the most incredible feeling of “this is why I’m here”…
Upon our arrival, we were warmly welcomed with the traditional Kikamba greetings. Kamba is the pre-dominant Kenyan ethnic group in my area of the Eastern Province, Kenya…the region I live in is even dubbed “Kambaland” or “Ukambani.” The smiles and looks on the faces of these beautiful, labor-worn older women and men when I correctly respond to their mother-tongue salutation are indescribable. In those few moments of shaking the hands of everyone sitting there and individually greeting each group member, I fall in love with this country and its people that much more. The meeting was conducted in Kikamba, with the social worker translating the English explanations of pig-rearing to the guardians. I barely understood any of it, but I could pick up on a word here and there because Kikamba is very similar to Kiswahili. But listening people speak what I consider a beautiful language, I further realized the significance of being here- to hear their problems, to have them teach me their language, to try to offer solutions to better their lives and the lives of their children, and to understand another person’s life in a way that can only be accomplished through experiencing a human connection.
I know that all sounds very corny, but it’s the best and only way I know how to try to describe this experience. Following the meeting, we waited by the road and luckily caught a matatu back to Makindu in less than fifteen minutes. I say “luckily” because last week, the other Volunteer had to wait TWO HOURS before anyone passed by to give her a ride back to town. I do not doubt that will happen to me sometime in the not-so-distant future...
Monday, February 16, 2009
Beginning the Beautification Process...
It was a great weekend! Saturday gave me time to relax, clean my house, and read all day, which was nice. (Oh, and Happy Belated Valentine’s Day!) Sunday morning, another Volunteer and I picked up trash with about 15 students from the boarding school near my house for about 3 hours. It was a great opportunity to clean up the compound, spend some time with the kids involving them in a meaningful activity, and to talk to them about the importance of garbage collection.
It was interesting trying to explain the importance of not littering for the sake of animals’ well-being, though. How do you justify going out of your way to put a plastic bag in a pit in order to protect a random, wild animal when the majority of people could not care less about treating a dog well? We tried to find an example that would connect with the students’ lives…so I settled on goats, chicken, and cows because these animals are often kept for income generating purposes and food. I tried to explain how a chicken could accidentally eat a plastic bag and die, then how what would the students and their families eat for dinner and if they could not sell the poultry, how would they pay for school fees and such? They all nodded their head in agreement and (hopefully) understanding.
Picking up trash with the kids was also a good opportunity to dispel some myths about HIV transmission. It was made a point to clarify that HIV cannot be contracted through touching the garbage of someone who is living with HIV/AIDS. There are so many myths about HIV transmission and I hope that these few, short conversations will at least begin a dialogue between people and foster a greater understanding in hopes of gradually breaking down the stigma surrounding HIV/AIDS and furthering people’s empowerment in prevention.
It was interesting trying to explain the importance of not littering for the sake of animals’ well-being, though. How do you justify going out of your way to put a plastic bag in a pit in order to protect a random, wild animal when the majority of people could not care less about treating a dog well? We tried to find an example that would connect with the students’ lives…so I settled on goats, chicken, and cows because these animals are often kept for income generating purposes and food. I tried to explain how a chicken could accidentally eat a plastic bag and die, then how what would the students and their families eat for dinner and if they could not sell the poultry, how would they pay for school fees and such? They all nodded their head in agreement and (hopefully) understanding.
Picking up trash with the kids was also a good opportunity to dispel some myths about HIV transmission. It was made a point to clarify that HIV cannot be contracted through touching the garbage of someone who is living with HIV/AIDS. There are so many myths about HIV transmission and I hope that these few, short conversations will at least begin a dialogue between people and foster a greater understanding in hopes of gradually breaking down the stigma surrounding HIV/AIDS and furthering people’s empowerment in prevention.
Friday, February 13, 2009
First (Cliche) Post
So let me start this blog off in a very cliche manner... "My name is Erin. I am a 21 year old Peace Corps Volunteer in Kenya. This is the first time I've kept a blog." Ok, now for something a little less superficial. I've decided to start the blog for three main reasons...
(1) to keep everyone who is interested informed about my life in Kenya; hence the name of the blog, "Maisha Yangu Katika Kenya" literally means "My Life in Kenya"... really original, I know
(2) so I can have a diary of my daily events, and
(3) because journaling has always been therapeutic for me, so I figure blogging with have some of the same perks.
I will write a post that gives a better background of my current situation soon, but for now I'm going to tell a little story. This is actually what prompted me to really start writing a blog. I created a blog account yesterday with the intention of deciding in time whether to actively write posts, but this mornings' events made me realize that there are so many little situations that I want to share with people, most of which are hard to remember when I'm writing my monthly mass emails or days later when I'm writing letters home. But this blog will allow me to get these stories and experiences down not long after they've happened. Ok, so the story...
My biggest "test" of self-assurance and confidence comes at 6:30am, about four times a week. Even though people do not usually run for exercise in most parts of Kenya, I did not want to compromise this stress-relief activity that is important to me. After a week at my site, I started running laps around the soccer (football) field next to my home. As for the "test" of being secure with myself, I constantly have to remind myself not to care about how strange it must look that I'm out there...running (for no apparent reason) in circles. And I say "for no apparent reason" because I have been told on multiple occassions that when someone is seen running, people's initial reaction is that they are running from something. I have actually been asked on multiple occassions if "everything's ok" when I'm running. One time, a police officer even offered to escort me; I assured him that I was fine and continued running. So this morning, I had a realization moment (I have many of these every week, if not day; they are gentle reminders that, "yes, Erin, you are in another country"). After about 10 minutes of running, I looked up an saw a group of about 7 young men sitting on the back step of a nearby house, just watching me run. It was like they were watching a sports event, just relaxing and taking in the entertainment. One of them had even walked a little closer and was standing with a cup of coffee, just looking on. Interesting, huh? And the thing is, they weren't making me uncomfortable or bothering me in any way, but simply found it an interesting way to pass the time. So every morning that I go running, I now understand how it must feel to be a professional athlete, knowing that people are entertained enough to just watch... Well, minus the free gear from sponsors, fame and celebrity status, and often very large paycheck that allows for early retirement. I'll just have to remember to keep my "Volunteer" status in mind when day-dreaming about my cheering fans and swelling bank account.
So I hope this blog serves as a good way to keep people updated on my life, as well as to stay in touch with everyone...
Best, Erin
(1) to keep everyone who is interested informed about my life in Kenya; hence the name of the blog, "Maisha Yangu Katika Kenya" literally means "My Life in Kenya"... really original, I know
(2) so I can have a diary of my daily events, and
(3) because journaling has always been therapeutic for me, so I figure blogging with have some of the same perks.
I will write a post that gives a better background of my current situation soon, but for now I'm going to tell a little story. This is actually what prompted me to really start writing a blog. I created a blog account yesterday with the intention of deciding in time whether to actively write posts, but this mornings' events made me realize that there are so many little situations that I want to share with people, most of which are hard to remember when I'm writing my monthly mass emails or days later when I'm writing letters home. But this blog will allow me to get these stories and experiences down not long after they've happened. Ok, so the story...
My biggest "test" of self-assurance and confidence comes at 6:30am, about four times a week. Even though people do not usually run for exercise in most parts of Kenya, I did not want to compromise this stress-relief activity that is important to me. After a week at my site, I started running laps around the soccer (football) field next to my home. As for the "test" of being secure with myself, I constantly have to remind myself not to care about how strange it must look that I'm out there...running (for no apparent reason) in circles. And I say "for no apparent reason" because I have been told on multiple occassions that when someone is seen running, people's initial reaction is that they are running from something. I have actually been asked on multiple occassions if "everything's ok" when I'm running. One time, a police officer even offered to escort me; I assured him that I was fine and continued running. So this morning, I had a realization moment (I have many of these every week, if not day; they are gentle reminders that, "yes, Erin, you are in another country"). After about 10 minutes of running, I looked up an saw a group of about 7 young men sitting on the back step of a nearby house, just watching me run. It was like they were watching a sports event, just relaxing and taking in the entertainment. One of them had even walked a little closer and was standing with a cup of coffee, just looking on. Interesting, huh? And the thing is, they weren't making me uncomfortable or bothering me in any way, but simply found it an interesting way to pass the time. So every morning that I go running, I now understand how it must feel to be a professional athlete, knowing that people are entertained enough to just watch... Well, minus the free gear from sponsors, fame and celebrity status, and often very large paycheck that allows for early retirement. I'll just have to remember to keep my "Volunteer" status in mind when day-dreaming about my cheering fans and swelling bank account.
So I hope this blog serves as a good way to keep people updated on my life, as well as to stay in touch with everyone...
Best, Erin
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