Harambee Jumamosi

"Mwaka wa 1963, Tulijishindia Uhuru, Bendera ya Mzungu iliteremsha, Mwafrika alianza kujitawala, Tuliambiwa 'Harambee! Harambee!'"

-Fungeni Macho by Eric Wainaina

The longer I am here, the more I find myself quoting the music of this fantastic musician Eric Wainaina. This song gives a little history of Kenya. The lyrics above translated from Kiswahili to English as: "In 1963. we won our independence, The white man's flag was brought down, Africans begun to rule themselves, we were taught to say 'Pull Together'.

Harambee, or "pull together" in Kiswahili. This word is entertwined with Kenyan history. It turned into the campaign slogan and motto of Kenya's first President Jomo Kenyatta, who encouraged Kenyans to pull together for independence from their British colonialist in the early 1960s. It seems that in the nearly sixty years since Uhuru (freedom/independence) harambee has lost its luster on many facets in this country. In a country with over forty distinct ethnic groups, all with their own languages, cultures, customs, ways of life, etc. in some cases it can be difficult to pull together to be identified as one. In Kenya, until very recently and even still now, many Kenyans identify themselves as Luo, Kikuyu, Kalenjin, or Akamba before you will here them utter "Mimi ni MKenya". Even still, with years of political exploitation and encouragement in the divides between the different ethnic groups, there is one facet in which ethnocentericm can not touch: Sports.

It is sports that unites a country together with a nationalistic fervor unlike anything else can. You can argue all you want that ultiamtely sports do not matter and are just a stupid game and completley insignificant, but as far as sporting contests go between two nations, I would completely disagree with you. I got my first taste in the greater impact of sports contest in my freshman year world politics class when I read the book "How Soccer Explains the World." This is a fantastic book that for all immediate purposes changed my life in a sense that is has influenced me towards desiring to go into the field of youth development through sports and/or cultural arts programs. This book explains how soccer has impacted specific countries all over the world: How Slobodan Milosevic incited the crazed soccer hooligans from Red Star Belgrade into becoming his death squad in Yugoslovia in the early 1990s, the book expalins how Football Club Barcelona became a rallying point for the Catalonian Bacelonans against the Castillan Spanish and their dictator Franco in the 1930s, and many other ways in which soccer becomes more than just a sport. This past Jumamosi, or Saturday, I expeirenced my own "how soccer explains the world moment" and I participated in my own Harambee.

On Saturaday, a world cup qualifier match occured here in Nairobi between the Kenyan national soccer team (the Harambee Stars), and the Tunisian team. On this day, I experieneced real Kenyan nationalism. Perhaps when a nation has mechanisms from which to be divided on, it becomes even more magicial to see a whole country together in support of something. Today these people were first and foremost Kenyan, and that is all that mattered. These fans had so much spirit, dancing around the stadium, running laps around, lighting flares, emnating different rallying cries. On this day I saw more shirts that said the word Kenya on it, more flags, more of the kenyan colours: the green for the Kenyan land, the black for the people, and the red for the blood spilled for independence, than I had any other time since my time being here. Even two hours before the game started the stadium was three-quarters full, and with a half hour before the game the whole stadium was full. Tens of thousands of fans all showing their pride, chanting, doing countless waves around the stadium. (Perhaps the wave was heard in the sky as well because on this day, during the game, the long rainy season began here in Kenya as a steady rain fell through most of the game and has been falling on and off every few hours ever since). These tens of thousands of fans were all supporting not just a soccer team of the eleven guys on the pitch, but supporting a microcosm of the way Kenya should, can, and will be; with people from the different ethnic groups all working together as one team, one nation.

As far as the game went, Kenya definately exuberated its spirit that is reflective of the nation as trying so hard to change, to become better (both as a soccer team and a nation). The Kenyan national team outplayed Tunisia on every category during the game: time of possesion, field position, shots, shots on goal, socring oppurtunities. They looked very good for most of the game, but a slip up very early on about five minutes cost Kenya the lead one nothing. They tried very hard to make it up, but missed just barely on many occasions there were only about five minutes left, when they finally equaled the score. Unfortunately that tie did not last long as they were caught up in the celebration perhaps and allowed what would be the game winning goal for Tunisia only a minute after Kenya equalized. The score ended with Tunisia winning 2-1, but Kenya looked very promising for the future.

Facing Mt. Kenya

“According to the tribal legend, we are told that in the beginning of things, when mankind started to populate the earth, the man Gikuyu, the founder of the tribe, was called by Mogai (the Divider of the Universe), and was given as his share the land with ravines, the rivers, the forests, the game and all the gifts that the Lord of Nature (Mogai) bestowed on mankind. At the same time Mogai made a big mountain which he called Kere-Nyaga (Mount Kenya), as his resting-place when on inspection tour, and as a sign of his wonders.”

From Kikuyu Creation story, found in "Facing Mt. Kenya" by Jomo Kenyatta

After reading Facing Mt. Kenya, an anthropological study of the Kikuyu ethnic group written by Jomo Kenyatta, the first President of Kenya, and also reading Unbowed, the excellent memoir written by another Kikuyu Wangari Maathai, founder of the Green Belt Movement and the 2006 Nobel Peace Laureate and the first African woman and environmentalist to win the prize, I had learned that this mountain held major importance for this ethnic group, and for Kenya itself. Traditional rites and customs were historically practiced facing this mountain, and it has taken on mythical proportions as it is covered in clouds and/or haze the majority of the time. With this mountain having so much importance for the country, I desired to see it. I did some research, and found that the town of Nanyuki offered the best views and was the closest to the mountain, and thus was my destination to see this mountain. So two of my fellow program participants, Amanda and Alexis, and I set off for Nanyuki this past weekend.

If most people were asked to describe an equatorial environment and climate, they would imagine a tropical climate with hot and sticky weather, forests and possibly even a beach. Kenya’s scenery is completely different; however, as the second tallest mountain in Africa at 17,000 ft, Mt. Kenya looms over the equator and acts as its marker. Friday afternoon we took a matatu to Nanyuki. I was very excited for the scenery en route, as I was expecting it to be much the same, but even more spectacular than the previous week’s trip to central province (see previous post). It was up to a certain point as the hilly highlands and heavily forested area of the Central Highlands was passing by my window. But then, I was surprised at how quickly the scenery changed and became flat, as the Lakipia plains unfolded in front of me. This area was mostly flat with low, dry shrubbery dotting the landscape. This was not the scenery that I was expecting as I neared the equator. The first time I saw Mt. Kenya, I was unsure that it was the mountain. It was certainly impressive, but unlike any other mountain I had ever seen. Looking out over these flatlands, I saw the gradual slope that steadily rose up until it became these two peaks that served as its crown. True to form, the peaks were shrouded by cloud-cover, so I was unsure of how tall the mountain actually was. I had never before seen a mountain so spread out, as it started miles away and culminated into the clouds.

While looking at Mt. Kenya as we were entering Nanyuki, we crossed over a sign that said equator on it. Before my eyes I had two of the three reasons why I chose Nanyuki over the other towns with views of the mountain. The third reason was the place where we were to be staying that nite, Nanyuki River Camel Camp. I was very excited to camp in authentic nomadic Somali-style huts on Friday nite. When we arrived to the camp, the sun was just sinking into darkness. Since there was no electricity at the camp, a camp worker showed us to our huts by kerosene lantern, and gave these to us so we could find our way back. These huts had tree branches that served as support beams, and very tightly woven straw that served as the walls of the hut. The door was not very big, as it only set about 3 feet off the ground, and was made of something like burlap or canvas. Inside the hut were two small beds made of very tightly woven straw. The floor was the earth, just the dirt that was underneath of my feet. The camp was created by a British expat named Chris, who worked for over twenty years in the northern part of Kenya as part of a UN “take back the desert” campaign to combat desert encroachment. He is a trained zoologist who worked alongside veterinarians with the animals from that region, including camels. I learned a lot about camels and far Northern Kenya. That area of Kenya is completely different than the rest of Kenya, full of deserts and lax law enforcement, giving it a wild-west feel. The campsite had eight huts and a central, much larger, different hut that resembled a gazebo with a fire pit and a floo that was a congregating point. Besides our group of three, there was one other group their of students/young professionals who were working at a hospital in the town of Meru, on the other side of the Mountain from where we were. These students were mostly Danish, but a German and an American were also in that group. Over the fire Chris talked of his experiences and then we discussed camel riding the next day. We suggested doing it in the early morning and agreed that we would do a short two hour ride early the next morning. By this time it was late so I grabbed my kerosene lamp and found my way to the hut to go asleep.

The next day I woke up very early because I wanted to see the sunrise over Mt. Kenya. I was told by many people that the only times that the mountain could clearly be seen were during the early morning and evening hours. This was not true as the mountain was as hazy as the nite before it, but it was still pretty seeing it as the rising sun painted it a palette of vivid blues and purples. Also unlike most perceptions of equatorial climate, when I first woke up in the morning I was cold for the first time on this trip. For the whole time that I have been here the temperatures have been in the mid-80s in the day and the low 60s at nite, but when I woke up on Saturday morning it was probably below 50 degrees, but it felt great to have this nice change. Soon enough it was time for a camel ride, which was an experience in itself. I have ridden horses, I have ridden elephants, but a camel is nothing like either one. And low and behold, they gave me the playful kid of the group of camels that was subsequently the hardest one to handle. As soon as I climbed onto the saddle the camel stood up. Camels are incredibly tall and instantly I was about ten feet up in the air. It is not a smooth climb either as they rock back and forth to stand up or sit down, so when the camel sat back down, stood up and sat back down again all in the span of about 10 minutes I felt like I was on a roller coaster with all the extreme angles I had to orient myself with. Once the camels were all calmed down and the group all settled up, we set out for our ride. Riding a camel is an interesting experience as well because of the way that they move. They move their legs according to side, so the left front and hind legs will move together, and then the right front and hind legs will move. This creates a constant swaying motion from side to side. It was a beautiful morning for a camel ride, and the scenery was pretty as well. We were in a desert setting around Nanyuki, as the long rainy season has not started yet and much of the country is suffering from a drought. So the scenery during the ride was of low, dry shrubbery in the foreground (from which the camels just stepped over), and the mountain as the backdrop. As we were riding, I encountered Massai children herding their sheep, goats, and cows, and the occasional person riding around on a motorcycle. It was truly an amazing experience getting to go camel riding in a desert setting and look at a large mountain. I felt like I was crossed between being Lawrence of Arabia and John Wayne. After about an hour and a half of riding it was time to go back to the camp, experience the rollercoaster that is getting off of a camel once more, (only once this time), and then head off towards the next adventure in our day.

This adventure involved heading to the equator. We walked a little ways outside of town where the equator sign was, and it really illustrated that Mt. Kenya was on the equator, with the angle of the sign pointing straight towards the high peaks of the mountain. On the equator we took many fun and funny pictures: Me lying on both sides, sitting down, and climbing the sign, and the girls running through the equator and jumping over it. The one trick that we absolutely had to have illustrated was the demonstration of Coriolis Effect. This is the effect that causes water to spin in a certain direction depending on if you are in the northern or southern hemisphere. They have pitchers of water set up for this experiment. We walked about 50 feet to the side that the southern hemisphere is on, poured water into a bowl, and put a stick in the water, and the floating stick started to rotate clockwise. Then, we walked to 50 feet on the northern hemisphere side and did the same thing, and the stick rotated counter-clockwise (as most of you have seen every time you flush a toilet). Then, for the climax of this experience we stood under the equator sign directly on the equator and performed the experiment. The floating stick sat idle in the water without rotating. One other thing of note that I forgot to mention that just happened to be a cool coincidence is that we were on the equator during the Spring Equinox. I learned on that day what an equinox exactly is, and that it is the day (or days because there is a fall one too) in which the amount of daylight and nite time are the exact same. And only directly on the equator during an equinox will the sun be exactly straight over head, and it just so happened that we were on the equator at noon on the spring equinox so we got to experience the highest point of the sun’s path for the entire year. It was a unique coincidence that I had no idea was occurring until we were told that.

Having done everything there was to do in Nanyuki, but not quite ready to go back yet as it was only early afternoon; we decided to do a little exploring. We found bota-botas (the motor cycle taxis in Kenya, see Kisumu post for more) and told them to take us as close to Mt. Kenya as we could possibly go without going into Mt. Kenya National Park (this national park surrounds the mountain and costs quite a bit of money to get into, which is something that we did not have nor were willing to pay for only a short time period). So the bota-botas dropped us off inside this Wildlife Preserve, and it just so happened that it also had the best views of the mountain. As well as lucking out with being on the equator during the equinox, we were extremely lucky because the mountain was in full view with no cloud cover or haze surrounding it, which for this time of day was extremely unusual but worked out in our favour. So we just hung out in this field and took more pictures and pulled crazy shenanigans with the mountain in the background. We almost forgot that this was a nature reserve, until we were soon joined off in the distance by some antelope and warthogs. We decided to explore more and walked down this dirt path in the preserve further, and on this walk we also saw llamas, baboons, and wildebeest. It was like a safari, only we were not in vehicles and unintentionally much closer to the animals than we should have been. It was still amazing to see these animals just roaming free and open to us, but did not press our luck to get any closer. After a time spent in this park we went back to town and went back.

It was truly amazing the amount of cool, unique experiences that we could have in over just a 24-hour time frame. We lived like Somali nomads in their type of huts with kerosene lanterns as lights, watched the sunrise over the 2^nd tallest mountain in Africa, rode camels, hung out on the equator during the spring equinox, and made friends with animals. When I decided that I wanted to see Mt. Kenya and planned a trip to make this happen, I had no idea that I would end up facing Mt. Kenya from a camel’s back.

Central Province Part I

This past weekend, our group took a day trip to a bird sanctuary in the Central Province in Kenya. While on the trip, staring at the spectacular scenery of the highland, mountainous region of the foothills of Mt. Kenya, and the very tall, green trees everywhere, I had a revelation. The landscape in Kenya is as diverse and reminds me a lot of the scenery in the Western part of the United States. It ranges from the desert areas and the canyons and escarpments from the Great Rift Valley, which reminds me of the New Mexico area, to the highlands with the tall green trees and the mountains, which reflect the Wyoming area.

The Central Province has historically been the most blessed region of Kenya. During the colonial period, it was known as the “white highlands”, the area where the British colonialist settled and forced the Kikuyu population that considers this area their homeland as workers on their farms. It is in this area that Kenya’s world famous tea and coffee fields are the most abundant, and it is this region that the most money has been given in Kenya’s history. The reason after this is that post Independence; there have been three Presidents of Kenya. Two of them have been Kikuyu, the first president Jomo Kenyatta, and the current one Mwai Kibaki. This area has a Kikuyu majority, and during the Kenyatta administration Kikuyus were major benefactors and recipients of land and other subsidies. I learned about this in my Politics and Culture of Kenya class, but I was actually seeing this now. The houses were much bigger in the area and made with much nicer materials than the tin shanties that I had seen in much of the rural areas in Kenya. While physically the land did not look that much different than Machakos, in Ukambani area, Western Province (see earlier post), it was very apparent that the central province has had access to much more money.

The trip to the bird sanctuary was lackluster, it was fun to go hiking in the heavily wooded area that we were in, but at the same time it was pretty uneventful. We only saw a couple birds: an owl and some sort of dove, and a peacock as we were leaving the place, but it is interesting to note the difference in economic breakdown of the different areas in Kenya. I was hoping to get to see Mt. Kenya, but we were too far away and it was a hazy day so that was not possible. Stay tuned for Part II after my hopefully pending trip to the town closest to Mt. Kenya in Central Province this coming weekend for more on the area.

Dreams of His Father’s Land: Kisumu and Kogelo

Whenever I first came to Kenya, I began to plan various trips that I wanted to take. Now, two months later, I have seen just about everything in Nairobi and felt the need to start seeing the rest of the country. One of the places to see at the top of my list was Lake Victoria. Lake Victoria is the 2nd largest freshwater lake in the world (behind Lake Superior I think), and is one of the most striking geographical features in Africa. Once I began to plan this trip, Kisumu became the best place to go because it is on the lake, and is the third largest city in Kenya. Kisumu is also in the heart of Luo-land, the third largest tribe in Kenya, and the one that holds the closest place in my heart. When we first came to Kenya, all of the people I met were Luo: my assistant program director, the cultural assistants and friends who helped teach us about Kenya, a lot of the Kenyans at my work are Luo, and our President Barack Obama is a Luo. I wanted to see this area where all these amazing people come from, and so this past weekend I did.
Just like Barack Obama made a trip to Kenya and the Lake Victoria area when he was young to discover his roots, I feel now that this trip has been the most remarkable one on so many levels, but mainly I felt as if I was able to dig deeper into the heart of Kenya and its people, and really experience this trip as a Kenyan.

I owe this to the amazing people I traveled with. Last week when I was on my rural retreat (see earlier post), the guys from the Initiative for Sports and Social Arts Kibera(One of the organizations that AU Abroad has an internship with this semester) came along, and I had an amazing time with these guys. I said I wanted to go to Kisumu soon, and one of them, Andrew, said he grew up near there and wanted to come along when I go. He also suggested that I go to Kogelo (which is about an hour away and where President Obama’s paternal Grandmother Sarah Obama lives). So I took this trip with the ISSA guys: Andrew, Tony, and OJ, and Andrew’s girlfriend. These people are absolutely amazing as Andrew, Tony, and OJ are best friends and have a lot of fun together and goof around and have the most amazing and funniest conversations. They are also a model for Kenyans, as they are three best friends from three different tribes working for the same organization for the betterment of the country. OJ is a Luo, Andrew is a Luhya (also from Lake Victoria region and neighbors with the Luo), and Tony is a Kamba (from the area we went last year on the rural retreat).

Because of a tight schedule with classes and work, my only option to Kisumu was two overnite busses, as Kisumu is a seven hour bus ride. So, thus, we left Friday nite late and arrived in Kisumu Saturday morning at around 5am. Luckily, the ISSA guys had a friend who lived in Kisumu, Anastacia (or Thetu as they call her), and we crashed with her when we got there until the morning started. She was with ISSA at the very beginning of their organization, and was the program officer for their biggest program: Mr. and Ms. Kibera, but she moved to Kisumu for a new job.) This was my first experience inside a Kenyan young professional’s home, and we used this for our home base for the trip. It was not the unlike what a single young professional would have in DC. It was a small house which would be about studio size, with a kitchen area outside the house on one side and on the other side a shower and bathroom outside the house. When we got to Thetu’s house, she served us maybe the best Kenyan chai I have ever had (that or that it was 530am), and fed us for breakfast. One thing that I have started to learn here is that Kenyans are extremely hospitable, as they will always offer you chai or food when you visit, and I am grateful for this. Once the day broke and it was a reasonable hour, we set out for our day. Walking down Kisumu, I noticed that there were more bicycles on the road than cars. These are called bota-bota, and serve as taxis in Kisumu. It’s a bicycle with a small platform behind it above the rear wheel that the passenger sits. This struck me as both different, and I liked that bicycles were utilized so much. From an environmental standpoint, it keeps pollution down, and people exercise this way too. I wish that in major US cities, or even in Nairobi, bicycles would catch on for public transport. One of the many running jokes of the trip was that you were more likely to get hit by a bike than by a car. (By the way now would be a good time to address the origin of bota-bota. The term involves the Kenyan-Ugandan border and how in the past the way to travel across the border was by bike, if you paid someone they would take you across the border, thus bota-bota.)

So we picked up a matatu, and headed out to Kogelo, Obama’s ancestral homestead to visit his grandmother. We took the matatu to the nearest town to Kogelo (an hour outside of Kenya), and had to take motor bota-botas (motorcycle taxis) the rest of the way about 15 more minutes to Kogelo. As we were going into the middle of nowhere, I had glimpses of the Lake off in the distance at certain points. We also drove past traditional Luo homesteads (round mud huts with thatched roofs), and I got excited because it seemed like this was going to be an authentic experience. The bota-bota dropped us off right outside the Obama homestead, and as we walked up, I was a little disappointed because it seemed not traditional and had just been remodeled it looked like. It also has a full time security post on the grounds from Kenyan police due to the rise of our current President. When we walked through the gate, OJ asks me “Ryan, can you believe that this moment is happening?” I hadn’t really thought about it being a big moment, but then it hit me that I am really going to meet the US President’s grandmother at her homestead in Kenya! The Kenyans were excited to, as they were brushing their hair, checking their clothes and whatnot. So when we got there the guards said that she comes out at 11am, so we had a few minutes to wait. Plastic chairs were arranged in small groups that the grandmother could walk around and greet and talk with each one. I asked OJ how to say hello in Luo so I could be ready to greet her when she came to our group. When she first waked out of hew house and over to greet the other group that was first to be talked to, one of my friends saw her first. They pointed her out and said “there’s Mama Sarah”. She is just this simple elderly Kenyan woman, wearing a traditional looking green dress with a red cloth wrapped around her head (as you see many Kenyans wearing), and walked with a cane. She reminded me a lot of my own Grandmother, who is similarly elderly, still walks on her own and lives on her own, and is still going strong. The parallels with my own Grandmother continued as through the course of our conversation, Sarah Obama gave off this very unassuming, down to earth vibe, as well as her mind is also extremely sharp, and my grandma is the same way. After a few minutes of visiting with another group, she came over to receive her visitors… us. We all first introduced ourselves, saying our name and greeting her… (I said hello to her in Luo, but cannot remember the word at this time), said my name and that I came from Illinois, to which I was told she responded that is where the President planted his political roots, and everyone else greeted her, and she responded with greetings in each of their respective tribes (it still amazes me that Kenyans can tell the difference amongst themselves). While talking to her she explained how this is where her husband (Barack’s grandfather), and her lived her, as well as her son (Barack Obama Sr.) lived here and both males are buried here. She gave a little history of her son (like what we all have heard countless times from the media and our President during the election), and also talked about how the President came and stayed here when he younger to learn about his family. She asked about me, and one of my friends explained to her in Luo who I was, that I was a student and also working here and what not, as well as who they were and what ISSA does. She spoke with us for about fifteen minutes, and before the end my friend asked her if we could get pictures. She said yes and specifically said because of me and that when I go back to America and tell people of this event that a picture would be the only way to prove that (as the security protection were adamant about not letting anyone take pictures with her or of the homestead). I am still in awe of the whole experience. Who would have ever thought that I could just walk into the American President’s grandmother’s homestead, in Africa no less a half a world away, and she would be this nice and assuming and come out and greet and talk with us like it were a friendly conversation over a card game or something. She has also become a public figure in Kenya, as she is now a UN Goodwill Ambassador for either health or the environment or something like that( I am not sure). Sarah Obama is such a lovely woman, and now when I am back in Nairobi and people ask about my trip and I tell them I met her, their eyes sparkle and they get this amazing sense of pride and admiration for her. This was an amazing highlight of my trip, and it was only the beginning of the weekend and the first thing we did on the trip- I was worried that the trip reached its peak at the beginning and would only go down from there.

I was very wrong in that sense, and as we were heading back to Kisumu, my friend Andrew (who grew up near a small village between Kisumu and Kogelo called Buwanda) told me “I think we should stop by my house. I want to say hi to my mom.” I got really excited because I was going to get the opportunity to experience and get a taste of a real Kenyan lifestyle, and this was going to be an amazing, unique event that as a white foreigner I never dreamed I would have this opportunity to experience real Kenyan life while I was here. So we got off the matatu near his house, and set off down a path for about a mile until we reached his homestead. Andrew grew up in very beautiful area with tall rolling green hills and shrubbery. As we were walking down the path Tony pointed to a group of trees that lined one side virtually the whole way down and pointed out that they were guava trees. When we reached Andrew’s family homestead, the first thing that I noticed that it was a decent-sized home with a couple cows out front who greeted us by mooing when they saw us in between lunching and grazing on their grass, and a few chickens roaming around. Andrew’s mother was not home yet, and so we just relaxed on some of the big boulders out front of the house in the shade under the trees. There were little kids who were running around playing (who I believe were Andrew’s nieces and nephews and other neighbor kids, as his older brother and his wife lived right next door), and once they spotted us they ran over and greeted us. Andrew told me that they were going to slaughter a chicken for lunch, and that they had to find the one that was going to be the lunch. They joked that it had run off that morning as no one had seen it. Once it was spotted, it was difficult to catch and was extremely funny watching Andrew and OJ chasing after it around the house diving under bushes and around trees trying to catch it. By about the third time around the house, Tony got up from sitting next to me, walked to a corner, waited for the chicken to come near, and just grabbed it and handed it to Andrew, who gave it to his nephews to do the slaughtering. They invited me back to the back to watch, so I accepted out of politeness and went near. For the second weekend in a row, I was watching an animal be killed for our food. I have to admit, it is easier to watch a chicken be slaughtered than a goat, as it is less of a process. Once the chicken was killed, Andrew, OJ, and I went for a walk in the area and he showed me around, pointing out his primary school and introducing me to some of his neighbors. While walking back to his house, Andrew told me “Ryan, when you meet my brother you have to greet her in Luhya, and told me how to say hello” (which I also don’t remember but it will come back to me). So when we got back she was there and I could see the resemblance to Andrew. She was dressed like a normal modern Kenyan, wearing a t- shirt and trousers, and when I greeted her she laughed at my Luhya. Andrew’s girlfriend Melissa and his mom helped began chopping up cabbage and preparing our meal, and we went outside and relaxed, where Andrew had stalks of sugarcane he chopped up and taught me how to eat right off the stalk. (You have to remove the very hard wooden outer part, and then bite and rip off the inner part, suck the juice out of it and then spit out the rest). (It’s kind of like a bigger, tougher, more complicated sunflower seed, but at the same time is extremely good. We went through about three very big sugar cane stalks between our group. (The sugar cane stalks are about 5 feet long).
This traditional Kenyan family dinner was the chicken that I saw slaughtered, and ugali and cabbage/mixed vegetables. The ugali tasted different than when I make it (and I make really good Kenyan food I must say), but it was good. I was explained that they grind up their own corn meal to make it, and that is why it was different a little bit than the bought maize flour that we buy. It was a good dinner, followed by good chai. Chai is different here, as they heat up the milk, and heat up water separately, and mix them together with the tea bag. It is thicker and really good as well, as Kenya is blessed with having some of the best tea (and coffee) in the world. We took pictures after with the family, and then said an after dinner prayer (this is a very catholic family, as most of Kenya is very religious and has visible prayers all of the time,) and left to go back to Kisumu. When we got back to Kisumu a couple hours later, we went to a market to buy supplies for a dinner, which we had at Thetu’s house. That dinner was beef stew, ugali, and sukumawiki. (This is the most traditional Kenyan dinner, and one that I have to admit I am really good at making.) You know, it has just occurred to me that most of you don’t know what I am talking about with this dinner. Beef stew is self explanatory, it is just beef that is thrown into a pot with a tiny amount of water, and it is just cooked over a burner and boiled. All you really need is the juice from the meat, but most Kenyans also throw in this mchuri meat seasoning which adds some good spice, and when I cook it I also chop up onion and throw it in too. Sukumawiki is essentially steamed kale (or collard greens, which I believe it is called in America). It is named Sukumawiki because it translates to “push the week”, which means that it is very cheap to buy stalks and you can usually make enough to last a week, or pushing the week for the poor people. Ugali is the other main dish and it is my specialty of all three. It is just maize flour and water. You bring water to a boil and then periodically add maize flour while stirring the whole time, until it gets to be a very dense, spongy like cornmeal cake. It was fun to be with these young Kenyans, who were cooking, as it was like a real authentic experience.

That Saturday was one of the most fun, and one of the most beneficial days that I have had while here in Kenya. When I came here I not only wanted to experience as much of Kenya as I could with traveling and learning, but I also wanted to dig as deeply into the culture and experience what real Kenyan life was like as much as I could. As a mazungu (white foreigner), that serves as an obstacle mostly, because how could I have a real Kenyan experience. However, on that Saturday I felt that I really had. Being in Kogelo, seeing the traditional Luo huts, (watching a guy in the process of thatching the roof) in the process on the walk back from Sarah Obama’s homestead all helped contribute to this. As did meeting Barack Obama’s grandmother, who is just a simple Kenyan woman and still lives like that. But going to Andrew’s home, eating sugar cane and a slaughtered chicken, and seeing how he grew up really made me feel like I got the experience that I wanted to have but did not see how was going to be possible while here.

The next day was the day to experience Kisumu. The lake is the dominating feature of the area so we headed down to it at mid-day. The first time I saw the lake I did not think it was a lake, but a green field. This is because in the bay around Kisumu, it is dominated by water hyacinth that has completely eaten up and taken over that part of the lake. You can not even see the water from the part of Kisumu closest to the lake. It is all plants that even are flowering. I thought this was really sad and asked about treatment. Andrew said that you could kill the plants, but that would also kill the fish (which is a huge industry in the area and historically the way of life of the Luo people, much like the Massai are pastoral herders, the Luo are known as fisherman). Andrew also explained to me that they hyacinth are strong and used to make baskets and what not, so at least they have made a functional purpose out of this unfortunate pollution to the lake. Along the lakefront bay, or hyacinth bay as it looks, are numerous fish shacks which I was excited to go to and one of the things that I wanted to do most when I was planning a Kisumu trip. So we had fried fish for lunch. When you walk into the shack, they have fish displayed on a table that are fresh from the lake, and they bring more in as they are caught and cut up and fried (all fish on display are already freshly fried lightly once). So you pick your fish and choose to have it friend again or fried or cooked in a stew with sukuma. It all comes with ugali as well. I have to say that the fish that we got was the best fish I have ever had in my life!!

After the amazing fish feast, we headed out for an hour and a half walk or so through Kisumu and up the lake to an area called hippo point that is the best view of the lake in the area, and way past all the plants to the real part of the lake. The last thing that I wanted to do before leaving Kisumu (as we had a 9pm bus back that nite), was watch the sunset over the lake. So we got there in late afternoon and stayed a couple hours until sunset. OJ, Tony, and I all ventured out onto some rocks on the shore and sat among some kids who were fishing. For me this trip was coming full circle. Here I was in the Luo region, on the most important and vital feature of their region Lake Victoria. I had met with a prominent family member of the most famous Luo on Earth the day before, and now was sitting here watching some Luo children fishing. These kids were practicing the same heritage that their ancestors had as well. Then I watched as OJ (also a Luo) took their rod and began fishing. On this trip I had had the whole Luo and Luhya (the Lake Tribes), and full Kenyan experience. I had met and spoke with the elderly and parental figures, was with the youth, my friends the whole time (in Kenya, the youth age group is defined as 18-35), and was sitting here watching Kenyan children play around the lake, much like their older family had I am sure when they were younger. The sunset over the lake was absolutely beautiful, and as the sun was setting, I saw a fisherman’s boat pass right under the sunset, returning to the dock for the evening. The last thing that I did in Kisumu was get a bota-bota (the bicycle type), from Thetu’s house to the bus station. Andrew said he couldn’t let me leave with Kisumu without getting one, as it is a pretty distinct part of Kisumu.

The trip was a very quick one (I was only in Kisumu from 5am Saturday morning-9pm Sunday nite), but there was really no other way to do the trip with my time constraints. It was the best trip that I have had so far and the most amazing weekend here. I feel very fortunate to have these Kenyan friends that I did to give me the real Kenyan experience I dreamed about but did not think would be possible. I am forever grateful to my friends the ISSA guys OJ, Andrew, and Tony, as well as to Andrew’s girlfriend Melissa for coming on this trip and making it so much fun, and the former ISSA girl Thetu for showing me around Kisumu and letting us crash at her place and use it as a base. When I came to Kenya, I knew that it would be the trip and experience of a lifetime, and I am sure that this trip will be up there as one of the biggest causes for this remarkable experience.

Tribalism Revisited

One of the things I have to do for my AU Abroad Kenya class while being here is to write critical incident papers throughout the semester, about a specific instant or theme that I have experienced and what I have learned from it. I have had to do three of them, all have had to have a different style of writing to them. I wanted to share with you the third one that I had to write, which I did on Tribalism. It is very similar to a previous post I put on here. The style this time called for me to write a newspaper article:

“Tribal Politics Hinders Kenyan Progression”

It can be heard talked about everywhere worldwide; in barbershops and bars, on street corners and in the office. Politics dominates the conversation in every setting, including the Eastern African country of Kenya. The Kenyan political flame simultaneously gave off its most intense heat and had its darkest hour during the December 2007 presidential election between the incumbent NARC candidate Mwai Kibaki (a Kikuyu), and the opposition ODM challenger Ralia Odinga (a Luo). The results of this election have never been released but concluded with a joint ruling coalition after massive reports of corruption and the violence that swept through the country for more than a month post-election and caught world attention.

“If I were to go into parts of Kibera (the largest informal settlement in Nairobi and one of the worst affected areas of the violence) after the election last year, I could not have come out alive. I could have been killed.” Francis, a Nairobi taxi driver who is Kikuyu remembers. The post-election violence was largely fueled by tribalism between the Luos and allies and the Kikuyu and their allies, and when mixed together with the political fervor of passion and hope for certain political candidates that occurs every election cycle, proved to be an explosive, violent, and deadly combination.

Kenya’s political history is covered with the blanket of tribalism, which makes Kenyan politics equally as frustrating as it is fascinating. It stands in complete opposition of the Western notion of a political landscape, and thus makes it nearly incomprehensible to an outsider who is not born and brought up in Kenya. For an American attempting to follow Kenyan politics, it is extremely difficult due to the added layer of tribalism. American politics not only do not have tribalism, but have nothing even remotely related to draw upon to understand the situation. The closest issues in American politics are race and potentially ethnic/pride of heritage, but these do not come close to touching upon the issue of tribalism in Kenya. The difference between American ethnic pride and Kenyan tribalism is distance. An contemporary American has immigrated to the United States from another country, and thus parted with some of their culture, customs, and traditions from their home country to assimilate to the mixing bowl that is the United States, whereas the Kenyan tribes still have their proud traditions and customs and language that have not gone anywhere and, to an extent, are still passed on and carried out today.

These proud cultures and histories transcend just normal custom rites and have their place marked out in the political arena as well. This causes people to support politicians and have differing views on historical and political events. At a dinner recently in which a discussion of Kenyan history and politics occurred with a family of Kalenjin, the Moi era (referring to the dictatorial twenty-year rule of Kenya’s second president Moi, who is a Kalenjin) was glossed over.
The Kalenjin family offered “it had its ups and downs.”
What should have been discussed is the severe limiting of civil and political liberties and freedoms, and the sometimes violent oppression that occurred during this time period, but that would not have gone over well so it was let lie.

Kenyan politicians understand the Kenyan political system and how tribalism can be exploited and perpetuated within the current system. This system’s main flaw is with the Kenyan ID cards, which have not only personal information such as name and address, but it also includes tribe and province originated from.
“They divide us based on our tribe and region because it is easier to govern that way”, believes Collins, a Nairobi youth and activist who grew up in the coastal city of Mombasa (Kenya’s second largest city).

In order to vote the Kenyan must cast their ballot in the province or region originated from as identified on the ID card. This system has an egregious error however as pointed out by Iddi, a Nairobi youth.
[When signing up for an ID card] “They asked for the area that I am from, so I said Nairobi. They said that I could not be from Nairobi, and so they looked at my name and said that I must be from this certain area and told me I had to this province and register and vote there. I have no connection with that area, no relatives or family there because I have grown up in Nairobi and they are telling me I must go here to vote. So I didn’t vote. I know many people who have gone through the same process”.

This process contributes to tribalism in politics because certain areas in Kenya are known as the homelands for their certain tribes, thus the politicians from that area are from the tribes and particular areas almost certainly will go towards specific people. This process only fuels tribalism and increases the potential for violence amongst the tribes like that which occurred after the last election.
Sometimes rebirth and regeneration can grow out of chaos, however, movements and beliefs in a united Kenya have grown out of the violence. Unfortunately this movement has not caught on among the politicians yet as at a conference for ideas about the future of Kenya held within the last few months talks turned tribal. Francis shows his contempt for these politicians at this conference:
“These people [politicians] who talk about the future of Kenya think [only] about themselves first, their tribes first. [They think] What can the government do for me, what can my people, my tribe get out of it? Kenya will never move forward this way. We need to identify ourselves first as Kenyans.

Collins agrees, adding “we need to think of ourselves as Kenyans first, think of what is best for us as a whole, and then make decisions based on that.”
This unity movement is popular among the youth in Kenya, and when asked what is his tribe Ojay, a youth activist in Kibera responds “I am a Kenyan”. He does not identify himself any other way even after being asked this question multiple times. The vision of unity also is popular with some of the older generations as well. When Francis is asked what tribe he is, he responds “I identify myself as a Kenyan. I am not a Kikuyu, I am a Kenyan. I identify myself first as Kenyan.”

As the country is and has been rebuilt after the political violence caused by the tribally-fueled post election last year, slogans have emerged such as “Never Forget, Never Again”, which was used by a recent photo exhibit of the violence. This slogan is an interesting choice and reflects the compromise that the must occur for Kenya’s future to progress. Perhaps this slogan should read Never forget your past, your heritage, and Never again shall we have political tribal violence.

Sarakasi Hospital Project Revisited

Since I just posted something heavy, I thought I might balance it out with something light. This was my second critical incident paper in which I had to do some sort of creative writing project. I chose to do a poem about the Hospital Project:

I awake dark and dreary,
Forthcoming day exciting and weary,
To a place of sickness and dying,
Today we bring laughter and smiling.

Door opening- faces brighten,
Children rush up and pull me each way,
In this sad place the mood is lightened,
“How are you” they all do say.

Setting up the stage children run around,
Some are sick and some are well,
We try to make the best of the situational hell,
Many young new friends I have found,

Excited for a visitor- tall and white,
In the audience there I alight,
Children sit on my knees both left and right,
Enter in the clowns what a funny sight.

Laughter has this healing power,
Full of positive spirit it creates,
A room full of humor the slapstick generates,
A time of fun and games during these hours.

Time now for the sing-along,
Children follow the performers in song and dance,
Everyone has a purpose, a sense that they belong,
In this positive atmosphere there are no cant’s.

Drawing and painting makes for more fun,
To me for their supplies the children do run,
From their work I can see,
There will be some future Van Goghs or Dali.

The Sarakasi Hospital Project experience was an eye-opener,
Of my future participation in it I am sure.

Rural Retreat Weekend: Ukambani Region

After a week of midterms and the being in the fast Nairobi grind-style life of studying for midterms and working, what better way to follow the week up than with a rural retreat for four days. So I was really looking forward to this rural retreat that marks the midpoint of my studies, travels, and adventures while here in Kenya. It was nice to get out of the fast Nairobi and into deep rural areas, a complete polar opposite of Nairobi. Every semester as part of the AU Abroad program, the people go on a rural excursion to learn about rural life in Kenya, and this semester we went to an area of Kenya called Ukambani.

Ukambani area is in the Eastern Province of Kenya (Kenya has eight provinces, similar to the states like in the US) in which the Kamba tribe is found, and where we went was about four hours away from Nairobi by bus. On US roads the trip would have been much quicker, as there was not really much of a road. There was road construction about the whole time, so for the length of the trip, it involved us driving on an ulterior dirt road that paralleled the main tarmac. This road was the windiest, bumpiest road I have ever been on and was much like a roller coaster, involving during a couple times the bus being up at about a 50 degree angle or higher and seemingly on one side to get around some areas. I have to be honest that I was not expecting anything less having heard about African (and Kenyan roads at that) before coming here. To be honest if I were in charge of development in Kenya that would be one of my first priorities is to make the roads better. With a country in which tourism is the number two industry it would make sense to have good roads for the tourists to get around. Unfortunately for the roads, agriculture is the number one industry and not many tourists go to the really agricultural areas that the dirt roads lead to.

When we arrived to our first town that we were going to be staying at, Machakos, my first reaction was that this area is one of the most beautiful places I have ever been. It was full of rolling green mountains that had terraced gardens/fields cut into the land and with goats and cows and chickens running around the area. It reminded me of a prettier version of the Appalachian Mountains on the drive that have made many times en route to Washington DC. But this was more exotic and more beautiful at the same time. During the afternoon in Machakos, we went to an agricultural development group called Osa Vinya, where we divided up into three groups to learn about their different projects and help out with them. One group made jam, one group learned how to make soap, and my group learned how to make bricks. Let me tell you that brick making is a lot of brick, and after going through the process, it made me appreciate even more buildings that are made of brick here and what the workers went through to build their houses or businesses. So the process for making bricks at Osa Vinya starts with an extinct safari ant hill (the best substance for making bricks, mud will also do but it is not as good of quality). You take a hoe or garden tool and you break off some of the anthill, and then you add a ton of water to it. Next you stand in the mud and step around in it mixing the dirt and water together until it is pretty thick. Then you take the brick mold and set it down, and throw in the mud, and pack it tightly but smoothly into the brick mold. Then you move away from the area and flip over the mudbrick and carefully shake it until it falls out of the mold. The bricks lie in the sun for a few days drying, and then they take the mud bricks and build an oven out of them, in which they light the whole thing on fire which dries and hardens the bricks even further until they are ready to be sold. Brick making is a lot of hard work and all of this is sold for about 12 Kenyan shillings (about 15 cents US) per brick. In about an hour our group of 5 AU students made 6 bricks, while experienced brick makers make a thousand bricks in a half days work (about 200-250 a person) and then call it a day. Brick making was my first taste of what this weekend would be like with learning about agricultural activities that are necessities, that we take for granted because machines do them, but in the rural areas of Kenya this is still done by hand.

After washing the mud off my hands and feet (with the soap that one of the groups made), we headed back to Machakos for the late afternoon/evening and were free to explore more until dinnertime. Instead of heading towards the town, I went out for a walk in the opposite direction away from town and more towards the mountains. I was mystified by the highlands…. I really could understand from the beauty of the land and the green around why the British kicked the natives off of their own land and wanted it for their own use. And, because technology has not progressed like in Nairobi and cars and whatnot are fewer here, I felt like I could have actually been one of those colonizers. (Here in Kenya I do get asked if I am British before I get asked if I am American, something that at first surprised me).

From the Green Highlands to the hot dry, but green Desert: Nyumbani Village:
The next morning we headed off towards Nyumbani Village. This village is a highly efficient, self-sustaining village that is a remarkable agricultural achievement and a green desert oasis located right in the middle of an area that has been through a long drought in Kenya. This village was founded by an American Catholic priest (who was an advisor to former US President George W. Bush on either environment or agriculture, I can not remember which), and is funded by USAID. I can assure you that in this case your tax dollars that go to foreign aid have not been wasted. This village was founded as essentially an AIDS orphanage center for families affected by AIDS. (In the early 90s in Kenya, AIDS had such a social stigma that children were not allowed to go to school if they were HIV positive, much in the same way the US was in some places before that too). From an agricultural and environmental viewpoint, this village is quite amazing. It is completely off the electrical grid (there is no electricity for at least 45 miles away from it), but yet it has power. It uses solar panels on the roofs of the buildings to utilize the desert sun), and this power goes into rechargeable batteries and generators that are typically switched off during the day and are flipped on at nite. The village always has enough water for both agricultural and human purposes as well because of the use of sand dams. These are an environmental breakthrough in the area and practiced in the middle east as well as dams are built out of sand on the streams in the area, which traps the water within the sediment, allowing for raising the water table and when water runs out pools are made in the sand. I have to be honest with you after reading three articles about them and seeing one on a tour of Nyambani, I am still not sure how they work but the village has water so it must work well in some way. After a delicious meal served to us for lunch that afternoon, we went on a tour of the village. This tour consisted first of a tour of the medical clinic (which I have to be honest is much nicer looking than that of Kenyatta Hospital, which I have visited twice with the Sarakasi Hospital Project- see earlier blogpost). The rooms were more private and cleaner, but at the same time it is a small private clinic in the middle of nowhere so its capabilities are limited. Within the hospital is also a room in which the very colourful, tightly woven baskets made out of sisal are for sale (this is a trademark of Nyambani Village). Walking around, you see old women weaving these baskets everywhere. Nyambani Village is an anomaly in Kenya, because the most of the households are run by the old “grandmothers”, or “Mamas” as they are called here in Kenya. I believe of the three hundred different “families” that are in the Village, there are roughly 50 Mamas and 4 older men that run things. This runs in confrontation with how most of Kenya is set up, as it is most of the tribes and most of the homesteads are set up in a patrilineal or patriarchal system. Walking around the village, I would be greeted in Kamba by the older women, who would keep shaking and holding my hand until I gave the appropriate Kamba response from a younger person greeting his elder. This response was sort of a flattened, elongated “aaaah” sound, and in the society the young do not greet the elders first, you wait to be greeted and then you give that response. I thought this was very strange and almost backwards from other experiences I have had in Kenya, in which I have been encouraged to walk up to and greet complete strangers and they would greet back and strike up a conversation (especially in the rural areas).

Anyways back to the tour. We went and saw the different gardens that they had there. This village does not use any sort of chemicals or pesticides, as everything is completely organically grown. They practice crop science here and natural fertilization, experimenting with different plants in different soils to see which things grow better, as well as crop rotation. I could see this as I would notice the soil changing from one garden area to the next, and with the different plants or same plants rather growing in different soils. Being from very rural Illinois with agriculture all around, I have always grown up with agriculture but have never really experienced it before or given it much thought, but this was quite fascinating. The village directors had foresight to plan everything, even sloping the ground up to water spouts and planting vegetables and other crops in areas where the extra water from the faucets runs off into. No water is wasted in this village, especially in this desert area. They also practice natural fertilizers from the manure from the normal farm of cows and goats and whatnot, as well as the very cleverly titled “humanure”, I don’t need to go into detail about that I think you can figure out what that is. I will say that no waste (human nor animals), as well as water goes wasted in this village. We also saw many bee hives (the Ukambani area, and especially Kitui, is Africa if not world famous for its honey I figured out”. We saw a sand dam and also got a tour of the actual settlement areas. It was well designed with four houses all centered around a central water spicket. I believe there were eight of these different settlements of four houses, and we went in one of the houses. Which were decent sized with at least 6 rooms in them. It was really interesting to see a Kenyan home because I had never been in a real one before, and it was especially interesting seeing the bedrooms. I had heard before from other people in my group who had been fortunate enough to be invited into homesteads that people cover their walls with random newspaper articles about the Western world and American, and we had a discussion and theorized that this provides these people with an escape/ there desire is to be American or Western and collect material wealth, and these people really do cover there walls with articles. In the children’s room that I saw the walls were lined both with sports articles about their favourite soccer player or team (as I would expect in any boys room anywhere in the world basically), but there were also articles about Obama, and American cars and an old interview from about 1998 with Britney Spears taken from some magazine like Seventeen or Teen People or something. It really was bizarre and I wish I could figure out why in 2009 some of these articles were up there. As I was walking around the settlement, a flock of children just ran up to us, and one grabbed ahold of my arm and did not let go, so what I did was picked him up by that arm, lifted him over my head and let him sit on my shoulders for the a lot of the afternoon. He really enjoyed that and I also played jump rope and a kick version of tetherball with the kids. While walking back to the main part of the village, I was called over for an event I knew was forthcoming on this trip and was looking forward to but sort of nervously curious at the same time.
We had planned to acquire a live goat, and then participate/watch in the killing of it and the skinning and gutting and roasting of it for our dinner that nite. (Goat meat is one of the main meats here in Kenya and is actually really good… it tastes like a sort of tougher rougher beef). I will say that the event did happen and was quite the experience. I am not going to go into real detail of the event because it was very graphic, but it was a once in a lifetime experience that I am glad to have gotten the experience in doing. I will say that I did not participate in the actually killing of the goat (no one in our program did as the guys who were doing that did all of that work, I don’t think I could have actually participate in that part). Some of the people did participate in the skinning, and I helped hold the fur out of the way to maximize maneuverability. (I want to say that some people on this trip were reluctant to watch/were thinking about becoming vegetarian after this incident, and I want to address that issue with my own personal feelings that meat is too good to give up. Also animals are treated well over here as everything is free range and not kept in tiny cages and what-not. An animal must be killed in order to eat it, and the meat taste the same whether seeing it done in the way it has been done for natively for many generations, or if it is bought packed from a store. It makes no difference either way, and in fact that dinner we had that nite was amazing.

After the goat had been prepared it took a few hours to cook, and we were preparing to have a bonfire that nite, so I and some of the other males volunteered to collect firewood. In the desert this was quite a trek and a real rural experience, as we had to walk about a kilometer to find enough big firewood and not just brush for the fire. We found two very big logs, and I cared one by myself that I would estimate weighed over 50 pounds at least the kilometer back to the bonfire by myself. (I wanted to have one of those “tell your grandkids” story that will go something like… “back when I was your age and living in Africa I was staying in this rural village without electricity and running water and was sent to get firewood and had to carry a log the size of you for a half a mile”. Hahaha I don’t know but it was fun and I enjoyed doing that labour. After dinner we made like real tribal traditional Kenyans and told stories by the campfire, and it was really interesting hearing some of the Kenyans telling stories passed down among their tribes, (stories about traditions, customs, rites of passage (depending on the tribe rites of passage included either circumcision or removing of teeth and other things to celebrate coming of age). It was a lot of fun hearing people tell stories, both the Kenyans and the Americans, both traditional stories and local urban legends, ghost stories from various areas. After that happened for awhile we busted out the technology and played catch-phrase (a word association game) that was equally as fun, but did not have the same satisfaction as the feelings I got while listening to old stories by the fire.

The next day we took another bus down a bumpy road to Kitui (which is the town that is famous for honey), and has the look and feel and experience of a typical very small town in Kenya (I will describe that more in a second). But first we went to Nzambani Rock. This is a rock that is pretty high up and an incredibly unique experience. After you hike part of the way up, you reach a spiral staircase that bolted into the rock that you climb up many stories until you reach the top of the rock. This rock is hundreds of feet high and offers spectacular views of Kambaland. Everywhere you look in all directions there are just rolling hills and mountains, and it really feels like you are on top of the world. I took many pictures from the top of this plateau but it was one of those settings pictures don’t even come close to doing the scenery justice, as there is so much to take in. We had a picnic lunch after climbing the rock at the base of the rock and then headed back to town where we could explore.

Kitui is a typical Kenyan rural town, and is much like typical small rural towns in any part of the world. There are essentially about six main streets that make up the center of town, three parallel streets with three parallel cross streets intersecting in a grid system sort of. You have your few grocery stores and hardware stores, as well as a couple banks, a post-office, a restaurant a bar, and that is your town. The only difference is that in Kenya, most of these rural towns the buildings with tin buildings and tin roofs, and with dirt streets and pathways. Kitui is exactly like this, as well as has its offshoot roads with dense foot traffic and a market and small shacks for houses off of the center of the town. This is also common of rural towns in Kenya, and reminded me a lot and had the look and feel of the informal settlements I have been in around Nairobi. The area is just poorer and that is why it had this look, but it is the normal town. The difference between the Nairobi settlements and rural villages is that the air is much cleaner, and the people are much more friendly and nice, as is typical in rural small towns across the world from what I have observed.

It was really fun to get to experience the rural villages and do some labour experiencing what every day life is there. I learned a lot and look forward to traveling more around Kenya and learning more from the different areas of this incredibly beautiful country that has so much to offer.

I Need Your Help- Please Comment with your advice and input

Tune in very soon to read about my four day rural retreat to a very rural part of Kenya, (to places far off of the electrical grid and without running water and what not), where I learned about agricultural and environmental issues in Kenya in a rural setting. It is taking some time to write and will be quite long I believe as it covers a four day period that was quite eventful. This will be coming within the next day.

I am writing this post because I need some help/advice from you. I recently received an email from an advertising agency www.wikimetro.org asking if I wanted to partner with them/ have them sponsor my blog. Basically they were asking if I would want to sell advertising on my blog. I received this email and have this opportunity because I have a high number of traffic on my blog thanks to all of you who read it. I thank you very much for reading my blog and feel very honoured and flattered that so many people read it. I responded with an inquiry about the details of the sponsorship and have yet to hear back. This opportunity puts me in a dilemma. While this would be an opportunity for me to make some money, it also feels like a way of making my blog less personal and in a way I would feel like i am selling myself. As a member of new media(blogs, youtube, picture posting websites), I am seeing blogs go the way of old media, and I do not exactly like the direction that it is heading. I had a class last semester called news, media, and foreign policy in which we tracked the ammount of advertising in the Washington Post for an entire week, and on average for the whole week 70-80 percent of the total amount of spaces on the pages in the newspaper were devoted to advertising and not to stories. This frustrates me to see this type of thing but it is like this across the board with advertising in both big and small papers.

I am writing this to ask for your opinion because this blog is for you the readers as much as it is for me the writer of the blogpost. I want your opinion on whether I should open this blog up to advertising, which would make me some money, or keep it closed and an ordinary blog full of my stories and lessons about Africa. Please leave comments with your opinion on the situation, you can leave it as anonymous or as your log in name (if you have one), I do not care I am just looking for advice and help on the situation/ potential option.

Thank you very much for your input and for reading this blog and I will have another post to you shortly.