5/6/11Even get the feeling you'd be a different person if you were given a different name?  Are we living up to everything our parents intended when they first caught sight of us?  Increasingly kids are given names of great and well-known people.  Names you hear on the radio and see scrawled across headlines.  Understandably so most parents hold big dreams for their newborn, and adorns their child with the most meaningful names.  One sunny afternoon I give a futbol to a few kids and unintentionally divert the United Nations from their daily chores of fetching water.  Charity was the strongest and most mature of them all.  She called for attention, respect, delegation of the game, and in return she gave each child a chance to play.  She made sure to tell me who wasn't playing nice.  That's when Osama came in.  He had a lot of energy, too much for the younger kids, and was accused of playing "too rough".  Clinton, on the other hand was just too nice for the rest of the group. He hung low with his big smile and waited patiently until the ball was passed to him.  All the while Kibaki generally stood to the side and yelled out his own name occasionally.  After a while I stood back and began to watch these kids interact with each other.  I began to understand who needed codling after a fight, and who got up and brushed themselves off.  It felt like I was reading the World News section of any daily newspaper.  Of course I know nothing about this child name Osama, and Charity may have been more demanding than her name suggests, but it made me consider how much our name plays a destiny in our future.  Who would I be if I were named Hope? Or been born a male, of royalty, in poverty, or with a different color skin?  The child Clinton may be far from Little Rock, how much of that will determine his life?

Hello my fellow bloggers!  Sorry for the delay in blogs, things have been busy which is good! Trust me.  But I have some more that need posting, so they are...just there.  In the meantime I need to shamelessly put my project out there.  It's totally dependent on donations from you. But I'm not just targeting my friends and family, what I would greatly appreciate is if you sent this link to anyone who you think cares.  That way people know about the problems young children encounter here and how most of it is out of their control.  So please share share share!-HPS: feel free to ask me more about the project...there isn't much info on the website.

Chai Connoisseur

[21/2/2011]

Dripping sweat? Have some chai! Just returned from a buffet? Have some chai! Just finished a marathon? Have some chai! Just had some chai? Have some chai!

Welcome to the country that exports the third largest amount of black tea. Although Kenya exports only the best tea they grow, a lot of the leaves that didn't make the cut are pushed onto unsuspecting wazungu. This classic drink, an unfortunate remnant of colonial Kenya, is made by boiling half water/half whole milk in a sufuria, usually over an open fire pit. Dried tea leaves are added with enough sugar to put the Sugar Plum Fairy in cardiac arrest. The tea is strained and best served steaming hot to uncomfortable wazungu  everywhere. Perfect examples of this are after an hour bike ride during the hottest time of day. Or after a home visit in which you are considered rude if you don't finish all five sweet potatoes and ½ kg of ugali. Under these conditions chai is best savored slowly and by the liter. And please! Be free to express when you've had too much because trust me, they'll make more.

Chai is a versatile drink that can be served at any time of day. In the morning it is often taken with bread. At my office it is made around 10 AM, and any meeting is not official without chai. Most Kenyans don't go to sleep unless there is a steaming cup of chai settling in their stomachs. If you're not careful by the end of a typical day in Kenya you can take in enough caffeine to keep you running well into the next.

It is acceptable to serve chai without milk if none can be found, but the server must apologize for the inconvenience. At this point a typical mzungu would state that they don't even care for whole milk anyway, which causes the Kenyan to confirm that wazungu  really are weird people. Joy! I've never been served chai without sugar, which seems to be the staple in Kenya's staple drink. In fact, when people ask for items like drugs to treat their TB, or money to pay for their child's school fees, sugar can generally be found on that list for chai. I've even seen proposals written with money allocated for chai. They sure do love their chai here!

At the beginning of the year when most organizations receive their funds to spend responsibly in the community, sweet sweet chai can be found running through the rivers, offered to anyone who shows up at the appropriate time. By mid-year the chai funds are demolished, leaving office dwellers fondly dreaming of the land of milk and sugar, waiting for next years funds to be approved.

Alas, the chai connoisseur is one aspect of Kenyan culture that I won't miss when I return home. Even as I write this, sweating in the heat of mid-day, I'm being served the perpetually full cup of chai. And what a shame if it mysteriously disappeared out the open window....

The Ultimate Greeter

[12/10/10]

Greetings in Kenya are incredibly repetitive and often contain material that is obvious to the outsider, yet they are an essential custom that must proceed any conversation. A translated example of these greetings used daily is as follows: The day is opening. I greet you. How did you wake? You have just finished. How are you going? You have just arrived. How is home? You are walking. You have just returned.

Most of the time I feel like these are just bad conversation starters, but to Kenyans it's almost rude if you don't ask how someone woke. I like to mix these up a bit and say the opposite, “No I am not 'just here'...it's an illusion!” (complete with hands waving). In which case the sarcasm is lost and they move onto the next greeting, leaving me in a weird place.

To be as thorough as possible the “Ultimate Greeter” can only be understood when they are broken down into appropriate age groups:

Babies (ages newborn to 1 year): I love babies here because they are the only people who don't see you as different, and then immediately feel the need to greet you. Their only concern is where their momma is. In fact, I am a hypocrite because I have found myself on several occasions staring at them, lost in the thought that they see me as the same as everyone else...and that's such a wonderful concept.

Children (ages 2-10): I'm pretty sure most first words here are pretty similar. I can just see the parents chanting them along: “Mzungu, how are you?” Faster and faster until the child find confidence in every syllable. But really I have found that there are two types of “Ultimate Greeter” children here. When they see a white person it comes down to the kids who run up to you with confidence and stick their hands out, and those who don't. The latter generally wait until the shock of the mzungu sighting has warn off and you pass before they muster the strength to return the greeting. The best is when one child emerges from a group of it's peers to greet the strange visitor, giving the others a chance to marvel is their friend's courage.

Youths (Ages 11-30): This huge chunk of the population is generally too cool to greet wazungu. Thank goodness because I can't deal with that teenage angst.

Adults (Ages 31-50): This age group prefers to replace “mzungu” with more appropriate Dholuo greetings, which makes-up most of my joy here in Kenya. They are usually excited to speak to white people in Dholuo, at which point they will coerce you into their homes and force you to take porridge or chai. Many times you will be parting with gifts like groundnuts, avocados, and bananas wondering what just happened. If you're found walking about in a community you will often be asked by these Ultimate Greeters when you will visit their homes. Most of your time spent with them is shaking hands, kissing babies, and listening to their stories, but try not to get caught up in the politics of it all.

Wazee (Ages 51-who knows): This group of elders often carry most of the respect in the community. So whatever you do, you must nod in agreement with their crazy stories spoken in a mixture of English/Kiswahili/Dholuo and praise them for their vast wisdom. I have found that this type of Ultimate Greeter will only greet me in Kiswahili, which I don't quite understand why yet, but I have a sneaking suspicion they are messing with me. At some point in the conversation you will find that you have extinguished your knowledge of Kiswahili so it is advised to end with a long, drawn-out “Asssannnnteeee Saaannaaa!” and start walking backwards. The mzee Ultimate Greeter will seemingly become furious with this attempted termination, but really they are just trying to get a message across in a language you don't understand. They have been known to raise their cane above their heads and pump it to the cadence of their words. At this point you have attracted a lot of attention so it is wise to “check out” of the conversation and walk briskly in a direction where you will not encounter them again...at least for the day.

The Unknown: This version of Ultimate Greeter constitutes all ages and is generally unknown to the mzungu. It must be noted that they are not just nice people who greet anyone, but they only extend their greetings to white people. It doesn't matter if you're having a conversation, taking lunch, or walking with a destination, you will be constantly bombarded by these unknown greeters as others walk by without the slightest acknowledgment. Sometimes this type of Ultimate Greeter will take it once step farther and extend to a handshake. This is where “mzungu  magic” is understood to be exchanged. Though I'm not sure what this “magic” consists of and how I can have access to it for myself.

All-in-all greetings and subsequent conversations take about about two hours of my day, and this is when I'm not out working in the field. At first the Ultimate Greeter was a huge stress and annoyance in my life, but slowly I became aware when things were too quiet and my supply of avocado too low. At which time I leave the comfort of my home for my “meet and greet”. Now nothing feels like home like hearing the patter of children's feet following me, too shy to stick out their hands, and the soft whisper of “mzungu” coming from the bushes. Up ahead people pause in the path as they watch my every move (I think an alien spaceship has just landed behind me). The Ultimate Greeter awaits their chance.

[18/2/2011]

You hear it everywhere you go, but mostly in the villages. Kids, and sometimes adults, yell out “Mzungu, how are you?” If you're feeling especially patient you turn to the person greeting you and kindly explain (in whichever language you choose) that your name is not mzungu, it is (fill in the blank here). And other times, when this is the 38th time today you've been called mzungu  in one day, you ignore the person hoping they get the message.

Depending on the person you ask, and the intention of the greeting, the word mzungu has many different meanings. I've heard it translated to: white person person on the move ghost educated one traveler person with riches

And the stereotypes go on....

I have a friend who recently returned from a trip to China where he was also bombarded by their version of mzungu: Wa lai. I am told this is literally translated to “white devil” but it is used as “foreigner”. He shared the embarrassment, and I shared his pain...for a second. Then I got to thinking about all the countries that have a similar term to mzungu. It must be any country where white men have come, thrown around money, and enforced ideas about how they do things “better”. Most people working in developing countries (and travelers) are so offended by this term because that's the exact concept we're working to change. But instead of erasing history maybe we should embrace it and try to learn about how to improve on our past mistakes.

I've seen my fellow volunteers move from utter disbelief, to sheer annoyance, to finally acceptance whenever they are greeted with mzungu. This succession of emotions comes from fully understanding culture in Kenya, and why every “mzungu”  thrown out there isn't necessarily an intent to hurt.

Names, birthdays, anniversaries...anything that we Americans use to identify ourselves with are of little importance to Kenyans. Luo names are seemingly unoriginal here, usually describing the time of day you were born and sometimes whether it was rainy season or not. Also there are few Christian (first) names that have been adapted into the society. So often you'll end up with a class that has three “Odhiambo's”, two of which are “Maurice”. There is little effort taken in spelling these names correctly and even keeping them all (sometimes four names) in order. It's not that Kenyans are illiterate, or that they care so little about themselves that they can't properly maintain a name. It's that it's just a name, after all.

This may seem counter-intuitive to Americans who crave individuality as much as oxygen. But in Kenya anything (tattoo, hair, name, religious views, way of thought) “different” can set you up for shame. So in a culture where you try your hardest to live like your neighbor the naming system reflects it.

People here do take pride in what they do. Almost every profession has a title accompanying it, which seems much more acceptable than calling someone by their given name. Luo's call a tailor “fundi”, my watchman is known as “Soldier”, my boss is “Coordinator”, and a teacher is given the Kiswahili name “Mwalimu”. Following the tradition, women here are given the name of their first-born son. I have a friend whose son is named after his grandfather. Old men are usually called minzee in Dholuo, so the son was subsequently nicknamed minzee. So if you follow me in this crazy twist of a story, when you call out to my friend all you have to yell is “'Zee!”, for short. Makes total sense, right? It took me about two months to unravel that puzzle.

So when I first got to Kenya and people began calling me mzungu I went through all the stages myself: Utter disbelief of the racism. Sheer annoyance with the multitude of mzungu  greetings from from around. And then finally acceptance that I'm not here to change history, but I would like to teach a little about my culture. And in America, we call each other by our fist names.

Nyar Kakelo signing-off

[12/10/10]

Here I am sitting in a meeting trying my hardest to get the context from the fast-paced Dholuo. It's not until about 2 hour in that my mind starts to wonder towards the people sitting here with me. It slowly dawns on me that they are doing weird things. Well, relatively weird things. To each other they are acting within their cultural norms. In a society where being different is generally frowned upon I experience great joy in observing their “odd” behavior. Because what we think is odd is just typical, everyday life to someone else. Cheers!

My Cellphone Circa 1997 is the Best in the World. Congratulate Me.

Kenya has come a long way with digital communication. Currently there is a huge competition among the four major cell phone companies, causing them them to continuously lower their prices and make my life generally awesome. Right now I can text anyone on any network (in Kenya) for 1 Ksh [exchange rate is about 80 Ksh/1 USD]. And I have the option to call America for 2.5 Ksh/minute. I don't have power or running water, but I do have internet whenever I want it. At this point in time Kenyans have every right to be proud cell phone owners. But I still need to make fun of them....

Whether you're riding public transportation or sitting respectively in a meeting you are bound to hear a soundtrack, a sort of “Kenyan National Anthem” if you will, at any given moment. The rings are the same ones your heard in middle school hallways 15 years ago, comprised of anything from Mozart to the infamous Nokia tune. When the ring is heard a triumphant look of pleasure is read upon the face of the owner. “Yes, this is my phone.” it says “Let us all enjoy the fantastic work of 'Airy' by the Nokia company.”

As the tune raises higher up the scale you wonder at which point the owner will silence the annoying gadget. At this time it is proper for the owner to raise the phone high above the head (much like Simba was risen above his kingdom in “The Lion King”.) Perhaps this is to reach full signal, or to give the owner better sight of the name calling. Or maybe it's so everyone on the 15 passenger matatu (now containing 27) can catch the repeat of “Airy” one more time. Amazingly, Kenyans are kind enough to wait until the last second to answer their cell phone, ensuring that everyone has had a chance to enjoy.

This behavior has been noted to be especially appropriate during meetings. No matter how many times you're asked to silence your mobile, please pay no attention! What we really need to know about you is what type of phone you have and which pop hit you've downloaded, which tells us a lot about how you feel about the gangster war in the US between the east and west coats. But more importantly this will give us a chance to make a mental note of how cool you are.

Chief barazas are an exceptionally proper time for the Chief to show off one of his many phones. You should be so lucky to be having a conversation when one of his lines rings. The downside being that your conversation is over. The best way to take care of this seemingly rude situation (not in Kenya though!) is to back away slowly and save yourself the embarrassment that no one called you.

Unfortunately enough, cellphone companies have not caught onto the fact that not everyone has the money to carry on long conversations. Most Kenyans are troubled by this dilemma when they really have the urge to greet someone (see “The Ultimate Greeter”) but only have a few spare minutes of credit on their phone. As a result most phone conversations with Kenyans can be 10 seconds or less. I've had people call me just to see how I'm doing, only to end the conversation once I've replied. I've heard conversations that consist of one sentence: “You are home?”, or “You are coming?” with the call ending as soon as it began. As a result there are no “goodbyes” at the end of phone calls here. I try to say things like “OK” or “thank you” to terminate these calls, but most of the time I'm left with the terminal “beep beep beep” on the other line, signaling that someone just hung up on you. Hanging up without properly saying goodbye, answering a call during a meeting, and annoying everyone on the matatu with your stupid ring tone isn't meant to be rude at all. They are simply new behaviors that have been adapted into the culture with the change of technology.

But cell phones here are all annoyances. It can be a magical time, really. Imagine, if you will, the matatu scenario again. It's hot, you have people crammed in areas you wouldn't expect touched on a third date, and the driver won't leave the stage until the standing room at the sliding door has been filled. Suddenly the sweet release of Dr. Dre is heard muffled by the bodies. A fist is thrust into the air and the totally awesome owner is announced. You yell to the front “Don't answer it, I love this song!” And you sway to the rhythm with the momma sitting next to you as you travel to the dreamy, far-away land of gunshot wounds and pimps.

[14/2/11]I was recently showing a friend of mine pictures of my American family.  Her wide eyes took in every detail of my sister's wedding dress and our perfectly painted faces.  In posing for pictures in America, most women our age are only thinking of one thing: themselves. "Is my hair frizzy?""Did I smear my mascara?"You exclaim "tag me!" after the camera snaps so potential boyfriends can peruse photos of you and decide whether you're worthy of a second date.Back to Kenya: "Oh you are so fat!", my friend exclaimed.  My jaw dropped.  "Really?" I panicked.  A conceited nature set over me and suddenly I didn't want anyone looking at my photos anymore.  All that effort to be what I imagined beautiful, one remark and my self-esteem shattered.  And then within seconds I smile at my outrageous reaction.  In a society where malnutrition is a standard, fat is very beautiful.  She was complementing me.Speaking with a Kenyan who lives around Lake Victoria we were discussing why the HIV rate is absurdly high in the area.  Listing off the reasons one by one he catches me off-guard with fake hair.  Oh wail, you'll have to explain that one.  Women will sell themselves for a little money to go to the salon.  And then I realized that even I have noticed how nice women's hair can be and have inadvertently complemented my friends on spending the money to look that way.  So what kind of behavior am I encouraging?  Especially for women who seem at most pressure to please the opposite sex and their peers.  If we have to overeat to the point where your health is at risk, expose yourself to disease with risky sexual behavior, endure female genital mutilation, and buy incredibly expensive material for fancy dresses, how beautiful are we?Here it's hard to talk to a woman and notice the dirt on her face and the tattered clothes she wears.  You most certainly will see the child strapped to her back and the pot of steaming hot food she's bending over.  And when you talk to this woman she speaks of her passionate concern for her family and community and the problems she endures everyday, struggling through life.  These are women who are truly "ber ahinya" because for once it's not about themselves.

On March 1st this year Peace Corps will be celebrating it’s 50th anniversary and as a part of the activities in our year long celebration currently serving volunteers have developed the “Live Like a Peace Crops Volunteer Challenge” As a participant in this challenge individuals back in the U.S. are asked to give up some everyday conveniences for one week, in part to help raise awareness of the Peace Corps mission and also to give the participant a small taste of Volunteer life.  Please take a moment to find out more about our “Live Like a PCV Challenge” by visiting LiveLikeaPCV.org even if you decide not to take part you can be a huge help to us by simply forwarding this idea to others, and if you have a Facebook account marking our FB page as a favorite. (you can find our facebook page through LiveLikeaPCV.org)

You can email me to get the Kenya rules (mcguirkhelen@gmail.com) or wait for them to be posted on the website this week.

Thanks,

Helen

[21/1/11]In a country with over 40 tribes and just as many languages spoken, communication is not Kenya's strong front. I was having a conversation with another volunteer about how chaotic everything seems to be here.  At the end of the conversation we came to an understanding that there is an order, we just can't recognize it.  Take negotiating for a matatu ride, for instance.  This can all be done without saying a word, if you're truly suave enough.  A fist means 50 bob, 2 fingers is 20 bob, pointing to the ground can mean "Bwana! Bring the price down!"Coming from a culture where your words must be direct with your intentions I'm still amazing at how efficiently an idea can be shared without so much as a single word being uttered.  I remember during training the staff warned us about the indirectness of Kenyan society.  It touches on how carefully we have to observe and listen to each other.  At first this may seem like an inefficient and round-about way to get words across (and trust me, working here for 8 months I've had my moments of frustration).  But if you step back for a different perspective the politeness and accommodation for the other person in the conversation is something all nations and peoples can learn from.So I tried a little experiment with communication on my way home.  After hopping into a vehicle and we were on our way I coolly paid the price to Mikai, which was accepted without haggling.   As my town approached I turned, made eye contact with the conductor, and gave a short nod.  He nodded back and tapped the metal rim of the van with coins in his hands, signaling a stop.  I've learned a lost since moving here.  Namely, communication isn't just a collection of words, and becoming Kenyan isn't so bad.

The following history is based on the creation of Rachuonyo District and how Kakelo Location came about, as told to me by my Assistant Chief.

A man named Rachuonyo fathered a son named Sipul. Sipul had two sons named: 1) Omala, whom subsequently created Kabondo Division of Rachuonyo District, and 2) Owindi, whom created Kasipul Division, which is where present-day Kakelo Location is. Owindi had three sons: 1) Okoth, 2) Anyango, and 3) Okal. Okoth himself had three sons: 1) Ndaya, 2) Ojwach (later to have six sons), and 3) Ogudi (later to have 18 sons).

Ndaya initially had no children by his first wife, so he later remarried a woman who was pregnant and bore a son named Okwanyo (now his first and bastard child). His wife later conceived and bore him a second son by the name of Onuonga. Ndaya was very rich because he had no children and was therefore envied by his brothers Ojwach and Ogudi for being the first born.

Ojwach bore six sons and later inherited Ndaya's wife named Onjaro. Ogudi had many wives with 18 sons but the family disbanded when most of the wives died or divorced. The two brothers later sent away Onuonga's (Ndaya's son) mother, and the community started to abuse them for what they had done. The brothers suffered much abomination. Ojwach later told his brothers to help get back the wife, but Ogudi refused since he took all the riches (cattle). Ojwach initiated a marriage by paying one cow for Onuonga to marry a wife called Atinda.

Ojwach sent his six sons to go and take cattle from where Ojudis' cattle were grazing to pay dowry for Atinda. While they were taking the cattle Ogudi also sent his 18 sons to get back the cattle and a battle broke out. Ogudi fell and broke his limbs. He told his sons to leave the cattle to pay the dowry and uttered the words “A divine revenge” for what he had done.

Atinda had four sons: 1) Danga (married Muga), 2) Odera, 3) Otieno, and 4) Onyango. Onyango had two sons: 1) Basa, and 2) Magak. Basa later married four wives: 1) Mbul, 2) Akelo, 3) Atieno, and 4) Othiur. He later inherited Dianga's wife, Muga, whom he took on as a fifth wife. Because his first wife Mbui had no good relationship with people and Akelo was a very kind woman, Onyango's father blessed Akelo and he took Akelo and Muga and built their house into one home.

Akelo had three sons: 1) Muma, 2) Okiro (who later inherited Nyongach), and 3) Miroth. Muma had two wives: 1) Ayoo, and 2) Nyongach. Ayoo had two sons with Muma: 1) Onger, and 2) Otieno. Onger had two wives: 1) Ochola, and 2) Mwalo. Otieno inherited Onger's wives and bore five sons.

Oyieko married Amolo and she bore him five sons: 1) Ochola, 2) Muma, 3) Awino, 4) Okiro (had only one son: Nyachuma), and 5) Onger (had eight sons but died). Awino married two wives: 1) Ajwang, and 2) Obonyo Nyocko.

Muma, who is Akelo's first son now makes Kakelo Dudi sub-location and Okiro and Miroch, second and third sons, consequently makes Kamroth sub-location. The name Kakelo Dudi is born from Akelo and the hill Dudi, and comprises of two Mwalo (Onger's second wife) and Amolo (Oyieko's wife).

[19/11/10]Work as a PC volunteer is what you make of it.  You do what your community asks of you, and depending on that schedule it can take time time for them to formulate their question.  Today I wait for my coworker to arrive to we can work on a proposal together.  It's now noon.  She'll probably arrive and we'll go to the market and pick food for lunch.  Then we'll return back to the office and fetch firewood to cook over a fire pit.  If there's time before the rains come we'll sit (after the dishes have been cleaned) and work on our project.  If not, "tomorrow is also a day."  Life is just that here.  People are never in a rush to get things done and in fact seem to have no concept of time.  Everyday is dedicated whole-heartily towards friends and family first.  Sometimes when I'm contemplating the day I later realize that I rushed through greeting someone or avoided another altogether because I had a destination that seemed more important.  I forget about the journey and how some of my best memories here were formed when I remember to slow down and enjoy the company.  Today I am thinking about the daily grind of the American work ethic.  How each day is one step closer to the weekend and the next holiday.  All the songs about working for the weekend and incentives like "happy hour" and end of the year bonuses to make the lifestyle seem worthwhile.  I remember the daily migration of cars driven by life-less people running on 5 hours of sleep--into the city--out of the city, turning days into weeks and soon it is Christmas.  Today I am thinking about my family, Thanksgiving, and all those seemingly silly traditions that you take for granted until you don't have them anymore.  My Mom is either psychic or can read me like a book.  She knows what I miss about home because they raised me in it.  She stopped me in my sorrow one night in October and challenged me to create my own traditions.  So here goes: I resolve to stop and fully listen to the people.  Not just what they say, but what they don't ask for also.  To find the goodness in each and every person.  I exchanged my high-speed Americanisms for total immersion into the culture.  And whatever pace my workday may be, I've found that there is always a problem to be solved.  With that I have become a project generating machine, and with every five ideas I come up with hopefully one will be sustainable enough to benefit my community.  I think back to Thanksgiving and the gathering of all that is good and bountiful on our plates and in our hearts.  I am grateful for my friends and my family, here and abroad, and the kind people who remind me daily to slow down, enjoy the greetings and the journey.  It's now 1pm and my coworker is still missing.  She's probably working in her shamba, I think I'll join her.

26/10/10As we're waiting to board our flight to Kenya back in May a few trainees and I decide to have one last beer on American soil before we knowingly subject ourselves to two years of Tusker.  Across the bar we spot none other than Viggo Mortensen himself.  Being the young, inexperienced go-getter that I am I decided nothing is going to stop me from getting a picture with him.  One last selfish American act before I move to Kenya.  As I walked confidently towards his stool he tightens and eye contact is useless.  I asked him, and like the 50 other people who asked him that day, he obliges.  He quickly composes himself and professionally turns his irritated frown into the face of a man grateful for all his fans, within seconds before the shutter snaps.  I managed to mutter a "thanks" as I walked back to my seat.  I felt worthless and later erase the photo (I try not to keep evidence of my faux pas). Within the whirlwind of training and my first five months in Kenya the moment has been forgotten...until now.  I'm at a local primary school trying to get a pen pals program started.  After my session with the class I sit in the headmasters office and make polite conversation until it's my time to leave.  The headmaster, slightly worried, admits he promised the students that I'd greet them.  I stand in front of a class of about 25 students and introduce myself, and assuming I'm done, turn to the headmaster for approval.  "Well actually, they just want to shake your hand",  he admits.  As I make my way from student to student, class to class I think about two things: 1) What kind of germs am I picking up?, and 2) They just want the individual attention of being able to touch me.  What worries me most is no one notices how incredibly awkward this is for me, or more-so that there's no shame in needing to touch the mzungu.  What is so great about a handshake anyway?  When asked if they are now happy a resounding "yes!" comes in unison.  I can't help but notice all the big, genuine smiles of their faces.  On the way home I contemplate the celebrity status that all volunteers encounter each time they step outside their homes.  I've had adults screaming at the top of their lungs so that I will greet them.  And children, hundreds of meters away, their mzungu sense tingling, as they peek out from behind bushes to yell "howww aree youuuuu?!?!"  I can't see them, but these little ninjas can see me.  As the freak-outs become more frequent (or more likely as I become more sensitive to them) I realize I need to get home fast before I loose it on a helpless kid.  Is this what celebrities go through on a daily basis?  Viggo, if you find yourself vainly searching the internet for any mention of your name and you stumble across this Peace Corps volunteer's blog: I'm sorry for disturbing you that Tuesday afternoon in a Laguardia airport bar.  It will never happen again.  Am I resolved yet?

14/10/10"Helen, come into my office."  The coordinator calls me from the other room.  This just minutes after I pitch my idea to help the fate of our CBO.  We are failing the community without money, without funding, and I realize this CBO will crash, 13 years after establishment, if it isn't helped soon.  I walk into his office, a young boy of about 7 stands.  His eyes big, brown, and gleaming.  The skin taunt against his undernourished body.  He recognizes me, and I him.  He came by the compound the other day, after everyone had left, and the door to my house was open and welcoming.  "Coordinator kanye?" he asks, trying to keep his distance.  But he's still a curious child and he eyes wonder into my home.  "Akia, aparo ni ne odhi dala." (I don't know, I think that he went home.)  He finally looks up into my eyes and flashes a smile, I'm taken aback by the grace of it, and all I can do is try to return it.  As soon as it began, it was over and the boy vanishes.  I'm back to my chair, thinking about that smile.  He appears at my door again, this time wrapped with confidence.  "Mia pesa." (give me money.)  He does not dare look me in the eye, instead he scans my gas cooker, my radio, my tupperware full of food, and a rack of unripened bananas..  My heart sinks.  I don't blame you little boy.  How do you explain to a child the reason you're here is more than being an American bank account?  You can't because it doesn't stop his stomach from grumbling, and the present, getting to tomorrow is all that matters to his family.  I clinch my teeth and look shamefully at the ground.  "On...onge pesa."  By the time I look up he's gone.   And at least he can tell his family that he asked.Back in the coordinators office I meet the boys sweet smile again.  "Helen this is what I'm talking about.  This boys mother is suffering from HIV complications and is very sick.  He's come to collect money so they can take her to the hospital in Oyugis town."  Coordinator hands him 200 shillings.  He's too young to sign the paper stating that he received the money.  I see this everyday.  I live in it and I work with it, but for some reason today I can't talk about it.  It's the smile, I can't crack it.  Is it childhood oblivion, or does it speak of wisdom?  Is he way too mature for a 7 year old, and the gravity of the situation is all too well understood?.  I should discuss it, I should cry, I should click my tongue and shake my head, but all I really want to do is smile and get back to work.  Because the next time I see him I want to be able to offer him something that he can really use.  That's all you can really do in the present, just keep smiling and work towards the future.The next morning during my run I see him standing alone on the path, waiting.  He follows me for several kilometers, our smiles contagious.  

Seasons in Kenya aren't necessarily associated with holiday sales at department stores and traditions involving mass consumerism and inevitable flight delays.  The driving force that moves Kenyans from one season to the next is the life-giving release of rain, or the lack thereof.  With it, if you work hard in the shamba, there is practically a guaranteed food source for your family and possibly even something to sell in the market.  But rain is a love-hate relationship here in Nyanza.  With each rains a sticky red mud is developed that has an affinity for the soles of each persons shoes.  And mopping the floor of your home can be a bi-weekly event.  Each day when thunder is heard collecting in the distance and each night when the drastically increasing patter of rain hits the tin roof fellow neighbors run to the fences and complain with a smile about the hindrances of rain.  But I know in the back of their minds they can sleep peacefully knowing the rainy season has extended one more day, and the fate of their shamba looks up once again.October in Nyanza province signifies the end of the short rainy season and the beginning of a difficult 3 months of little to no rain.  Although this year the short rains have lasted longer than predicted, I have not heard any complaints.   For me, there's nothing more perfect than laying in complete darkness and listening to the rains as I drift to sleep.  Because I'm probably the only person in this community who doesn't rely on my shamba, rains aren't at the top of my mind.  Instead I've found myself thinking about my favorite season on a whole different continent.  What I wouldn't give  to be able to set my clock back an hour and watch the sun set and rise at a different time than 6:30 every day.  To be able to stroll through a pumpkin patch and smell the aromatic organics of earth and straw mixing together.  During fall in North America the sun plays a different role than "intense".  It casts a kaleidoscope of colors through changing leaves and reminds me that there must be an end before rebirth.  A different kind of futbal is played, in which eating and drinking takes up most of the sport.  Later in the month nights get cooler and dark forms are made from the lights of freshly cut jack-o-lanterns.  This is my favorite time of year, when creativity allows you to become ANYTHING you want for just one night.  No matter what age you are, you're allowed to escape reality and let your inner child come to life.For me, as we enter "spring" and prepare for the unforgiving summer months in Kenya I am calmed by the fond memories I'm able to re-live.  But who knows, perhaps this season also could be my most favorite while residing along the equator.  

[16-8-2010]

Being here at my CBO for about 4 weeks I've begun to see the inter workings of the organization and it's relationship with the community it supports. Before I left for Kenya I had a general understanding of how Americans fund programs. With this concept, everybody needs a little seed money to get things running in the hopes that they will build a system that is self-sustainable. With that said, I must keep in mind that I am dealing with what seems like a totally different system. I am living on a continent compiled of countries so used to accepting donations that it seems almost rude, from an American perspective, not to donate to the orphan you see on tv. Since arriving I have been overwhelmed by the amount of aid pouring into the country. For instance, my house is plastered with USAID posters declaring the President's Malaria Initiative. I'm good buddies with the USAID coordinator in this region, and I can't help but to notice the songs people have been singing praising God for bringing the mzungu with her money. Did the miss the point when countries are supposed to stand on their own feet and start giving back to society, or have we been too busy writing checks to notice? There is absolutely nothing wrong with the notion of donating goods and materials, but at some point it's gotten twisted, became counter-intuitive, and absolutely ridiculous. It starts at the grassroots with small CBOs trying to make a difference. I get the feeling that the founders are surrounded by death, disease, and futility, and they are grabbing at anything to alleviate the situation, if only temporarily.  

Yesterday I attended the meeting of a powerful group of women. Together there were compiled of PLWHA (people living with HIV/AIDS), widows, caregivers of OVCs (orphans and vulnerable children), and overall concerned community members who are everyday struggling against the downfall of their society. They listed their strengths, and I was empowered just being in the same room as them. They have skills in chicken rearing, farming, basket weaving, pot making.... But they needed help raising more money, starting a business, and investing. "How can we only help her orphan child pay for school fees when this lady here has five orphans at home who also have school fees. We need more money." I've been in Kenya long enough to know when to read between the lines, but I couldn't in good conscience promise them anything that they weren't willing to work for, and I knew they'd work for it. "I don't think writing a proposal is advisable. Even if you do get funding, how will you get money for school fees for the next term? I am moved by your willingness to help each and every orphan. Would you believe me if I said you have the resources here to do it?"

Today someone from the German Development service came by to discuss a proposal of ours they want to fund. She tore it apart, and rightly so. The ideas were scrambled, the sustainability questionable, and the spending scheme wasteful. Idea were discussed, and in the end she took a tour of our quaint little office, left the check on the chairpersons desk, and jumped into her SUV, feeling like she'd done a good deed. If only she understood how many generations she was hurting in the long-run.

[16-8-10]

When I first got my assignment to Nyanza province one of my first questions as "What do the Luo's eat?" Rech and Kuon (fish and ugali) are staples at every meal, but what really got me excited were the stories of rows of pineapple plants on every farm, market stands tumbling over with sweet potatoes, and the promise of at least one avocado tree on every compound. The tomatoes here have a flavor that can't be cooked out, and ever the multiple varieties of bananas explore a wide spectrum of sweetness and texture. Yes, the fertile soil here produces a mecca of tasty foods that are guaranteed to make my next two years here a joy. And the sweetest joy of all? All these delicious foods have been gifts from my welcoming community members. My coworkers regularly supply me with avocados, cassava, bananas, and groundnuts. My supervisors daughter-in-law brings at least 7 avocados and some pineapples with each visit. (Now these things are huge and heavy. Child on back and fruits in hand, she happily makes the trip to Mikai - I remind her every time that she's the strongest Kenyan I know.) Visitors to the office come to greet me and take my order. The next day I'm surprised to find freshly harvested groundnuts from a local shamba. And just the other day while walking I received an avocado from a seller for the sake of friendship. So yes, friends and family back home, I am eating very well. I came here in the hopes of discovering something new about the culture, and I'm staying for the warmness of the friendships.

[3-8-2010]

I arrive late to a baraza (meeting) held by one of the assistant chiefs. I quickly park my bike and move as inconspicuously as the only mzungu in a 30km radius can to the shade of a magnolia tree. One man is standing, his opinion means everything in this moment. The chief quickly runs to me, "Ahhh Nyar Kakelo! I'm so glad you've come!" He points towards a bench among the other men for me to sit. My Dholuo limited, my part in this community not yet clear, and my contributions have been less than I've received. Still, here I am sitting with the men, perpetuating the myth that I deserve better treatment than the other women because of the country I come from (or is the hope that I give them?) I sit and listen as people stand and express their opinions, men and women alike. Two women, no older than 23, sit on the ground in the middle of the circle facing teh counsel of men. It becomes clear that they are trying to resolve a family dispute. What's odd to me, as an outsider, is that the women have not spoken a word. They have no say in the matter. My supervisor leans over and gestures to one of the women, "The lady's husband has recently passed away and two men claim to have the right to inherit her."  

Wife inheritance is an actively practiced tradition in Kenya, especially Luoland (Nyanza province). Members of the husbands family have the right to take on the role of the husband when teh wife is widowed. The tradition originally started to help the family deal with bereavement and income support. But it has evolved to a whole new level, giving the man the right to have sex, whether authorized or not, with their new wives. There are several social injustices involved, one being the reason I"m here. Usually no one really knows how the late husband died, and no one cares to ask.  

Straight-faced, the women stare past the show, as man by man, they stand to express their deepest concerns on the matter. They couldn't be less involved with the issue, but it's almost amusing. They let the men beat their chests as I imagine the dialogue running through their heads. "Do I have enough corn flour for ugali tonight? Looks like rain, I need to take the laundry inside. I forgot to pay moma Agnes for milk last week...." These women don't need my sympathy, they need support. As a public health volunteer I struggle to find my voice on this subject matter. There's a fine line between respecting traditional values and behavior change. My supervisor addresses wife inheritance as one of the reasons Nyanza province has the highest HIV rate in the country, yet he and I both sit and listen to the debate without objection. I'm not proposing to stop wife inheritance, I just want to families to become aware of what it is they are inheriting. Life is not as clear cut as wife + sex = marriage. Yesterday a local farmer dropped by to introduce himself and ask advice. He offered his prayers that I would have the insight to help the community. It was a beautiful gesture, so maybe to be the change that I symbolize in this community I need to start asking the questions which address the core traditions that the Luo's love to practice.

Day 5.  What was once called "my site" is now my community.  I walked about 5km to town everyday , trudging through mud and over streams to greet as many people as possible.  Older community members go out of their way to shake my hand, as the children stare in shock when I greet them in dholou.  For many of them, its the first time they've seen a white person and they don't know what to think about it.  For others, they've seen white people come and go and their homes are none the better.  I got a stern warning from an assistant chief, Americans are known to have money and although my two year commitment looks good on paper, I'll need to prove myself over and over.  He's warming up to me.  The greeting I've received here is unimaginable.  People are so geniounly grateful  for my presence.   I don't know what to think of it.  Theyu've been doing so much for me, I don't know if I'll ever be able to give it all back.  I work from both ends these past few days, meeting the chief and school kids, village elders and market sellers, I had lunch with the priest in Ringa, and visited the primary school on the same compound.  Word is spreading that I'm here for 2 years.helen

23-7-2010Rewind to 8 days ago, 36 Americans have a 30 minute interview conducted in the tribal vernacular of their respected region.  ONe of the many tests we are given to show we're ready for the unknown.  We celebrated our host families and thanked them for all they taught us.  Now fast forward, I compose these thoughts as I lay in bed, contemplating my next journey and trying to make sense of the last few days.  All 36 of us have come together to be sworn in, the culmination of the last 2 months of intensive training.  Our country director harps on the accomplishments we've made.  Not one of us fell into the pressure of our extreme cultural experiences.  We've come here at the ambassadors house to say goodbye.  It's a bittersweet moment.  The excitement is tangible  as our supervisors look on with pride.  We've only met them days ago, but projects are waiting and people are calling "where is the volunteer you promised us?".  The American volunteers I've met here all share the same needs to fulfill their obligations they've sworn to commit.  We've come together with the knowledge that we all intend to leave one day.  What we hope to accomplish can be described in emotional terms equaling the strongest friendships, unbreakable bonds, and intense loneliness.  All extremes that will bring us closer together.  The ambassador steps up and we pull our cameras to our faces.  We zoom beyond him, to the monkey perched on the roof of his house.  You can take the volunteer out of the village, but you cant take the village out of the volunteer.update that mailing address peeps:Helen McGuirk, PCVPO Box 545 40222 Oyugis, Kenya

PEACE.

28-6-2010

It's the phrase we use when things don't go quite right. When we don't know how to use American terminology to explain what just happened. When we're so exhaused it's best summed up in this two word expression. I'm in a Machakos hotel conference room listening to a nervous woman speak about living positively. The whole experience here is a contradiction. The noisey street below covers her frail voice, but we'll choke if we close the windows. The feedback from the microphone randomly kicks in, but when it's working properly it gives her a voice. The community health worker steadies her hand as she reads from her notes. The audiences attention is fading. This morning we waited for 20 minutes for our speaker to arrive. He got halfway through his presentation before we were shuffled off to see his work in progress. One hot matatu ride later 10 PCT and a few trainers find themselves at the bottom of one of Machakos' infamous hills. "OK we walk to the top from here." When you don't understand something here you can rule out sarcasm. And walk we did. Me and my vicious cold made it to the top to experience a beautiful view of the city and neighboring villages. Back in the conference room trainees are keeping occupied by exchanging specatcles, playing one orange/one cup (that's a new one to me) and chugging water to make the next bathroom break come sooner. One lone woman stands infront of us and explains her adoration of children and the absolute terror they go through when they loose their parents to AIDS. She gives them hope through toys. Something to occupy their minds. We flew from America, left our family and friends, and underwent days of training, stressing out comfort levels to the max to be here in the presence of a saint. We are here to train our prospective community...but WHY are we here? Welcome to Kenya. At this moment in training I feel like we've been given more opportunities that the total countries populous. Kenyan people face challenges everyday, and this finally hits me as we watcha group of high school students act out their everday lives for perfect American strangers. They've rehearsed, reviesed, and revisited their own live-changing moments just to be heard. We have so much to learn....The culture is more complex and complicated. Women carry a huge portion of the stigma, like a 10L just of water HIV is hauled around in the open, people see you coming and clear the pack. We're learning how to demistify myths and what we thought was changing the Kenyan way of life. A huge weight has just been thrown on us through training, citing all the roadblocks we're sure to encounter. Finally, a month into training we are realizing that it's not about chaning minds, it's about informing people to make the right decisions. We are tired, yet motivated, stressed, but excited, and we are anxious to get to site. Karibu Peace Corps Kenya.

Hello Friends,

We've arrived in training town and have been very busy in training each day. Kilimanjaro beams down onto me each morning during language class and the stars sprinkle brilliantly each night. I love it here: the people, the food (and I'm eating a lot of it), the atmosphere, and the friends. My host family is great. My baba is Masai (you'd prob recognize the tribe if you googled it). I have a 12 year old brother and a 7 year old sister and a cousin staying home from college break. i'm learining how to cook each day after training and wash my clothes. my moma is determined to make me a real kenyan woman. and my baba is determined to speak to me only in swahili ;) i pretty much lucked out with the homestay. we have running water, electricity 9though not this morning) and satelite tv. the only tv i watch is love spell which is a spanish soap opera and news. i'm pretty much tired from training and cooking so i go to bed around 9. The food here is great, but i never eat enough according to my moma. best of all, we go our site placement last week! i'm going to (ta-da): Makai. which is not on the map...it's in the nyanza province off the coast of lake victoria. it's located in between kissi and kisumu which are the major cities i'll be going to for shopping. im currently learning Dholou as my language and it's pretty much nothing like swahili but we're picking it up fast. i'll be working with people living with aids, orphans from aids, elderly people and school drop outs. apparently the group there has done a lot of good work there and my counterpart is awesome so i'm excited. plus there's a solar oven in my compuond which is just cool. im going to be doing a lot of baking. also the chief works inthe compuond that will live in so it's heavily guarded. nice.

otherwise, all is well here and although i'm so exhausted each day i' m so glad i'm here. also i got a phone 0723227250 it's for my coworkers to keep in touch so only call if emergency. or you can go online and get a cheap callign card. it doesnt cost anything for me to receive messages or calls, so do with you want with it, just note the 7 hur time difference. thank you to everyone who said they were sending packages and letters, i'll start sending letters soon. you have no idea how nice it is to think someone is thinking of you back home!

sending my love to all

-H

May 28 2010

Hamjambo! Following a long day of staging and two days of traveling, all the official Peace Corps Trainees arrived in Nairobi on Wednesday night. The flights were...long, but we hung in there. It was an amazing feeling to touch down in Kenya, and after years of anticipation I felt like we've been given a world of support. I have to be honest, I was pretty nervous the first day, but the people I'm with are an absolutely amazing support group. Just the fact that we are all going through it together has given us such a strong bond in a few days time. We've been at a hostel in Nairobi the past few days, going over safety, health, and language training. This place is amazing (note the internet hook-up, although we all have to sit outside by the router to get it--it's cold out, I can see my breath)! We have our own rooms with flushing toilets and TVs, but we don't spend much time in them. Sessions start at 8 AM (oh and all the food is very good, pretty much Westernized though). We could not ask for better people teaching us the language. The class I'm in now has about 5 people and the teacher is incrediably thorough, and he can definetly tell when I am lost. Funny side-note: I accidentally said my sister's name was Bill. He wrote it down and slowly backed away from the board as if it was contaigous yelling "hapana hapana! (no no!) I am so excited about all the training we're going to be receiving, we have been given such a great opportunity here, and it's much more organized and better than I imagined. We actually had some active volunteers meet us at the airport and stay with us these first few days, so we were able to ask them about a billion and one questions about their experiences. We started vaccinations yesterday and will continue onto more in a few days once the pain goes away :) Also got my malaria profylaxis...Doxycycline. Yeah, you can do your own research on that. Today I had my interview with the assistant country director and the man who will be training us in our technical skills, so they can figure out where to place me. Here's the cool news: We'll be learning Kiswahili until Wednesday of next week, at which time we'll get our site placements and start to learn the vernacular of where ever we're placed. Usually PCT get their placements about 2 weeks before they go to their site, which gives them little time to learn the language. So obviously we think this is an awesome change and we are so excited to hear about where we'll be living and what we'll be doing for the next two years. So: crash course in Kiswahili, then off to new language. Here, I wake up to a rooster each morning, although we've been waking up around 4 AM b/c of jetlag. For the first time today I wasn't dead tired mid-morning. Tomorrow we move onto our training site, which is in the slopes of Mt. Kilamanjaro, and apparently very cold. Yikes! I'll have to layer up, good thing I brought those smartwool socks. Then Sunday we meet and move in with our host family. Everyone is pretty nervous/excited about this transition, so it should be interesting. We actually spent most of the morning talking about what to expect from our host family, so I think that eased us a bit. pictures to follow, I'm too lazy to go back up to my room...

Also, I have 3 months where I can receive packages w/o having to pay to get them out. I have a list going, but I have a feeling I've forgotten an important item. But once I get the list finalized Mom, or someone else, can you please send me some items?

Sending my love to all,

-H

The strength to do what is right, the willpower to get it all done. The commitment of time and fortitude. The endurance to get through the tough times, and the wisdom to recognize the good in all. The knowledge to work through any problems I come across, and the understanding of how they arise.

Well I've made it to Philly for the night. Staging was all day today and we talked about our expectations and our worries for the next two years. The most important part is I've met some amazing people. We've all been through similar processes, and it's like we have some unspoken connection that we share. Tomorrow we fly out of JFK at 6pm for our first 8 hour flight to Europe. We will finally touch down in Kenya after another 8 hours and the reality will hit many of us for the first time. I'm just excited now, talking about our jobs and the training we'll receive for it. The tinge of nervousness comes and goes, but overall we're excited. I won't be able to check email/update for a week or so, but I want to you to know that I am very happy. This journey would be such a struggle if it were not for my network of family and friend's support, especially this past week. Thank you to all who have helped me in your own special way!!

Love to all

to keep you occupied:

Q: How many Peace Corps volunteers does it take to change a light bulb?

A: None, they don't change anything!

Hello, I'm cynical, but at least I'm fully aware of what I'm up against :)

Well don't be, I have all types of info here to help us keep in touch. Firstly, It is very important for my success that I find the balance between living a typical Kenyan lifestyle while also maintaining my connections back in the US. While I try to figure out the best transition for me, the best thing you could do for me is write write write letters!! The anticipation of waiting and feeling the tangible evidence that someone back home is thinking of me will be the best support you can give me.

- Letters ($0.98 for overseas mail) can take anywhere from 6 to 9 weeks to reach me, but please don't be discouraged!

- Number your letters and envelopes as they might arrive out of order, or not at all.

- Anything other than letters and postcards should be sent in bubble envelope mailers and can take upwards of 12 weeks to reach me. Boxes are often opened and are less likely to get to me.

- Peace Corps allows duty-free entry of packages for the first 90 days I'm in country. After that, I'll be required to pay a bribe to get my package. NEVER declare a value of $15 or more on anything you send me. The duty taxes I will be required to pay will be half my monthly salary. (On that note- don't send me anything valuable or irreplaceable because I may never get it.)

- Be sure to write "Air Mail" or "Par Avion" on the letter/package. For packages you can also write "Sister" and draw crosses, or claim fake contents like "toilet paper" or "feminine products". Most people won't care to open those to see if there's anything worth stealing. I did hear a funny story about a mother who actually sent toilet paper to her son.

After all of this if you still really want to send a package and you're wondering what Helen might like to find, I love chocolate and I have a wish list set up on Amazon.com for books, just search Helen M McGuirk.

During training (May 26 - July 22 2010) my mailing address will be:

HELEN McGUIRK, PCT

PO Box 30518-00100

Nairobi, Kenya

After my three month training session I will move and get a new address which I will put on this blog as soon as possible. If all goes well we will be sworn in as Peace Corps volunteers on July 29, 2010.

TELEPHONE CALLS:

Important: Contact the Office of Special Services if a family emergency should arise and you need to contact me immediately 800.424.8580, extension 1470

- You can reach me on my US cell phone up until May 24th.

- During training (May - July), I will not be accessible by phone unless it is an emergency.

- I have the opportunity to purchase a Kenyan cell phone if I wish, which I will be able to send and receive text messages and phone calls from both the US and Kenya. I'm not sure if I will get a phone, it will mainly be for me to keep in touch with the people I'm working with.

EMAIL/BLOG/FACEBOOK/SKYPE:

During the training period May - July, I will have very limited access to internet and thus this blog will not be updated very much. Peace Corps puts us through an intensive immersion program during this period of time. I can, however, still send and receive mail, which is why I spent so much time explaining all that above.

After training, my internet access will be more frequent, but still very limited as Health volunteers live in very rural areas. I may go several weeks to a month without being able to get online. So don't panic if I can't update, if there is a true emergency my family can call the Office of Special Services, number listed above. Enter your email address on the right-hand side of my blog if you want to get emails each time I update the blog (so you don't have to keep checking).

Skype name is mcguirkhelen, and by appointment only :)

We were asked to write an aspiration statement highlighting what we hope to accomplish throughout and after our 27 month service. Here's a little taste of me writing "I have no idea no idea what to expect but it's gonna be hella fun."

22 years old seems so long ago. That was how old I was when I first applied to Peace Corps, and also when I realized I couldn't accept my invitation to Zambia. In the three years I spent considering re-applying for Peace Corps I discovered a life lesson that cannot be taught, but must be learned: Patience is a virtue. I learned this while working as a lab technician in the ever-evolving field of microbial genetics. At this job I learned how to submit to failure and when that can be turned into success. But more importantly I learned how to look at the big picture, execute a plan, and trouble-shoot different scenarios. When I hear the word “aspiration” I gravitate towards long thought-out processes which require a lot of time and resources. I don’t expect to change the world in two years, or even have everyone respect my opinions, so I must be reasonable with my aspirations. When I become a PCT I plan on making daily, weekly, and monthly aspirations like: Having a conversation about purifying water in Swahili, or making an edible meal that my neighbors will enjoy. Exemplifying patience with my new job and culture will one day help me see the bigger picture and aspire to larger dreams as a PCV.

Goal One of Peace Corps: "Helping the people of interested countries in meeting their need for trained men and women". Dear future village of service, I am here for your needs. You will request someone like me with my skill set and I will do everything in my power to help with whatever issues you have. I will listen to your needs and evaluate the situation with a fresh approach. I expect to be let down by people who do not trust my ideas, but I will not give up on them. Communication, listening skills, organization, and persistence with a goal are the tools I'll be bringing with me. I do not agree with backing out of proposed ideas for the wrong reasons, instead I plan on demonstrating how to think outside of the box and learning when to try a different approach to a problem. Teaching sustainability will be my main focus as a PCV. My two year commitment ensures that I will not be taking a job from an able Kenyan, but that I'll be training people on how to take charge and actively support their village and health infrastructure.

Goal Two of Peace Corps: "Helping promote a better understanding of Americans on the part of the peoples served". Dear future village of service, I am here because you invited me. Because your children need to see that muzungu's can live comfortably in huts. Because you have so much to teach me about women's lifestyles and social norms in Kenya. And because we both want to make unassuming, life-long friendships. In this respect, my future village is just as daring to accept an American volunteer as I am for leaving my home country. In this world of preconceived notions I admire anyone who opens up their home for the benefit of their people. I look forward to showing others that not all Americans are rich and also openly discussing the concept of volunteering and why I am grateful for the opportunities given. I’m not worried that there will be a lack of questions, I’m only hopeful that I can answer questions about my American life and culture adequately enough to challenge people to think differently about their lifestyles.

I plan on taking full advantage of our language and cultural training; it will be our biggest help in easing into our new home. We are lucky enough to be constantly exposed to fluent Swahili, so taking as many opportunities as possible to interact and maintain relationships with my community will be advantageous for myself and others. I want to make it clear to my future community that first and foremost I am a student, and secondly a teacher. I am there to respect and learn their culture and maintain a better understanding of their issues that need to be resolved. With this I fully believe that building trust and compatible relationships is the best way to ensure that my project goals and their health is met and maintained.

I’m not sure of my exact project in Peace Corps, but I do know that the next 27 months will change my life forever. Not just the work I do, but the people I meet and the experiences I encounter will make me view the world in a different way. I look forward to this change and will embrace it with every occurrence. Where ever I end up after my Peace Corps service I will be able to apply the attributes I’ve learned towards my community and professional lifestyle by looking onto this experience with insight and knowledge that not many people are offered. I plan on being an asset to my community and making myself available to talk about my Peace Corps service, hopefully giving Americans a broader view of Kenyans and volunteering that most are not exposed to.

Writing this got me thinking about what I personally want to experience during my time in Kenya.

learn a reasonable amount of Swahili (I'm being practical here)

plant a garden and feed from it

see Africa's "Big Five" and visit some amazing parks

touch the Indian Ocean

learn to cook by fire

teach people how to teach others

represent my country and culture as a US citizen

learn and understand Kenyan and my communities myths/stories/religions/culture

keep a well-written journal and blog

take too many pictures

stay in good health and happiness

encourage woman's empowerment without breaking Kenyan cultural norms

inspire someone (just one) to help others through volunteering

teach and change attitudes about HIV transmission and simple hygiene practices

get a residential price for food/necessities, not a tourist's price

learn to listen about what people need and when to tell them their needs are practical

take a bucket bath under the southern hemisphere night sky

...sure to grow once I get there.

I guess if you've heard anything about Peace Corps then you've heard the application is unnecessarily tenuous. Honestly, you need an extensive medical review. I definitely don't want to be stuck in the middle of no where when my childhood asthma kicks in. Needless to say, here's an example of why good things come to those who wait...

Mid June 2009: I started considering Peace Corps again

6/23: Started online application

7/9: Application submitted online (individual references were submitted a couple days after that)

7/14: Emailed an updated skill addendum to recruiter for assignment 155 (Health Extension) in preparation for interview

7/15: Mailed fingerprints and background check to Atlanta office

7/16: Interview

7/24: Nominated for Sub-Saharan Africa leaving late May 2010, Health Extension program

7/31: Medical kit mailed from Atlanta office

9/2: Emailed scans of extra certifications I received for additions to my application

9/14: Peace Corps received medical kit

Late September: Dental clearance

October: Medical clearance (I can’t remember the exact date of these clearances). Medical clearance did take an extra week because one of the blood tests was forgotten. Once that was sent in I got clearance within a day.

October - December: Waiting…

12/17: Received email from placement officer asking for updated resume and skills addendum (for assignment 155)

12/18: Submitted updated resume and skills addendum

December '09 - March '10: Waiting…

3/24: Emailed placement officer, she was making-up my invite as she got my email

3/26: Received my invite to Kenya for the Public Health program!!

WARNING: These results may not be typical. Nervousness and incessant asking of "Where are you going/When are you leaving?" may occur. You may feel like you're being neglected, ignored, or taunted with "Toolkit updates", these are all part of the process and will disappear once you're invited :)

But really, I think these are very typical results, and if anything the process has made me a more patient person. I shall put that to good use in Kenya.

Follow this website to see the history of Peace Corps in Kenya and some related links to volunteer service: http://www.peacecorpswiki.org/Kenya

Although my exact projects are not set in stone (I'll learn more about what I'm doing once training has started and they find the best fit for me), here is the info I was given about what I'm to expect as a Peace Corps volunteer in Kenya.

PROGRAM: Public Health

JOB TITLE: HIV/AIDS and Hygiene Educators

DATES OF SERVICE: July 22 2010 - July 21 2012

PRE-SERVICE TRAINING (in Loitokitok): May 26 - July 22 2010

"But Helen, what are you going to be doing for 2 years?"

My primary duties include,

Goal 1: Communities will increase their awareness of health issues including HIV/AIDS/STI and will be mobilized to assess and prioritize their development needs.

Goal 2: Youth in school and out of school will take a positive action against the spread of HIV/AIDS/STI (ie, awareness, knowledge, skills, and attitudes).

Goal 3: NGO's, CBO's, and community groups will develop and implement behavior change interventions to facilitate household behavior change regarding health issues, including HIV/AIDS prevention, care and mitigation, life skills, home-based care, cargiver training, and orphan care).

Goal 4: Service providers will enhance their capacity to enable households to adopt domestic practices to counter health problems, such as malaria, malnutrition, diarrhea, HIV/AIDS and other infectious diseases.

There is so much more written, but we'll just have to wait and see what projects I'm given. The note that I think really will sum up my service is the introduction from the Peace Corps director for the Public Health Project which I found very inspiring, and I will probably end up cursing a year from now because nothing is as easy as it seems.

"...The 2007 Kenya AIDS Indicator Survey estimates that 1.4 million Kenyans age 15-64 are living with HIV, placing Kenya's HIV prevalence rate for 2007 at 7.4% (compared to 5.1% prevalence rate in 2006). Women continue to be disproportionately affected by the epidemic, representing nearly 3 in 5 of those living with HIV. In 1 out of 10 married couples, at least one partner is HIV-infected. These statistics indicate the urgent attention that needs to be paid in continuing to promote HIV and AIDS prevention activities....

"In addition to HIV/AIDS prevention, the Public Health project also focuses on general health and hygiene education, community outreach to heighten awareness of water and sanitation issues, environmental issues, and malaria control. Malaria is a major public health problem in Kenya. It is one of the leading causes of death of children under the age of five. It kills approximately one in eight children. 77% of Kenya's population of 34 million are at risk.

"...Youth Development. During the last post-election violence in Kenya, it was reported that the majority of the youth, who comprise over 60% of the currenty population, participated in the violence....It is time...to think about channeling the power of the youth into productive versus destructive ends....

"The goal of the Public Health project is to empower Kenyan communities, especially youth and people affected and infected by HIV/AIDS to improve their quality of life by assessing their own needs, and adopting knowledge, skills and attitudes that promote healthy behavior regarding HIV/AIDs/STIs, malaria and water and sanitation issues. The project will help youth to engage positively in their roles within family life, the world of work and active citizenship.

"The project activities you will be working on will focus mainly on areas ranging from developing and disseminating HIV preventive strategies--that hopefully will lead to behavior change, promotion of hygiene education, to prevent water borne diseases and malaria control, and to help promote small community water projects through Peace Corps small projects assistance...."

All this information can be credited to my assignment booklet and the Kenya Welcome Book. This book is found online as a PDF (http://www.peacecorps.gov/welcomebooks/kewb615.pdf) and has a huge amount of resources for volunteers and friends/family of volunteers.

That's it for now! I'll update later when I get info about my staging city and schedules.

-H

Peace Corps invites me to serve....Here's some info about Kenya and good reasons why I'm totally excited!!

LOCATION

The Republic of Kenya is in East Africa, and shares coast with the Indian Ocean. Kenya is bordered by Ethiopia (north), Somalia (northeast), Tanzania (south), Uganda plus Lake Victoria (west), and Sudan (northwest).

CLIMATE and GEOGRAPHY

The geography of Kenya ranges from the coast of the Indian Ocean to the Low plains which rise to central highlands. The highlands are bisected by the Great Rift Valley ; a fertile plateau in the east. The Kenyan Highlands comprise one of the most successful agricultural production regions in Africa. The highlands are the site of the highest point in Kenya (and the second highest in Africa): Mount Kenya, which reaches 17,057 ft and is also the site of glaciers. Mount Kilimanjaro (19,341 ft) can be seen in South Kenya on the Tanzanian border. Kenya has numerous wildlife reserves, containing thousands of animal species. Kenya also claims a portion of Lake Victoria, Africa's largest lake. The "Big Five" animals of Africa can also be found in Kenya: lion, leopard, buffalo, rhinoceros and elephant. The annual animal migration - especially migration of the wildebeest - occurs between June and September with millions of animals taking part. With the equator running straight through the country, Kenya has a tropical climate. It is hot and humid at the coast, temperate inland and very dry in the north and northeast parts of the country. There is however a lot of rain between March and May, and moderate rain in October and November. The temperature remains high throughout these months.

PEOPLE and HEALTH

The population has grown rapidly in recent decades to nearly 38 million. In 2007, it was estimated that 1.4 million Kenyans (ages 15-64) are living with HIV, with women representing 3 out of 5 people living with HIV. Life expectancy: 57.86 years. There is free primary education, and in 2007 the government issued a statement declaring that from 2008, secondary education would be heavily subsidized, with the government footing all tuition fees. Kenya is currently facing its worst drought in decades, with many crops and much livestock destroyed. The U.N. World Food Program recently said that nearly four million Kenyans urgently needed food. Religions: Protestant 45%, Roman Catholic 33%, Muslim 10%, indigenous beliefs 10%, other 2%

GOVERNMENT

Semi-presidential Republic; current President: Mwai Kibaki, Prime Minister: Raila Odinga. The President is both the head of state and head of government, and of a multi-party system. Executive power is exercised by the government. Legislative power is vested in both the government and the National Assembly. The Judiciary is independent of the executive and the legislature.

RANDOM FACTS

The country was named after Mt. Kenya.Capital: NairobiTime difference is GMT+ 3, or 8 hours ahead of EST (7 hours ahead of Eastern Daylight Time)Official languages: Swahili (Kiswahili), EnglishGained independence from the United Kingdom Deceber 12, 1963International calling code: +254 (holla at yo girl!)November 4th is a public holiday to celebrate the election of Barack Obama181 airports...come visit!Citations:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kenya

https://www.cia.gov/library/publications/the-world-factbook/geos/ke.html

Welcome! I've designed this blog to build a bridge between my home, friends, family and my country of service, Kenya. My main reason for attempting this blog is to abide by the last of the 3 main goals of Peace Corps: "Helping promote a better understanding of other peoples on the part of Americans". Without this third piece of the puzzle I'm afraid that when I return stateside my service will be left undone at home. So please, ask questions, get involved, and be patient with me :) I'm not sure how often I'll be able to update, so it will be an adventure for all of us!

Helen