You build a small wall in your heart, a barrier, to keep you from becoming emotionally overwhelmed. The wall protects you from the dark stormy waters of other people's reality. The cruelty, the helplessness, the poverty, and the sorrow. Yesterday, I glanced over that wall and dipped my fingertips in the turbid waters that lay behind it. And I will never be the same.
Sunday I moved to Nairobi in an area known as Jamhuri. On Monday I began my new placement in Kibera. Kibera is the largest slum in Kenya and the second largest slum in all of Africa. The population is approximately 170,000 with the majority of the residents lacking access to basic services, including electricity and running water. In Kibera I am working at a place called the Unity WEEP Center. The center is for women who are HIV+. Currently, the group of 10 women make jewelery, clothes, bags and other things to sell. The program aim is to not only bring in money for these women and their family, but also to teach them how to run their own businesses. The women also have a place to go to to support one another and share fellowship. On my first day there I spoke with the head lady Gladice about the history of the program and then helped make 4 bracelets out beads made of dyed bones. These bracelets will be sold for 200Ksh each ($2.50). The walk from my new placement to the center takes about 25 minutes along dirty roads, down alleys, and across some railroad tracks. The women that work there are all beautiful in their own way. The are, from what I gather, between the ages of 23 and 50 years old. At 3pm I walked home with another volunteer and housemate Hannah (who is working in a nearby school) and went to the Nakimatt Junction. The junction is the most western shopping center around, looking almost like a mall you could find in America. I met up with my Kenyan friends Jackson and Mike for some soda and laughs.
Yesterday was a trying day. At 10:30am I met up with Jane from the Unity WEEP Center and we went for a house visit. First we went to another woman name Jane's home. He entire home was smaller than my upstairs room at the Establishment. She is 35, was diagnosed as HIV+ in 2000, and has three kids. Her AIDs is rathe rbad and she currently has pneumonia. We said hello for two minutes and then the Jane's began chatting away in Swahili as I sat there. Then we began to chat. I told them all about my family and the Establishment (they said it sounds VERY organized- they couldn't do that in Kenya). We talked about the difference between the US and Kenya. They said that people here believe that if they move to America there will be no problems- people don't have problems in America. What I found most interesting was our conversation about adoption. They couldn't understand why Americans would want to come to Africa and adopt a child here. Since I am a strong supported of adoption and hope that one day I will be able to do so I said, "Well, because there are so many children out there without parents that if I am willing to be their mother, I should." (The world is already over populated!) But, they said, if you ARE capable of having your own children, why would you want someone elses? Well, maybe I would like to have one child of my own, and adopt another or two... They did not understand why I would takes a child that wasn't my own if I was able to have children of my own. After two hours of chatting we left and met up with Ruth another woman from the center. Ruth is also a graduate from WEEP (Women's Equality Empowerment Program) and owns a company sewing dresses. I was able to see her shop and chat with her a while. Afterward, we walked back to the center and had a snack for lunch. Next, we left the center with two of the students (the center also has a school with three classes for children ages 2-7, more like preschool/kindergarden). A seven year old named Austin and his nearly 3 year old sister Melody. We walked through the slum for nearly 25 minutes going to their home.I got to see the deep and true center of Kibera. Open sewers were everywhere. I slipped (Dang you Chacos!) and my foot slid into the sewer. Filth splashed over my foot and up my leg. WAY gross- I am not easily grossed out, but this was horrid. We arrived at their home and Austin unlocked the door. Their mather is one of the women from the center and she was at a conference. I watched as the children changed out of their school clothes and neatly put them away. Austin, actign as man of the house, filled a bucket with water, as Melody got the soap for me to wash my foot off. Melody is one of the cutest kids I have ever seen. She was asking Jane in Swahili if I could stay for tea. The four of us walked aroudn the building (which involved NOT falling into a large pit and jumping from rock to rock) to another woman's home. Here I met Elizabeth. She has three kids and when she became sick 3 years ago her husband left her. Jane said when they met her she was close to death and couldn't walk. She struggles to find money to feed her children and send them to school. She is very weak and rarely leave the house. How is she to make money? While I was sitting in Elizabeth's home looking at all the Obama pictures on the wall as the chatted in Swahili, I started to crumble inside a bit. I began to truly imagine her life and it was overwhelming. We prayed together and I took a photo with her in front of her home. Later that evening I came home to find my housemates watching a movie which I was inevitably sucked into. It was called, "The Rise and Fall of Ida Amin." It was all about that Ugandan dictator and child soldiers- horrible, absolutely horrible. At the end of the film I could not stand it any longer. I went into my room and cried. And cried.
Today I went with Jane again to the center. I played with the kids a bit and sat down to make 7 bracelets. While I may have complained normally about sitting around and making bracelets, I welcomed the silence and simplicity of the work. Tomorrow I will go on some more house visits. The center does not have much planned for me, so I believe I will stay with them two weeks and then move on to another project. We shall see.
Until then, thank you for your love and support.
And never, EVER forget how lucky you are in life.
Hugs and Kisses,
Kris
