I don’t think I was entirely prepared for what these next two days would hold when I got up stupid early on Thursday morning.
Caitlyn and I were taken by Joseph into Junction (a mall in the city) to meet the NVS crew who were taking us on outreach and the other volunteers who were joining us.
After a quick stop at Java to caffeine-up we were all bundled into a couple of vans and off we went. Our first stop was a look out point where we stopped to, well, admire the view and it was pretty gorgeous. There were some shops selling souvenirs, a coffee shop and flushing toilets! Yes!
Back into the vans and off to KCC slum. We were greeted by lots of smiling, happy children, waving and running beside the vans. We stopped at the school that had been set up for the children and were met by Marcus, the Kiwi who started the program. Also there were our Olympic rowers, Juliet Haigh and Rebecca Scown and ex-All Black, Norm Maxwell who were volunteering there. Marcus gave us the run down of how everything had been set up, what the slum was like and who lived there and introduced the team who worked with him. We were then split into two groups, one to stay with the kids and the other to walk down to the slum for a ‘tour’ with Marcus.
Walking down to the slum we met some kiddies and one little boy (must have been about 5 years old) took my hand and walked all the way there and back with me. He was just so sweet. He was very quiet and calm and simply wanted to walk with me. So precious.
Marcus told us we could take photos but not of the adults, just the ‘streets’ and kids. In we went. It was like a little town with tin/corrugated iron rooms for families to live in. They were set up so that there were little paths or streets in between. Of course they had all dirt floors, dark, no water or power and were tiny but they seemed to have a good system going. We were taken to one room where one of the women from the woman’s group that had been set up, showed us the jewelry they sell and how they make it. It is made out of paper from magazines, posters etc. They cut it on an angle to make a long triangle then roll it tightly from the thicker end right down until it is at the skinny end and looks like a tiered bead. The colours depend on the paper and quite a few of the same sort are made from the same paper. They are varnished then strung together with other tiny beads or just the paper ones to make bracelets, short and long necklaces and earrings. They were gorgeous. I bought a blue bracelet and a pair of black/white earrings for something like $4.
My little buddy was with me the whole time of course. I found out his name was James. He helped me choose my jewelry J
We walked around a little more and were shown where about 5 houses were completely lost due to a fire that got out of control.
Although it was a slum, it was well set up and the people seemed content enough. Some have jobs at the local factory or do washing and cleaning and of course, sell their jewelry. It was sad to think that people had to live in those conditions though but at least some were sending their children to school to have a better chance in their lives. Others prefer to keep their children at home to help with the chores so it is a case of convincing the parents that in the long run, the children will be better off getting an education.
We walked back to the school where James let go of my hand and was about to run off when I called him back, bent and gave him a huge hug. He seemed a little hesitant at first but then returned my cuddle. Bless.
While the other group went to the slum we stayed with the kiddies and outside sat with them helping them do whatever they were doing; some were reading, others were drawing on individual chalk boards, and still others were reciting words from a book. There was a film crew interviewing Rebecca, Juliet and Norm so they filmed as all the children gathered around them and Rebecca read them Hairy McClary then The Wheels on the Bus. She said “oh, it’s a singing book” and kind of looked around for help so I said I would help (of course I would!). The kids loved it and asked her to do it again so they could learn some of it. When that was done I wandered over to the film crew and asked what they were filming for. They said it was for an NZ current affairs program, Close Up. I told them I was Kiwi too and was really excited when I knew Rebecca and Juliet were coming to Kenya as I was hoping to meet them. Then I was asked if they could interview me too. Well, gee, ok, if you insist, heh. It is going to be on TV in NZ the week of the 19th November, I’m going to be famous! Well, by association anyway. Afterwards we got a photo with all the Kiwis and then I wandered over to say hi to Norm. Typical.
It was time to go and we all piled into the vans again. After furiously waving at all the gorgeous little ones and saying goodbye to those working there we went to lunch at a small bunch of shops. Hot dog for me thank you.
And now off to Hell’s Gate! Don’t worry, it wasn’t some sort of sacrificial site or anything, it is a National Park of mostly savannah and a large gorge. Wildlife is conserved and managed in the huge 68km2 park. We were told we might see buffalo, gazelle, warthogs, zebra, baboons and giraffe and a host of different birds so I was quite excited. The idea was to ride on bikes to the gorge from the entrance gate but I always knew that just wasn’t going to happen and had already chosen to ride in the van. Caitlyn was feeling a little ill so came in the van too. Turns out it was the best decision. It wasn’t long until people started realizing that the bikes weren’t exactly state of the art and were quite difficult (and painful!) to ride. Many were very sore by the time the cycling was over. In the meantime, I lazily took photos from the van of buffalo, zebras and warthogs. I was hoping I would see a giraffe in the wild; that would be fantastic.
The van stopped, “why?” I wondered until I saw it. Pride Rock!! The rock that is depicted in Disney’s Lion King was right there. Awesome! A whole bunch of volunteers decided to climb to the top (crazy people) and recreate lifting Simba into the air. Unfortunately it had to be a rock or some other substitute as no lion cubs were available just then. I was content to stand in front of it for a photo op. After yelling at everyone that it was time to go, those who were riding (basically everyone but me, Caitlyn and now Amber) headed off again.
At the end people rested and those who wanted to went on the walk through the gorge. I stayed to keep Caitlyn company and wandered around to see if could spy any baboons. Unfortunately they evaded me but I did managed to see a couple of velvet monkeys slinking around. Smile monkeys!
Everyone came back and they had to ‘get on ya bike’ and head back to the entrance while I, once again, stood up in the van that had a pop-up roof and readied my camera for any exciting wildlife that needed to be captured on film. Oh my God! A giraffe!! The van stopped so we could admire him gracefully strolling along. He started walking towards us then stopped when he noticed this large while animal on four wheels up ahead. He turned and walked to his right while we all gushed and took photos and videos. He was so elegant the way he glided along. So happy. Giraffe in the wild; tick!
We got back to the entrance of Hell’s Gate, collected the weary and headed off to our accommodation for the night.
We finally arrived at the guesthouse that many had said was a former prison. Just as a horror movie would dictate, the sky opened up and it started to rain, complete with thunder and lightening. What a way to arrive! We were all allocated our rooms – it was strange that Caitlyn wasn’t going to be there with me, I’ve gotten used to having her in the same room. I told her I’d miss her as she headed off to her “cell”.
It was decent enough with a double bed, mosquito net and a flushing toilet in the same room as the shower. Yep, that’ll do nicely thank you.
We went to dinner where there was a buffet of rice, stew, chapatti, vegetables and delicious potatoes.
By the time we got back to the ‘prison’ everyone was stuffed and lights were out very soon. It was all very comfortable; little did I know how uncomfortable I would be the next day…
Lala Salama
Friday
Up early and off to breakfast. Fried chips in the morning? ok, sure, as long as I can have tomato sauce with mine, tea with jam and bread (there’s a song in that) and a very spicy samosa. Some others weren’t particularly impressed with the meal and lamented the fact that there was no juice. Me, happy to get what I’m given thank you very much.
We headed back to our accommodation to bag flour and lard to give to the families at the slums we were about to visit.
And we’re off again, this time to one of the many IDP camps – Internally Displaced People.
A very brief overview: During the violence of the 2007 elections thousands of people were killed and about 600 000 people were left homeless and lost everything they had. They only had the clothes on their backs and hopefully their families. Many camps were set up as little communities for those who were in this situation. We were told that the government doesn’t acknowledge these people at all although I don’t know enough yet to comment intelligently on that.
Our guide (Kush from NVS) told us there were 51 families in this particular camp and they face a daily struggle with getting food, with disease and trying to generate any sort of income. They live on land that belongs to others so they can not erect any permanent structures and are living in hovels that are put together with plastic, sticks, material, anything they can find. One woman invited us in to her ‘home’. It was, of course, dark and dirty but stood up well. Her mother-in-law was lying in a bed but still greeted us. She was very sick and struggling to get better. The rest of the abode had a dirty old couch and some other random pieces. When it rains they struggle even more as the water drips or runs through and soaks anything they have. They do have a supply of running water from a large tank, which is wonderful. Of course they have no running water or electricity in their tent homes. Many are battling to stay well or find some food to eat. We were taken to where they have some goats and Kush started to explain how that works for them but by then the floodgates had opened and my heart broke. I cried for the pain and suffering these people are going through, for what they have lost, for the seemingly impossible situation they find themselves in every morning when they wake up. I cried for the children who have never known anything different and who now have a limited future. I cried for the thousands of people in this beautiful country who suffer in the same way.
We wandered back to the vans and went to see the makeshift school that has been set up for the children. There were two classrooms where children were learning various things from the two teachers there. Women were trying to sell us things but I only had 5 shillings on me so couldn’t buy anything. We went back to the vans where the teacher who had taken half of us on a tour called out people’s names off a list as they came up and received a bag of flour and one of lard from us. It was so sad to see these proud people coming to take our meager offerings. The mood quickly lightened though with the appreciation of many of the woman who, when we had finished distributing what we had for them, sang us a thank you song and danced. I of course had to join in and soon woman were dancing with me, putting their arms around me and thanking me. Others joined in and it felt like a party. I gave lots of the women hugs and we talked as best we could. It was time to go but I didn’t want to. As the others got in the van I stayed as long as I could with a group of women, dancing and talking. By the time I got into the van I was blowing them kisses and getting them back. They stayed waving until we were out of sight. It was the most heart-breaking and heart-warming experience I’ve ever had.
Our next stop was to be the garbage slum and that is exactly what it was, a slum set up on a garbage dumpsite. It was almost impossible to fathom. We met an Irish volunteer, Ross, who was working with the people there as best he could, trying to get sponsorship for the children to go to boarding school, helping with medical supplies and generally trying to get them through life as best they can.
He took us to one ‘home’ and it was really tough. Flies assaulted us as we went through the make-shift door, rotten food was dumped on the ground, an elderly couple stood to greet us outside their room which had a piece of material for a door. Ross explained that they often went without anything to eat, that the father was losing his sight and now couldn’t work and that the mother was sick too. It was hard to process.
We heard that on garbage days, the residents of the slum will jump on the back of the truck and try to fossick through what they can see before it is dumped so they get the best of what is there. When it is all dumped, families will go through everything to see what there is to eat or use and take it back to their little space. It is very dangerous for girls in the slum and there are lots of rapes and assaults. As there is no security, men can just walk into any space.
I asked Ross quietly why the families continued to have children if they knew they wouldn’t be able to properly care for them. He replied that unfortunately it is sometimes a result of rape or of prostitution or simply because they are bored. They hope to introduce some family planning and sex education to the slums as soon as they can. To keep the young girls safe, many of them are sponsored to go to boarding school where they stay during the term. A big sponsor has recently pulled out so they only have funding for a number of the children until the end of the year when, if they can’t secure money for school fees, the kids will have to leave school and come back to live in the slum.
I will definitely be sponsoring at least one of the children as soon as I get back to Australia. If you are interested in doing the same (approximately $700 AU a year, paid in 4 installments), I can put you in touch with Ross.
Again we handed out flour and lard to families whose names were being called out by a very bossy, matriarch. This time however, there wasn’t any joy, simply resignation and a dull acceptance. It was incredibly sobering.
This is not living, it is barely surviving. I vow to never complain about what I don’t have, only to be thankful for the incredible good fortune that I was born into a situation that allows me to prosper and make something of my life. I don’t know why the dice rolled in my favour and not in theirs or why I am able to simply able to walk away from these confronting scenes but I will forever be grateful.
It was a quiet ride to lunch. We ate then started on the long journey back to Nairobi and our homestays.
These two days have been incredibly eye-opening. I have seen poverty before when travelling to Chile and Venezuela but have never walked through it or met its victims. It is cruel and unforgiving. Be thankful for your blessings everyone. We are the lucky ones.
