Welcome, welcome in our class!

It's been quite some time since I last updated this blog, due to such bad excuses as lack of time, lack of concentration etc.. Anyways, I'm back. I think it's about time that I tell everyone a bit about the work that we are actually doing here in Kenya.

Right now the four of us are volunteering in a place called Mathare Worship Centre. This centre holds a primary school, a daycare, a microfinance program and a clinic for testing and check-ups of HIV patients. We've been working mostly in the school and also a bit in the daycare.

The school is open from 7 in the morning to 5 in the afternoon. It houses a nursery class, a pre-school class, and 1st to 6th grade. The kids usually go crazy when they see us, and they sometimes end up fighting over which classroom we should be in. When we finally enter one, we're usually met by this welcoming poem:
"Welcome, welcome in our class!
Happy to see you,
happy to hear you,
in our class!
Welcome, welcome in our class!"

I've been assigned as the assistent teacher of class 2, a great group of fifteen 7-8 year-olds. They're the best kids ever, kind, crazy, compassionate, clever, I've really fallen in love with every single one of them.
Their classroom is about 3 times 3 metres in size, and holds three benches and a blackboard which tends to fall down. The teachers come and go a bit as they please, so the kids have lots of free time. That's when I step in, to play lion or crocodile, sing songs, draw every animal known to man on the blackboard and anything else I can do to brighten their day.

I might not be a trained teacher, or ever have a lot of experience with kids. But my hope is that for these particular 7-year-olds, having a crazy Norwegian redhead imitating a lion might break the routine of an otherwise discouraging reality.

Thank you, Lord, for giving us rain

As I am writing this post, I am listening to the splashes of heavy rain hitting African soil. Being from Bergen, the rainy town, this might seem quite obvious and even obnoxious. Here in Kenya however, every drop of water that finds its way to earth is celebrated. The reasons are overwhelming:

For several years, Kenya has been stricken by on-an-off periods of drought. Many of us might remember the East Africa food crisis in 2006, which was caused mainly by lack of water. Scarce resources and sky-high pricing on basic foodstuff led 10 % of the Kenyan population into a state of dependence on food-aid from the government and organizations.

This year the rains again marked their absence. Due to a general lack of water the government has implemented rationing, and some areas have been left completely dry. As the smell of wet dust now reaches my bedroom window, I am hoping and praying that a change may be on its way. I can imagine the consequences:

1: Water rationing would stop and we would now be able to shower and flush the toilet daily, as opposed to being limited to thursdays, fridays and saturday mornings.
2: We would no longer struggle for hours to get red dust out of our clothes.

but more importantly...

3: My sister Nana would no longer have to carry a 20 kg jerrycan one kilometer each way to have water for cooking and cleaning.
4: A lady, like many others, who used to earn her living selling water in Mathare slum, would again have an income to sustain herself and her daughter.
5: Thousands of Kenyan farmers would be able to grow their crops, keep their animals alive, and in turn have the security of waking up every day knowing that they will have something to eat.

Knowing all this, Bergen autumn rainfalls seem like such a waste...

The mzungu who fell...

Tumefika - We have arrived.

And after almost a week of intense coursing, visits to churches and universities, and learning how to adapt to a whole new lifestyle, we finally got cellphones and internet yesterday.

 

Life in Kenya is great! Despite the fact that we usually lack running water and electricity (eg. warm water, quote Audhild: "Oh, the water's warm today! Wait, now it's not, oh ouch now it really is!!"), I am feeling right at home it this red, dusty land.

 

As mentioned we have been very busy, so much that I'm already forgetting what we have actually been doing. However I'll try to bring up a few highlights.

 

First a few comments on the place where we are staying, in my room there is:

1 Audhild

2 Beds

1 Desk

1 Chair

2 Mosquito nets

2 Suitcases that form...

1 Table/ Closet

... and a whole lot of shoes.

 

Next door we find Ragnhild and Miriam, and the four of us share a bathroom with a toilet and three showers. In the next house we have our kitchen, and there are a few other buildings around, housing staff's apartments and offices. 

 

Today something happened that I have been waiting for for 6 whole years. I finally got to meet my Kenyan sisters Nana and Sarah in their home country. It was just incredible to see them approach me on the road outside the FOCUS centre. We spent the whole afternoon together, eating lunch and catching up. They even joined our class. The feeling of reaching this moment after such a wait is just incredible, I am still waiting for the reality of it to strike.

 

Now, one of the most memorable incidents so far occured when we were walking back from Naivas Supermarket, just a few kilometres from our home. We had bought quite a few heavy things, so I was carrying a plastic bag on my back. As we were walking I was sure that I saw a MYSA girls, and I stared at her so hard that I didn't realize my shoe got caught in a piece of wood and I fell straight on the ground! Leave the fact that this was in the middle of rush hour and that as wazungu we already had a lot of attention. The result was 200 Kenyans turning their heads to see the mzungu who fell. I think I'm well known in the neighbourhood by now.

 

At least this experience sirved as a culture shock coping skill developer. In a new cultural setting, as one falls and makes a fool of herself, the only thing one can really do is get back up as quickly as possible and laugh the whole thing off. And anyway, being covered in red African dust from head to toe is a part of the Kenyan experience.