Kisumu Reflections

What a lovely trip to Kisumu. As Kenya's third largest city, it offers many western comforts that I miss while living on the island. Refrigeration, ice, food that isn't ugali (more on that one later) - it was like being on another planet. I also noticed the abundance of wazungu! Clearly a popular tourist destination... so much so that the sight of a mzungu doesn't compel local men to propose to any foreign woman they see on the street. It made me realize just how much attention I get in Kaswanga.

As many of you know, I pride myself in the amount of proposals I've received. By my 18th birthday I had been proposed to three times. So what if they were all from complete strangers. For someone whose own father has deemed her unmarriageable, I'm rather proud of myself. Since arriving in Kenya that number has multiplied considerably - and if goat offerings were engagement rings, my hands would be full. It got to the point where it became annoying. I couldn't go anywhere without someone asking me if I was looking for a husband, and if that husband could be him. But then I met Denae, my Peace Corps friend, and I realized that the odd proposal is nothing to be annoyed about. After 10 months in Kenya, she has made such an impression on the locals that she can barely leave the house anymore! School principles and NGO presidents want to marry her. The banker slips her notes that say "I love you." The pharmacist wants to clip her fingernails. The fake wedding ring trick has proved ineffective, as polygamy is very much in vogue in Luo Land. And I thought I was attracting attention!

Even though I received a lonely one self-invitation from a man in the supermarket wanting to "join me back in Canada", Kisumu was a lovely change from village life. I met some wonderful people from all over the world, discovered a new city, took a hot shower and finally bought myself a Kenyan kanga - the multi-purpose fabric worn by every woman in the country. It can be a head scarf, a dress, a wrap around skirt, an apron. You can even twist it into a ball and place it on your head to balance buckets. GENIUS! When I wear it, I blend right in... really.

Life in Kaswanga

I just realized that I've given very vague details of life in Kaswanga, and I'm sure many of you are confused as to what I'm doing here, what brought me here, etc etc. Here are some details!

Kaswanga is Luo village on Rusinga Island located on Lake Victoria. It is a rather isolated village. Everyone lives in a mud or cement hut

and most people have several huts on their property where extended family members live. I live with Ezekiel

and Lydia Tito, their two children Eda and Javier, Jane the houseworker, Ezekiel's brother Moses and another

brother and his family. I'm not sure of the other brother's name, but I'm going to guess it's Peter

... most people are named Peter here. I live in my very own mud hut, and it has become my home. It's pretty cozy! There is no electricity and no running water, but it's amazing how quickly I got used to life without a blowdryer and bathing in Lake Victoria (probably a bad move, what with the bilharzia and all.) I am woken up every morning at 6:30 by not only roosters, but also chickens, a dog, two cats, one cow and about 10 goats. I can now do an amaaaaazing goat impression.

I came to Kaswanga to work with Friends of Rusinga Orphans and Widows Group. This organization is a feeding program for 25 students who come to the Tito's home everyday

for lunch. Most of them are orphans or only have one parent, and this is likely their only meal of the day. Everyday I serve the children lunch, teach at the Agiro Primary School, work on the sweet potato farm and help prepare the food. Island life is pretty relaxed here, so I would rarely do all of those things in one day.

And that is what has brought me to this quiet island village! There are very few wazungu (foreigner, plural) passing through. I confirmed this today while flipping through the local Visitors Book. Aside from one girl from Winnipeg (strangely enough, someone other than me) most of the "visitors" were from Kaswanga...

I hope that has cleared up any confusion! More details to come soon!

Notes from Kaswanga

Ok, so I'm not actually in Kaswanga. Since the village doesn't have electricity, I had to take a piki piki, the local motorcycle public transportation into Mbita to find an internet cafe. But anyways. I've gotten over my culture shock and am very happy to be here. My mud hut has it's charms, and looking at the stars when there are no streets lights is absolutely breath taking. I also met an American who has been living in Kaswanga for the last 8 months. It's nice to have a genuine friend who has no interest in marrying me or being taken back to Canada. Now that I've relaxed a bit, I've noticed some things that really make me appreciate this island village.

1. The way everyone laughs at me and yells mzungu (foreigner, or in my case, white lady) every time I walk by.

2. The dress. Many things have reached the Nyanza province much later than in North America - the cassette tape, for example, or negative attitudes towards polygamy. My personal favourite is the shoulder pad. Whether in Kaswanga, Mbita or Homa Bay, you don't have to look too far to find a woman wearing a shoulder-padded shimmery ball gown. I just don't get it.

3. The attitude towards warmth. This is actually a general Kenyan thing. It's 30 degrees here, I'm sweating like never before and everyone else is wearing a winter coat. I'm starting to wonder if I'm the one who has temperature issues.

4. Everyone spontaneously changes their clothing after lunch time. It's as if they go to bed wearing what they've had on all afternoon, wake up, hang around in those clothes for a few hours than SURPRISE! New outfit!

I have also noticed that my idea of work does not at all match that of Kaswanga. My first day my job was to rest. The second day I picked rocks out of a bag of beans. After 30 minutes I was told to rest. I've been begging for more to do, so yesterday I went to Agira Primary School and taught some English and Social Studies classes. I get the impression that the staff didn't actually need any more help, but they were happy to have an extended tea break.

That's all for now. Expect more updates soon!

Nairobi to Rusinga

Oh, the romance of the road - wait, isn't it supposed to be "the romance of the rails"? Granted, travelling by bus isn't nearly as inspiring as by rail. There's nothing more soothing than the steady chug of the train - but there was something to be said for a front row seat on the overnight bus from out of Nairobi, where I sat back and watched the moonlit Kenyan scenery pass me by. A bit dramatic? Perhaps. But that scenery was the only thing distracting me from my rather obese neighbour's invasion of my personal space, and the fact that the 6 hour journey to Homa Bay actually took 10. As Peter Moore, my favourite travel author warned me, the African timetable truly is a work of fiction.

Getting to Homa Bay was only step one. From there, I took a matatu to Mbita. 20 km and 3 AND A HALF HOURS LATER I arrived in Mbita, where I waited for

Ezekiel, the man who runs the Friends of Rusinga Group. We hopped on a motorbike and headed to the Kaswanga village on Rusinga Island. That was quite the journey.

So I've been in the fishing village of Kaswanga since Tuesday. The scenery is wonderful - there are trees everywhere, I'm within a five minute walk from the beach, and the sunsets are breathtaking. And I finally found the village bathing spot! I can't tell you how badly I needed that beach bath this morning! But to be honest, culture shock doesn't begin to describe how I feel. I had heard this place was rustic and isolated, but I hadn't expected

it to be quite so... well... rustic and isolated. It will take me a while to get used to my mud hut, as well as having to hire a motorbike to get to Mbita everytime I need electricity. But Ezekiel, his wife Lydia and their family are incredibly hospitable, and the people of Kaswanga are very friendly (even if my grasp of the Dholuo language is minimal).

So for those of you who were worried about my first long distance journey across Kenya, I am safe. Thanks Kirsten and Phil, for making sure I departed from the Akamba bus station safely. Paul and his brother took very good care of me, and I got two very enthusiastic double-hand waves as I drove away from the station! Thanks again for your hospitality, and thanks Mags and Josie for taking the blame (on a few occasions) for my smelly feet, and for reminding me that you're never too old to sit in the back of the family station wagon, wedged between two kiddy seats singing "John Jacob Jingle Heimer Schmidt." Good times!

One Week in Nairobi

I've spent the last week in Nairobi with the wonderful Krymusa family - Kirsten was my high school English teacher who lives here with her husband Phil and two daughters Mags and Josie. Thanks to their amazing hospitality, I've had a great time getting to know the city while getting my bearings in Kenya (and my parents can sleep at night knowing I'm safe.) And their calm neighbourhood, Gigiri, is a great escape to the craziness in central Nairobi. After a week with them, I feel fully prepared to venture out on my own! Here are some thoughts on Nairobi.

First impressions of Nairobi

Friendliness of passers-by on the street: A+ for enthusiasm to the inhabitants of Gigiri! A simple smile is often met with "hello, fine thank you, how are you!!"

Public transportation: the matatus are always a treat. I can risk my life for a mere 50 cents just getting into town, whereas most extreme activities like bungy jumping or sky diving can cost hundreds of dollars for just one go. Their decor is very impressive, what with their sparkly stickers and tassled curtains. And who can miss those names, like Hustler and Beyonce, for example. Rumour has it even Celine Dion is circling the streets of Nairobi.

Average speed of pedestrians of central Nairobi: glacial.

Security: For the most part I feel pretty safe, especially in Gigiri. Most security guards here are heavily armed, and there is a gate every few meters to keep out unwanted traffic. Although, they seem to open for almost everyone, and I do

wonder how effective they are when the guard keeps it open to leave his post, take a nap, or my personal favourite, sit in the booth and stroke his cat.

There's much more to tell about Nairobi, but I have a bus to catch to Rusinga Island! I'm heading to Lake Victoria for a few weeks to work with the Friends of Rusinga Orphans and Widows Group. (www.friendsofrusinga.org) I'm

very much looking forward to a taste of rural Kenya!

Jambo!

Hello everyone! Jambo!

So here I am in Kenya. Sorry for those of you who still think I'm in Spain... or in France for that matter. I've changed my plans a few times several times in the last few months and have not been very good at keeping you up to date. Thank goodness for blogs!

So what am I doing here? Africa has been on my mind for quite some time. The grey European winter was getting me down. I wanted to do something different - something outside the eat-drink-eat-drink routine I'd gotten used to in Europe (don't get me wrong - it's great, but I've had enought pastries and pintxos to keep me satisfied for years.) It all goes back to one fateful afternoon in December, I was sitting in a cafe in Bordeaux wondering where I was going with my life (I'm still working on that one...). I had just decided not to do the second semester of my exchange, and my only plans were to work in San Sebastian for a few months. At the very moment that I was writing in my journal about going to Africa, Toto came on the radio serenading me with their 1982 hit "Africa". HOW COULD I ARGUE WITH THAT?? For those of you who aren't familiar with this masterpiece, here is the music video :

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lu5PdI52heY.

Thanks Toto, for inspiring me to take some time to do the things I never haa-a-a-aaa-a-a-aave.

My plans are very up in the air at this point - I won't even tell you what they are, since I clearly have trouble sticking to them. All I know is that I'll be in East Africa until I run out of money, and luckily for me the Canadian dollar is looking pretty good compared to the shilling. No matter where I end up, I promise to provide a steady stream of stories from Africa. Enjoy!