Using the Computer at Kale Childrens Library

Toto sent me these photos of drawings made by a talented child who comes to Kale Library to use the computer donated last year.

Nairobi

Nairobi. I have a love/hate relationship with Nairobi. Riding a bicycle here is harrowing, but a 20 minute bike ride to Eastleigh in contrast can take 1 1/2 hours on a matatu (bus) because of congestion. I can ride through Westlands with its spacious homes, shaped shrubbery, and blooming flowers, or to Pimani, Eastleigh, Kibera, or Githerai where barely a tree or patch of green exists and the only color is the occasional bright Kanga worn by Kenyan women.

Space is at a premium in Nairobi.  There are rich neighborhoods such as Karen, where one family can share a huge house with outbuildings, horse barns, and colorful gardens. However, almost everyone I met lived in a room just big enough to put a bed, a table, and a chair. Even these items were so crowded that one could not actually walk through the room. More like scoot or slide within the 6 inch space between the furniture. In most instances, 2 or 3 people shared that small flat.

Nairobi is home of the Arts and talented Kenyans gather here to show off their skills. Within a 10 minute walk from the Central YMCA where I stay, are Alliance Francais, the Kenyan National Theater, and the Goethe Institute. Every week there are plays, dance performances, or free movies. My favorite is Alliance Francais, which has never dissapointed me. In July, I attended two comedies which were so funny that some of us were literally doubled over in laughter. Even more amazing was that one of the plays was performed by students from USIU,a private university in the area.

In Githerai, I visted The Doves soccer team with their coach Chege. The boys who received the donated shoes from the U.S. wore them proudly. The team was in the process of looking for a new area to play in because they had complaints from the church near their former playing field. Too much noise they said. It wasn't even during church hours! One neighborhood teen was actually arrested for tresspassing by the police because a church member was on the police force. Chege and his "boys" never give up and continue to practice and compete with neighboring teams in whatever space they can find that can pass as a soccer field.

The Doves

Kim and Toto at the Central YMCA in Nairobi before they began Biking for Books.




Handmade furniture sold on the streets of Nairobi, Limuru Road

South Africa/Yasha/Street Kids

                 I don't even know where to start when I speak of Lydia and Wilco Venter, a South African couple who have adopted eight children from South Africa and Kenya. In spite of their family's objections, they went with their hearts and faith and jumped into the fire. The first several years in Kenya were the most difficult since they had almost no money. Their dream was to start schools in isolated areas and rescue orphans and street children. They have done all that and more. They have started six schools, but I will tell you a bit about the one in Njoro, where I visited. In Njoro, the original homestead of the Venters, there now stands Yasha Guest House and school. One thing about Kenya, there are baby classes and preschools all over the country. Quite impressive for a developing country. Check out the photos below of nap time (about 10 babies in one bed!). The school goes to fourth grade and includes an American curriculum, field trips, hot lunches and recess. The Guest House, which can still accommodate guests at a low price, also houses a new project for street boys. Right now, about six are bunked in one small room, but it is like the Hilton for them. Boys as young as 5 years old are on the streets of Nakuru (and all major cities), struggling to survive. Many of them sniff glue to lesson hunger pangs. Lydia and Wilco look for the ones who are younger and have a better chance at rehabilitation. Most of the kids they adopted were once abandoned or ran away from terrible home situations themselves. Below is a photo of boy named Sammy who Lydia met on the street. Sammy, 6 years old, walked /hitchhiked from Mombassa to Nakuru after his mom died. If she can find a sponsor, he will be the next one that Yasha Ministries will bring into their fold.

                                                                  Venter Family

Sammy, 6 year old street boy

If anyone is interested in volunteering at any of the schools, stay in the Guest House, or sponsor a child, feel free to contact Lydia at <lydiaventer09@gmail.com>

                               A volunteer group from England came to paint on of the classrooms.

After leaving Kipkelion, I cycled over a peaceful back road to a town called Mole. This was where much of the 2008 post election violence took place. The Norwegian Refugee Council, The Danish Refugee Council, and UNHCR all set up camp here to take care of the thousands of IDP (Internally Displaced Persons) who whose lives were disrupted during land disputes. According to the Norwegian Refugee Council, it was not just a simple tribal issue, but social standing and other things came into play. The NRC was building homes to replace those that had been burned down and to encourage people to come back to their shambas (farms) and work the land again.

After passing through Molo, it was an easy ride to Njoro, just 25 km south of Nakuru. In Njoro, I stayed with a family on the Egerton University campus. I met Chacha on the plane several years ago and we became friends. He is a renowned history professor there and travels all over the world (thus, the meeting on the airplane) giving lectures and going to conferences.This was the third time I stayed with his family. Two of his children were home and we spent the evening playing cards. I taught them Fish and Old Maid and they taught me a game called Colors. Egerton Universiy is unlike any I have ever seen. It is 3,000 acres (or was that 6,000?) They have farmland on which they grow several crops, a dairy farm, bio fuel plant, Model Organic Farm, Herbal Medicine Research facility, Montessori School, and even a herd of llamas.

                                                     Two farmers going to their shamba (farm)

I stopped at a small shamba on the way as I saw lots of women (some very old) walking with huge bundles on their backs. It was kidney bean harvesting time. Maharagwe is a common Kenyan staple food, along side sakuma wiki (collard greens) and ugali (thick porridge made from cornmeal) The men beat the dried bean stalks with huge sticks to release the beans from their pods. Once that is done, the women come with their rope and forehead strap and haul away the dried pods and leaves to feed their cows. As you can see from the photo below, I could not pick up this heavy load. How do the 70 year old women do it? They put me to shame!

SImbi Lake/Pool Game in Kipkelion

Before I left Kendu Bay, I was escorted by Mathew via bicycle to a saltwater lake, formed by a volcanic eruption. I can't tell you the geological details, but I CAN tell you the Luo folktale surrounding its formation. Mathew told me that long ago, a poor woman was thirsty and approached a group of men drinking busaa (remember that? The local beer). Since the tradition was that women were not allowed to be in the same area as men were gathered, they refused her water. She asked another group of men, who also turned her away. Finally, one of the mothers who was making the busaa gave the poor woman something to drink. The elder woman instructed the younger one, who also had a baby on her back, to leave the area with her child and not look back. The woman did leave, but at the last minute, could not help herself and looked back. To her amazement, it began to pour and it did not stop raining until all the men and their belongings had sunk into the ground. That is why Lake Simbi is sunken down, or so the Luo say.

Although the lake is too salty to drink or wash clothes, if a hole is dug only a few feet away, the water is much less salty and can be used for washing. In the picture below, you can see a young woman washing in one of the holes that has been dug next to the lake. In another photo, you can see a young boy next to Lake Simbi. He is gathering the salty soil to sell to venders who will process it into a salt lick for farmers to give their cattle. Not only does the salt kill stomach worms, it also increases appetite so the cow will fatten up more quickly.

                                               Leah and two of her children


I traveled a couple more days until I arrived, in the rain, at a small town called Kipkelion. It was in a valley, surrounded by green hills with tea, corn, and grass to graze the thousands of dairy cows in the area. It reminded me of the Swiss Alps, where I lived in my 20's. The only thing missing was the tinkling of cow bells. At the hotel, which I paid my typical $3.00, I met a Masai woman named Leah. Her husband was in jail and she was caring for her three young children on a paltry salary. She boiled water for my shower (it was freezing there!) and took me to the local bar for a Tusker. A group of young soldiers were playing pool, so of course I challenged one of them to a game. I learned to play pool as a child, in our basement, but hadn't played in years. My competitor had a Kikuyu nickname, which I forgot, but in English it meant "The one who never dies". I actually won the game, which was probably an embarrassment to the young man.Fortunately, he only had to pay 10 shillings for the next game. It's hard to leave some of these small towns because of the memories they contain, but I didn't think I could bear another day of rain and endless mud.

Kendu Bay/Ramadan

Toto has gone back to Nairobi so I'm on my own. Traveling alone is a different kind of experience. More ebb and flow of time. In a small village between Mbita and Homa Bay, I played checkers for a bottle of coke. (see photo) I lost, costing me 50 shillings. At Homa Bay, I stayed at the New Jersey Hotel again, this time making sure my room wasn't next to the men's urinal (that was one sleepless night!)There was even electricity this time around.

Remember that Homa Bay is the place where the hyacinth is so overgrown, that there is no access to Lake Victoria there, causing fishermen to figure out another way to make a living. The locals told me an amazing story. A launch with 30 passengers was on its way to one of the islands when clumps of this green weed blew in and surrounded the boat, preventing it from moving. They stayed in that boat for one week, trapped by green growth. It wasn't until a helicopter from Kisumu came that they were airlifted out of there. When a heavy rain came, the hyacinth broke up and the boat was able to move out.

I rode to Kendu Bay where I learned a bit about local Luo culture waited. Irritated at a group of villagers who refused to leave me read in the shade in peace, I simply packed up and moved down the road. After a good rest, I was approached by three men who wondered if I needed rescuing. They invited me to the local micro-brewery where a group of women were distilling Busaa from corn and millet. Five of us enjoyed the mildly alcoholic drink (also called pombe in Kiswahili) and discussed various issues as we sat in the house owner's living room. After I paid (of course) the 80 shillings (about 90 cents), the small group escorted me to a small hotel in the Old Town of Kendu Bay. It was located in a Muslim area and being the first day of Ramadan, the residents were jubilant. About 10:00 in the evening, I walked outside to the sound of children shouting and singing as they made their way home from the mosque. The next morning, the same kids raced through the streets at 5 a.m. shouting SALAT, SALAT. Time to pray.

In Kendu Bay I met one of the most interesting, hospitable, and memorable people. He hugged me the minute he saw me, very unusual for a Kenyan. Three times, in fact, like an Ethiopian greeting. He introduced himself as Najob. His father was from Yemen but Najib grew up in the Luo tribal area of Kendu Bay.  He had two wives. The first wife was from Yemen. He never told me what happened to her. His second wife was a Luo woman, a Christian at that. He expressed his love for her, even as she sat in the room. "I love this woman. Isn't she beautiful?" I had  never heard an African man be so public with his emotions. She sat on the sofa, smiling innocently like a new bride.

Najib told me he had 14 kids (or was that grand kids??) The oldest ones were quite Arab looking while the children with his Luo wife were more African in their features and color. While we sat in Najib's living room, banging sounds filled the air. Soft sounds, like metal spoons on plastic. The was Nywawa, a Luo custom that happens once a year. It is believed that the spirits of dead ancestors come back to disturb the living. So in order to chase them off, the residents find anything in the house that makes noise and take to the streets. In Kendu Bay, the spirits were chased to Lake Victoria and sent on their way until the next year when they would surely return.

Island Life

 All life centers around Lake Victoria on Mfangano Island. It is where everyone bathes, swims, washes dishes, and scrubs clothes. The nam (luo for lake)is where the the cows, sheep, and goats go when they are thirsty and the place to islanders collect drinking water. It is where much of the island's inhabitants make a living through fishing. Men and women have different spots they go to along the lake. These designated places are respected by all through social customs and taboos and are only separated by a few trees. If the children are sent to wash the family dishes or clothes, they wash on the woman's side, even if they are boys, because washing dishes is women's work. Even at a young age, they carry the large plastic basins on their heads, overflowing with black bottomed pans and plastic bowls. Rather than haul water up the hill to bathe (which no one does), the locals wash their bodies and hair in the lake. At first I was reluctant to do this. My training to keep soap out of the fresh water was ingrained, but I too, succumbed to local tradition. Toto and I swam at least twice a day, sometimes three times, because we knew it was our last chance to enjoy the warm, clear waters of Lake Victoria.

According to the folks at Ekialo Kiona, Lake Victoria is over-fished, since apparently the Kenyan government does not regulate the fishing industry. Years back, Nile Perch was introduced into the Lake. They are a huge fish, growing up to 70 pounds, the weight of a ten year old!. They are also carniverous and eat the small fish in the lake. Nile Perch are sold mainly to processing companies where they are made into fish sticks for MacDonalds and the like. Who makes money? Mostly the processing companies. The fishermen are paid a small price for their effort.Think about that the next time you eat at MacDonalds.

Photos in order:

The launch we took to Mfangano Island
Jacob's extended family next to his house
Toto on the boat
Donated bicycles from Bicycles for Humanity (Colorado based) at Ekialo Kiona

Toto arrived on Mfangano Island after a 3 hour wait for the launch that brought us here. It works like most places I have been in Africa. There is no schedule. The driver waits until the vehicle fills up. We took a swim in our clothes while we were waiting, read the paper, chatted with the locals. Finally, we were off. The boat was filled with only about 17 people. The rest was goods that were being carried to various islands in Lake Victoria. Mfangano Island is inhabited by Suba and Luo people. They get along well, but the Suba culture and language are being lost to the dominant Luo. There is one road on the island, but too rough for most vehicles. In fact, there is only one car here. The mode of transport is boda boda (motorcycle), bicycle, and foot. Bicycles are becoming more popular since the organization called Ekialo Kiona sells used bikes at a good price. It is an amazing organization that was started by a Suba man and an American. Their goal is prevention and treatment of HIV/AIDS but they address many other issues on the island such as overfishing, reforestation, community health.

Jacob and his wide family welcomed us  to the island. His wife and two young children live here while Jacob travels back and forth from here to Nairobi to make beads and jewelry. Most people on Mfangano make there living through fishing and farming. Most do not have electricity and the few I have seen did so through solar energy.  Houses are usually made from mud and wattle with corrugated iron roofs. Jacob, like most families, uses his crops of corn, cassava, and millet to feed his family. Any cash comes from sales of jewelry.  The names of Jacob's children and family members are interesting to me. Although many name their kids traditionally, Luos and Subas often name their children after people they admire. For instance, here are names of Jacob's relatives: Kelly, Obama, Yitzakrabin (after the slain Israeli leader), Kim Deprenger (yes, he named his new baby after me!), Junior, Kennedy, and Kofi.

The pictures below are:

Toto, Jacob, and I in front of Ekialo Kiona
Jacob and his family (Lilian, Kelly, and Kim)
Jacob's mom (Julita) with her grandchildren

Toto and Kim with Jacob's mom in Mbita
Kelly carrying her little cousin

Toto and I have arrived in Mbita, a point in Lake Victoria where we will take a boat to Mfangano Island. Tomorrow we will meet Jacob on the island and he'll introduce us to his family and show us around. In case you are confused about who this man is, I'll give a brief history. I met Jacob by accident, on the streets of Nairobi. I have a habit of talking to total strangers, which embarrasses  my kids, but a skill that comes in handy when traveling alone in foreign countries.  Jacob was looking for Maasai market, which had moved, so he was a bit lost. I asked him why he was going there and his response was that he makes beads out of cow bones and he sells them at this small tourist market.  The art teacher in me wanted to see that operation. A couple weeks later, Jacob escorted me to Kibera, a large slum in the heat of Nairobi, and amazed me with how he formed beads in intricate shapes and designs starting with bones so big that they looked like they came from a dinosaur. To make a long story short, I have been selling his jewelry in the U.S. and sending him the profits. So...he invited me to come meet his family. Toto and I then decided to make it a Biking for Books trip.

The first time I saw Lake Victoria from Kisumu, I was disappointed. There were factories all around, very little access to the lake, and it was too polluted to swim in. However, this time around, I've seen some of the beauty it offers.  Our first glimpse of Lake Victoria was in Homa Bay. Seen from a distance, it shines in the sun, and instead of factories, it is surrounded by green. The Luo farmers' land abuts the lake, with their pastures for grazing dairy cows and sheep and fields of corn and millet. Riding to the pier in Homa Bay around sunset, we were greeted with a sea of green hyacinth. It is beautiful, but is actually a noxious weed, not indigenous to the area. It grows so thick, that no boats can pass through it, cutting off access to the lake for miles.

More later as Toto and I find out how the tribes that depend on the lake's resources are fairing. 

Biking for Books, Week One

We've been on the road for a week but with almost no access to internet. I'll give you a quick rundown of the past week. Toto and I launched Biking for Books 2012 with little fanfare (only one adoring fan) from the YMCA in Nairobi. Once through the congestion of the city, we climbed straight up until we reached the outskirts the town of Limuru, where I fell and broke two front teeth on the way to Uganda back in 2009.   We passed lime green tea fields and arrived in the drizzle. Toto's bike broke down and as he headed by bus back to Nairobi, I was busy meeting local politicians who whisked me away the next morning to the site of a new maternity hospital. The nurses educated me on the difficulties women have in Kenya when they are pregnant or ready to give birth due to lack of good roads, transportation, and lack of facilities close by. Building this 3 million shilling maternity wing was not just a political move by Councellor Phillip to get votes, it was a necessity to reduce maternal deaths.

After Limuru we left Kikuyu tribal lands and entered Masaii territory where we would travel for several days. The bright and colorful kitenges and shukas lent beauty everywhere we turned. Although more and more Masaii children are attending school these days, they are one of a few tribes in Kenya who live traditionally. The land was scrubby and flat, filled with herds of cows, sheep, and goats, the currency of the tribe. One night I  gave away my daughter in marriage (just kidding Ariella) for a promise of 200 goats, 70 cows, and 50 acres of land. When I asked Manyati (prospective husband) what Ariella would do when she came to Suswa he told me she would tend to the animals. However, once I reported that she was too educated to be a shepherd, he told me he would build a school names Kim's Preparatory School and Ariella could run the place.

The next memorable moment took place in a small trading center a days ride from Suswa. Toto and I were starting to like these small towns because people were friendly and they were more like bed and breakfasts than the brothels of the cities we were used to. We were shown the rooms, told the price ($4.50) and the place to bathe. After a few minutes, however, we were told that the rooms had been booked and paid for and we had to leave. "Wanashukiwa" (They are suspected....). Thinking that it was because I offered some small sweets to the children was the problem, we left. We were taken to another mom and pop place and the same routine happened. We were settling in, Toito was bathing when Mama Judy received a phone call. She immediately informed us that the rooms were booked and we had to leave. Toto thought I  was joking, so he took his time whereas I left in a huff and waited for him by the road. We thought it was because of me, a mzungu (white person), who they had probably never had stay in their humble hotels. Later, we wondered if teh problem was actually Toto, who has been accused of being a Rastafarian and a member of an Al Shabab sleeper cell. Some of the locals told us that Totos beard and dark skin were looked upon with suspician, especially after recent terrorist incidents in Northeast Kenya in which two churches of worshippers were bombed and 17 killed. One old woman actually asked Toito if he had "one of those green explosives" in his bike bag.

Last night we stayed in Kisii, a small city filled with boda bodas (motorcycle drivers), street boys sniffing glue, and sleazy hotels. We stayed at one of those for the typical $3.00 a room we always pay. Aside from what goes on in these places, we always meet friendly people who cheer us up and give us the local news and perspectives.

We have 3 more days until we reach Mfangano Island. No internet there for sure, so be patient for the next update!

Launching Biking for Books 2012

Am I really in East Africa? It feels like I came home. Although I will welcome my room in St. Paul come August, the road is home for now. Toto and I leave tomorrow for our Biking for Books trip to Mfangana Island in Lake Victoria, Western Kenya. Our campaign raised about $500, a donated laptop, three donated cameras, and 15 pairs of donated athletic shoes. Chege was like a kid when he saw those shoes for his neighborhood soccer team, the Doves. How he will distribute 15 pairs of shoes to 22 boys, I don't know. I left that one up to him. Toto's mind is already working overtime on how he will utilize the cameras and laptop. He's a master at community organizing (think Obama) and I guarantee photos will follow once he gets things rolling. Toto, Chege, and I would like to thank all of you who donated and/or support us in our efforts to inspire youth in Kenya to be physically and mentally active.

These are The Doves, a neighborhood soccer team in Nairobi, Kenya, organized by Chege. Check out their footwear (not!). Biking for Books is raising money to send donated sport shoes from Marathon Sports in Minneapolis, MN. so they can be a happier, safer, group of boys.