Oyugus Weekend

The Western and Nyanza Peace Corps volunteers from our group decided to meet up in Oyugus for a party this weekend, and it turned out to be a lot of fun in a lazy sort of way. These Peace Corps parties seem to draw a lot of attention, because the small rural Kenyan villages that most volunteers stay in suddenly become overrun with wazungu (white people), and the front yards become tent cities where most of the PCV's end up sleeping. At least it was at someone else's house this time.

I came into town on Friday night and we went to a nearby bar to listen to the same Kenyan song blaring over and over again on the overhead loudspeakers. We drank a few Tuskers and then I fell asleep back at the house watching a movie on a television borrowed from the village chief. The next day was supposed to be action packed. First we planned to camp by Lake Victoria, and when it became to late to do that we decided to stay at a hotel in Kisii. Unfortunately there wasn't a lot of motivation from folks this weekend and most of the volunteers didn't even leave the house on Saturday except for a quick Tusker run. A lot of my friends were pretty emotionally exhausted this week, since teaching has just started for the majority of them and many are also coming to terms with all the unexpected surprises at their sites. For instance, one volunteer's living room has been turned into grain storage for a nearby nutrition center. The 100kg bags are full of bugs and there's no room for her to put any of her stuff. Another volunteer came back to his house to see that the owner had returned from Nairobi, broke open the door, gathered up all the volunteer's things, and tossed them out of the house because the owner decided he wanted to move back in. Yet another volunteer has had flashlights shining into her windows in the middle of the night, and one time she opened the blinds at night to see someone on the other side of the window staring at her. One of the deaf educators was trained in KSL (Kenyan sign language) only to go to a school for the deaf where the students only understand ASL (American sign language), and since he hasn't studied that he has no way to talk to his class. The moral of the story is that I feel pretty lucky that so far (knock on wood) that I haven't had many problems beyond my control.

Anyway, laziness prevailed and there was no camping or going to Kisii this weekend. Instead we watched four movies in a row. I stuck around for about three of them and honestly it felt great to just lay there and stare at a box for awhile. It's amazing how interesting a movie is when you actually see a television about once every other month. One of them, Crash, was exceptionally good. I finished the day feeling completely worthless but refreshed.

So that's about all the news for now. I bought some pretty cool stuff in Kisumu today that might make it's way back to the states for a few lucky people, and other than that there's not much new. I'll write again when something interesting comes up.

Weekly Update (The proposal is completed!)

So I'm about to leave for a PCV party near Kisumu this weekend but here's a quick update on life in Kenya: Basically for the last three weeks I've been working my tail off but the proposal is finally completed and I submitted it today. Getting this thing finished felt like completing the last final exam of the year. Putting together the finances and budgeting and making a compelling case is really a lot of work, especially with the last minute deadline. The total amount we are requesting for the project is a little over a million shillings, and that will go towards assembling and running the equipment, purchasing all the accessories we will need, getting the flour certified, and training everyone. I went to Kisumu on Friday and visited a manufacturing plant headquartered in Nairobi that will potentially be making the machinery for milling the flour. They also provide training on proper food manufacturing practices, including standards, quality control, hygiene, and packaging. Between that and Rhoda's input on creating the flour I think we really have a good proposal. After submitting today I had to speak to a review board with Habakkuk, the Network Chairman. The review board really seemed to like the proposal, and the biggest issue was that our group had not budgeted a large enough portion of our own income for the project. Apparently contributions from the group towards achieving the goal are really important, but this was my first grant proposal so live and learn. Anyway, it sounds like after they look it over if they want to give us the funding they will allow us to rewrite the budget to contribute more from our side. That's easier said than done, and a lot of the organizations that showed up today to speak with the review board are already receiving massive amounts of funding through religious organizations, NGO's, etc. I pointed out to the board that Habakkuk and myself came by matatu and boda boda while everyone else arrived in automobiles funded through grant money they've already received. The committee thought that observation was hilarious and hopefully I got a point across as well. So in one week I should know whether we've made it to the next step. I'll keep everyone informed.

Now on to a couple non-work related things. There is a spice mix that makes a fantastic fish marsala which I've been cooking with practically every week. I cooked dinner with one of the Canadian volunteers on Wednesday night and it turned out great; ingredients for Indian food are easy to find here and the spices are better than anything I've come across in the states. Last weekend I went to Eldoret, and besides having good restaurants there's really nothing interesting about the place. The novelty is starting to wear off with new Kenyan cities and they are starting to look the same. Eldoret reminds me of Kisumu, except no giant lake and more trash all over the ground. I've never seen a place with so many plastic bags blowing through the wind, covering fields, snagged on barbed wire fences, etc. It's incredible how much nicer these places would look with a little help from a sanitation department; perhaps money has been allocated for such an effort and its in someone's pocket right now.

So that's about it, time to get out of here and relax. I'll write again when something interesting comes up.

In case you were wondering how the job is going

Written yesterday:

I’m sitting in my office today waiting for a two o’clock meeting that I’ve scheduled with the executive committee of the Kakamega Farmer Field School Network and a few other people that I think will prove useful. This is my first attempt at a project that I think will really help the farmers here and I’m a little nervous but optimistic things will work out.

During the last few weeks I’ve been putting together a proposal for grant money through an initiative called “Njaa Marafuku Kenya” (Swahili for “Reducing Hunger in Kenya”). This funding is being provided by the Ministry of Agriculture and ties into a rather ambitious goal of the eradication of extreme hunger and poverty throughout Kenya. There are several components of the grant and one of them correlates almost matches exactly with what the Kakamega FFS network is doing. Furthermore, only two organizations in the Kakamega district have been selected to apply for this grant money and I think that if we can establish a compelling case for what we will do with the funding we are a shoe-in to get it. The amount of money we would receive would start at a half million shillings and top out at 2 million (a little more than $26,000; a lot of cash here)

So after various discussions with the Executive Committee, as well as with Rhoda, a woman from KARI (the Kenyan Agricultural Research Institute) and Eunice, a lady from the Ministry of Agriculture, we are thinking about value addition to sweet potatoes through producing and selling composite flour. By mixing sweet potato, soy beans, and then either wheat, sourgum, millet, or maize the farmers would be able to make a highly nutritious flour (vitamin A from the the Sweet Potato, protein from the soy) that would be highly marketable, therefore providing income for farmers who are currently living at a sustenance level, while at the same time providing what could potentially be used as a staple food towards the eradication of hunger.

Seems like a win-win situation if we get the grant money except I’ve felt as if I’m going into this project blindly. I have been here for less that a month when I was asked to take this on (so much for the Peace Corps recommendation of staying hands-off for the first three months), and if we get this funding and purchase grinding mills, packaging, sealers, etc. there will be a lot of coordination and marketing involved for the sell of a finished product. Also, from talking with Rhoda in KARI I’m concerned about the motivation of the farmers to grow the necessary crops and meet the quality standards required. Thankfully Rhoda is an expert on value addition to sweet potatoes and will be attending the meeting, so I’m hopeful that I will get more information from her.

Also, on Monday this week I went to Busia, which is located on the Kenyan/Ugandan border. Equipment for the processing of sweet potatoes has been donated to a farmer’s training college there to be used as a showcase for farmers interested in purchasing mills, chippers, etc. I learned much about the requirements for the processing of quality flour as well as a lot of the input/output costs that would be needed to successfully implement the project. So wish me luck, I’ll continue this posting once I’ve completed the meeting and know what’s next.

Actually, while I’m waiting here are a few more updates: Brenda, the 11 year old orphan girl with AIDS, has been taken to a treatment center and tested, where it became apparent that the virus has seriously affected her and she won’t make it much longer. Brenda, along with Agnetta, the sponsor for the child, made it all the way to the doctor that prescribes the antiviral drugs before they hit the first bottleneck. Agnetta is not a legal guardian and can therefore not give the authorization to put Brenda on medication. Since both of Branda’s parents have died and she has no caretaker other than Agnetta, who has sponsored her, and providing a legal guardian is going to be difficult. Luckily I found a potential loophole. If a letter is signed from the village chief stating that Agnetta is the primary caretaker for the child then there’s a chance she can have the authorization to give the go ahead on medication. I've spoken to the chief and he has agreed to assist. So keep Brenda in your prayers, I’m hoping for the best.

Also, I’ve noticed that I’m spending most of my time zipping through my village on my bicycle (I love my bike so very, very much) instead of actually spending much time there. Between going to work, traveling on weekends, and spending time in Kakamega I’ve not had very many opportunities to meet anyone in my village beyond the mamas in my compound. I’m getting tired of sitting at home by myself every night, so I’m making a goal for myself to actually spend some free time in Shimanyiro getting to know everyone. I’ll let you know how it goes; my biggest concern is that nearly every person I’ve really gotten to know outside of the office has resulted in an eventual request for me to give them large sums of money. Most of the time the people here really are in dire straights, which helps me remember how fortunate I am, and even though it annoys me I really can’t blame them. I guess I shouldn’t let that keep me from making new friends but there’s only so much I can give and it leaves me suspicious that many of the people I meet are really looking at me more as a source of income that a friend. I guess that’s just part of the experience though and I hope that will change over time.

Written today (Saturday):

So the meeting when well. Rhoda gave a compelling case for flour production and if we can get this grant money it will be a really great project. (By the way, the network has been trying to get Rhoda to come speak with them for over a year, so they were impressed that I managed to do it. She's on leave until after the grant application is due but I called her so many times that she finally gave up and let me visit her at her home. She's a very blunt outspoken African women who could potentially rub people the wrong way but I think it's hilarious and really like her. We finished determining what equipment will be needed to process the flour and I'm going to Kisumu on Monday to get some additional pricing and hopefully finalize what's needed to submit the grant proposal. The plan right now is to have three sublocations in the Kakamega district where the potatoes will be chipped and dried and the soy beans will be boiled and dried. From there they will be transported to a central location where we plan to have a griding mill that will process the flour, and people will package and store it. Some of the funding from the grant will also go to Rhoda to get the flour certified through the Kenya Bureau of Standards, meaning we will include nutrition information and have a bar code that can be used at supermarkets. Before that we are going to work on creating various blends of soy, millet, sorghum, sweet potato, and maize and we will have over 100 farmers throughout the region sample and determine which is the best. Once that is done we plan to schedule training sessions for 120 farmers in three locations regarding quality and processing techniques.

So all in all I'm really psyched that I'll be heading this up and hope everything works out. The biggest problem I see is that there are 10 people in charge of the network, and of those 10 only about three seem willing to actively participate and make suggestions/contributions. The others just show up, sit there silently and nod there heads when appropriate, and then demand money from the network funds for their attendance when it's time to go home. Since the success of this project, if it happens, depends on everyone giving 100% I hope we will have sufficient motivation from everyone to do things correctly. We'll see how it goes.

Now I'm in the nearby town of Eldoret for the weekend catching up with a few PCV's and checking out a new town. I just got here and am using a free Internet connection at Moi University but nothing to exciting has happened yet. If we do anything blog worthy I'll let everyone know.

Bullfighting pics, etc.

So here are a few pics from the bullfight and other stuff

Village kids will play with almost anything. For instance, the children in my compound amused themselves with a few of my empty cereal boxes for weeks. I figured they would really enjoy an actual toy, and for just a few dollars I was able to make a swing for my compound and hang it from a tree in the yard. Now the kids in the village play on it from dusk till dawn.

Here's the bullfight in action

The losing bull finally had enough of getting pushed around. Here he is running away, like a coward (get it? "cow"ward?) while people scurry to avoid being run over.

Ahh, sweet victory. Here's the gigantic winning bull surrounded by his village.

Here is the victory parade for the winning bull. Lots of music and dancing while the competing bulls "cow"er in fear of the winner

Some guy told me there are some African women who can hold three times their weight on their heads. I don't know about that but I do know that this many branches hoised over my head would crush me.

Bullfight!

On Saturday I wanted to attend the funeral of Jacob Luceno, a famous Kenyan musician who died recently but lived just a few kilometers from my house in Shimanyiro. There were thousands of people attending the funeral, including members of Kenyan Parliament and many famous Kenyan musicians. The fact the funeral was walking distance away (the power company even let us have electricity for the weekend!) made this a cultural experience I didn't want to miss...that is, until I was awakened by an early morning text message from my work colleague, Habbakuk, informing me that there was a bullfight in a nearby village at 8:00.

Letsee...funeral or bullfight...tough call. Unfortunately it's very likely I will have other chances to attend a Kenyan funeral, plus I thought that perhaps I could be back from the bullfight in time to see some of it, since the funeral was inevitably going to last all day.

Anyway, with little time to spare I threw on some clothes and rushed to the bullfight. I arrived at the village where literally thousands of people were surrounding a roped-in field. People were also clustered in trees, up on hills, and anywhere they could get a good vantage point of the festivities.

A little background on Kenyan bullfighting: The Kakamega district is the only place in Kenya that does it, and it's not people fighting bulls like I expected, but bulls fighting bulls. Each bull represents the strength and pride of the village, and the bulls are pampered, extremely well fed, and raised for one thing: to beat the crap out of other bulls. As each bull was brought into the ring it let out a triumphant snort, as if it knew why it was there. After much hoof stomping and noise making the bulls were brought together to fight. One bull in particular was absolutely huge; to the dismay of the villages who brought lesser bulls, he could simply grunt and chase many of the competing bull away. This resulted in some pretty humorous moments (since I was on the other side and no one appeared hurt) as the larger bull would chase the smaller bull through the rope barrier and into the crowd, where people would shove each other out of the way and scurry to avoid being trampled.

So finally one bull showed up who was tough enough to take on the defending champ. Things started with some pretty intense headbutting as the bulls were pushing each other all over the field. After a few minutes the defending bull finally gave up and ran away, while the victors rushed the field, homemade Kenyan flags and branches held high, to celebrate.

By this time I found Habbakuk in the crowd, and he informed me that I was needed in Kakamega to pick up a Japanese FAO volunteer named Kenya (seriously) who has been working in Indonesia. Of course Habakkuk planned to make it back in time for the funeral but by then I knew it was a lost cause. So off we went to Kakamega, crammed 25 deep in a 14 seat Matatu since everyone was leaving the bull fight at the same time. Kenya (the person) is getting his masters in rural development from Carthage college in the US, and he's a pretty interesting guy. He really didn't have anything to do that day so on a whim we decided to go to the rainforest.

I called my friend Simon, who is the cab driver I most often depend on, to pick us up. He drives a primer grey, rusted out, all around beat up Toyota that appears to be about 40 years old. Surprisingly, it usually runs fairly well, but today it was having serious problems. He sputtered his vehicle, with us in the car, to a nearby mechanic where he assured us to just wait because overhauling a 40 year old car with millions of miles on it would only take about five minutes.

Yeah right, I've been in Kenya long enough to know what five minutes means, and after about another half hour of getting nowhere we took another cab. Finally, after plenty of negotiations on a ridiculous price, we made it to the rainforest. As opposed to just wandering aimlessly like I did last time we hired a guide for 300 shillings, and it was really worthwhile. Even though Habbakuk lives very close by he had never been to the forest before, and he really enjoyed it.

One thing to note: I haven't met a Kenyan yet who doesn't hate snakes. Almost every snake I've seen in this country has been chopped up into tiny pieces and left in a ditch somewhere. In the forest I got to listen to our guide talk about snakes becoming extinct, beneficial snakes who eat rodents, etc, and Habakkuk would have none of it. A snake is a snake and the only good snake it a dead snake, he said. There really wasn't much of a resolution to this conversation, and when the guide suggested Habakkuk keep snakes around his house to catch rodents...well, you should have seen it, it was pretty funny.

So lots of great information about the rainforest: There's a tree called the Strangler Fig that covers up other trees and takes nutrients from them until they decompose, leaving behind a hollow shell of a tree that consists of wooden vines that covered and destroyed the tree that once was inside. There are also plenty of medicinal plants in the forest, and many are nearly extinct and only found in the forest. One tree in particular, of which there is only a handful left in the world because they were all cut down for railroad trestles, has been shown to treat prostate cancer. As a result every one of these trees in the forest has been marked by research scientists and PHD students who are trying to learn more about these trees and save them before it is too late.

So there were tons of monkeys as usual as well. This time I saw blue, colobus, and a new one, the red tail, adding another check mark to my monkey collection.

That's about all for now. I'll try to upload some pics and it may be awhile before I can update again since I hope to be traveling for work quite a bit next week.

Mfangano Island Pics

I had to run into town briefly today and the Internet is a bit faster, although I need to be quick because it's about time for the power to go out again. It turns out that because of a really bad drought they are now rationing power, so during the only time of the day that I actually use it, 5:00 - 9:30, hakuna stima (Swahili for "sitting in the dark all night"). So everyone pray for rain here or I'll have to continue living like I actually am in the Peace Corps!!

Anyway, here's some pics from the weekend. These are scaled down and don't really do much justice to just how beautiful it was, but given the circumstances it's hard to complain about the size of the pictures I'm able to post half a world away.

One of the boats the fisherman use to catch tilapia from Lake Victoria. It is the same basic design that's been used for hundreds of years, but regardless they seem to work just fine.

Kenyan mamas doing laundry and dishes on the shore of the smaller Island near Mfangano. The other side this island is a resort that costs thousands of dollars just to get to.

This is the million dollar view from the yard of one of the poor farmers at the top of the mountain. That's another island off in the distance and behind that a horizon of blue water.

When the boats catch the wind the sails almost touch the water. If I had grabbed this shot just a few seconds earlier the sail was even closer to the lake and the fisherman were doing everything they could to counterbalance against the breeze.

This is the living room of the farmer who took me in for lunch. Million dollar view outside, broken chairs , small rickety table, and leaky roof inside. The bread and water bottle on the table were mine; this family had almost nothing at all.

Another shot of the small Island beside Mfangano. Stupidly, I forgot to load a picture of the Island where I actually spent the weekend on my flashdrive, but maybe next time.

Some of the very colorful fishing boats docked on the shore of Lake Victoria

Fisherman coming in with a load of fish and taking down the sail; basically two large branches and a patchwork of fabric.

Mfangano Pics (nevermind) and the latest

So this week has been busy. The Kakamega FFS group has a decent chance of getting a grant towards the purchase of equipment for processing sweet potatoes, and I've been given the task of getting all the information together, making sure the grant application is written well, and laying out a quarterly budget of what we would do with the money. I've spent a lot of time in the office working on the grant application, which is due on the 25th. Next week I'll be traveling a lot to get additional info so I'll let everyone know how that goes.

Anyway, on Wednesday we had our monthly meeting of Network Officials (all Kenyan farmers), and what an experience that was. It was supposed to start at 9, and of course people start drifting in from 9:30 until 11:00. Then comes the mandatory 2 hours of small talk and handshakes before anything can actually happen. This consists of rapidly spoken Swahilli and Kiluyha, so I'm just sitting there going through text messages I've already read on my cell phone. Once things actually get started (around noon or so) everyone patiently waits their turn to get on their soap box and speak passionately about whatever issue is troubling them. Using metaphors, parables, repetition and any other means of prolonging the conversation they were able to make an issue that could have been resolved in just a few minutes last hours. So two o'clock rolls around and there's still no sign of things wrapping up, so I suggest a lunch break. After a quick lunch it was was back to the meeting which continued past 5:00, when I finally had to excuse myself for a dinner invitation I had extended to my Canadian volunteer friends.

At least dinner was nice. Most of the ingredients are readily available here for decent Mexican food and I made mango salsa, guacamole, bean dip, and tortillas. The power is only been working about half the time lately so we cooked and ate over candlelight but things turned out well.

I'll write more about what I'm doing in the office later. For now here's some pics of my weekend on the Island:

Ok, I'll try again later. The Internet is really really slow right so no luck on pics. I'll update again soon!

Mfangano Island

So this weekend was quite an adventure. I was extended an invite to Mfangano Island from a few volunteer friends, and since it is in the Lake Victoria/Nyanza province, I assumed that the Island was very close to Kisumu. Valuable lesson of the day: buy a Kenyan map and study it thoroughly; Lake Victoria is BIG. More on that in a minute.

Since I was relatively caught up on things work-related except for some books on crops and grant proposals that I brought with me, I left Friday at 6 in the morning under the assumption that I could spend quite a bit of time in Kisumu checking for packages and letters that are supposedly in the PC office there. I haven't received anything from home since November and was looking forward to stocking up on any delayed Christmas presents that may have come my way. I also wanted to get additional material from the PC library concerning grant applications and maybe grab lunch at the Muslim-owned restaurant in town with fantastic fish biriani. I thought that my friends would show up sometime later, we could make a quick trip out to the island, and I would have plenty of time to get things done in Kisumu as well.

Here's where the fun and my usual luck with traveling adventure comes in. It turns out my friends had left Eldoret at some ridiculously early hour and made it to Kisumu at 7am. I had finished a bike ride and only made it as far as the matatu to Kakamega at that time. I received at least seven text message stating "where are you now?" followed by more urgent messages such as "get to the Kisumu matatu stage ASAP". Apparently there was a bit of a miscommunication problem concerning when I needed to be in Kisumu. As a result I made it there about ten minutes late for the last bus that could reach the town with a ferry station (called Luanda Kotieno) in time for the 11:00 ferry to Mbita. After much deliberation I was greeted by a tout (the guy that takes money and recruits people to board their matatu) who stated that his bus would get me to Luanda Kotieno in time to catch the ferry, no problem. Since I really had no idea exactly how long the trip was, but knew there was still more than two hours remaining before the ferry left, I decided to take my chances. Second valuable lesson of the day: Never trust a matatu Tout.

The trip to Luanda Kotieno took four bumpy, dusty, hot, cramped hours...not to mention I had a touch of nausea. Nearly the entire trip consisted of a single lane dirt service road, and right beside it sat a neatly constructed and level two-lane road that has apparently been under construction since the dawn of time. When I finally got to the pier at almost 1:00, the 11:00 ferry had of course left. However, I had already put seven hours into the trip and was not about to turn around. Luckily I met a fisherman named Patrick on the bus and he was extremely helpful and friendly. He informed me that there was a 3:00 ferry to Mbita and that I could even make it to Mfangano that same day. I sent a text message to my friends - who managed to take an express bus that only took two hours which got them to the pier in more than enough time - and told them I was on my way. They replied that they would be waiting for me...the last I would hear from them for the day.

So anyway, while waiting for the three o'clock ferry Patrick gave me a guided tour of the town and discussed his life as a fisherman. He was very friendly and outgoing and wants me to come visit him in his village sometime soon. While waiting I watched the fisherman in their colorful small wooden boats with tattered, homemade sails going out to the lake to catch fish. Sometimes the wind would blow so hard that the tip of the sail would touch the water, and the guys on the boat would hang to the side in hopes of not falling out. Patrick tells me these boats capsize regularly and the fishermen are skilled at flipping them back around, although at the expense of any fish they may have caught. I have some of the best pics I have taken thus far to post once I get them off my camera.

I also watched a variety of birds swimming on the lake or flying by overhead, and saw several hawk-looking things swoop down and pull fish from the water. Meanwhile, Patrick informed me which birds tasted good and which were not the best for eating. Along the shore of the lake were huge nets that had been laid out to dry, and they were covered with mountains of small fish called omeno, which are an inexpensive source of protein. There was also a boat laying on its side with several goats standing inside to keep out of the sun.

So the 3:00 ferry came and touts lined up to greet people as they left the boat by grabbing their luggage and herding them into buses. Once they cleared past us I piled onto the ferry to go across the first stretch of water to Mbita. Everyone was crammed next to each other on the few benches in the the boat, while there was a huge, breezy outdoors area where cars were parked. I don’t understand why Kenyans prefer to be smushed together and I stood outside and was treated to an absolutely breathtaking view of the surrounding lakeside mountains and islands. Lake Victoria is gigantic (in fact, we drove alongside it for several hours before reaching the pier) and there were almost ocean sized waves that the ferry had to crash through on the way to Mbita.

Once on Mbita Patrick walked with me to yet another boat to get to Mfangano Island. This boat was considerably smaller than the ferry, pretty much a slightly larger version of the wooden boat I took through Lake Victoria over New Years, and as expected it was absolutely crammed full of people. There is no pier to board the boat, so entrance requires wading through snail-infested waters up to your waist, as the other fifty people that were already on the boat had done. There was a guy on the side of the shore charging 20 shillings to avoid this, and he gave me a piggy back ride through the water to the edge of the boat. I was laughed at by the Kenyans but didn't care, it was worth a quarter to not be soaked in schisto water from the waste down.

So finally, after a bike ride, two matatu rides, a bus ride, a ferry, and a small boat I was on my way to Mfangano. On the way I realized I could very well be on the most beautiful place on earth, and as we passed a resort island that costs thousands of dollars and is only accessible by private plane, I had to laugh that my trip to the island from Kakamega cost about $5.

By now it was 6 in the evening and I called my friends to excitedly tell them I had made it at last, but alas, there was no answer. The phones went straight to a message telling me they could not be reached, and I assumed they had managed to find a spot on the island where there was no cell phone coverage. I was discouraged, but the hospitality of the people in that area was overwhelming. On the boat to Mfangano, after already receiving plenty of assistance from my new Kenyan friend Patrick, I met about six other Kenyans who gave me their phone numbers and welcomed me to visit them on the island. When I told my story to one of them who happened to be the brother of one of the chiefs on the island, he made a phone call and had the chief waiting for me when I arrived. The chief introduced me to his son Collins, who is about to finish secondary school and wants to go to college in the States. Collins was a big help and after a quick meal of chapatti and beans he took me to a small guest house that smelled like it was used for cleaning fish. For 200 shillings I had a place to stay for the night, and after joining Collins for a Tusker I called it a night in a relatively good mood considering I never did find anyone I was supposed to meet.

The next morning there was still no answer from my friends, but Mfangano is basically a mountain island with a peak that has a spectacular view. With all my gear on my shoulders I checked out of my smelly fish hut and started the trek on the path up the hill. Even though I could not find anyone, I assumed that perhaps they would want to climb the mountain as well and I would eventually meet them at the peak. Very early in the morning on the way up the mountain, I came across a farmer and his son who had taken the trek down even earlier to pick up some dried fish from the village. The farmer explained that the highlands of Mfangano are full of farmers, almost all of them his relatives, and he has 10 brothers with plots nearby. Everyday he climbs up and down the mountain with produce from his shamba (garden), and the trek is strenuous to say the least. As I was growing winded and nowhere near the top, he continued to skip along like only someone who has climbed the same path thousands of times could do. He encouraged me to walk with him because, as it turned out, there were many forks on the trail and I would not have made it to the peak without someone to help.

As we reached the peak the farmer showed me what he referred to as the shrine, which is an area at the very peak of the mountain where no trees have been cleared for gardens and many of the farmer's ancestors are buried. The shrine predates the introduction of Christianity to the island and around the pile of rocks that makes the highest point are the remains of broken pottery, some of it hundreds of years old, where in a previous time sacrifices had been made for the ancestors. According to the farmer the shrine was where crop and animal sacrifices occurred until recently, when Christianity took hold on the island. Now at the top of the pile of rocks is a wooden crucifix, and the farmers seem to have created a hybrid religion combining the principals of Christianity with the ancestor worship of the traditional African religions. Also, there is a place that was once a watering hole on the top of the mountain. Due to a devastating drought that Kenya is experiencing right now the well has run dry, but the farmer told me at one time you could put a branch or something distinctive in the water at the top of the mountain, and there is a place at the base of the island where you can see it washing out to sea the next day.

After exploring the shrine, which really did fell like a spiritual place, I visited one of the farmer’s brother's houses, and he had a view that was absolutely phenomenal. Any of the land on this island would go for millions of dollars in the states, and here there are farmers in thatched mud huts getting by on less that a dollar a day. Although I was reluctant to take anything from him, the brother gave me a few mangos from his shamba that tasted like one would expect a paradise fruit on a paradise island to taste. After a brief conversation in Swahili with the brother I went with the farmer to his house and was welcomed in. This farmer also lived in a mud hut with a paradise view. The lake is so big that even thousands of feet in the air you can still look out across the water and not see the other side. Apparently on some days you can see a dim outline of Uganda, but there was a haze in the air from the heat and all I could see was water. The farmer’s furnishings consisted of a small wooden table and three wooden chairs, two of which were broken. The hut was partitioned into three rooms and thin foam mattresses were spread on the floors of the other two rooms where the farmer, his wife, and his five children sleep. The farmer’s wife wanted to speak with me but she only understood the langage of the Luo tribe, as well as one other language, called Suba, that was traditionally spoken on the island before Luo became predominant. Some of the oldest Wazee (elders) on the island speak only Suba, which is why it is understood by others on the island, but once they are gone it is likely the language will go with them, and another piece of history will be lost. I think that’s fascinating. Here is a link on it: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Suba_language

So the farmer, who had almost nothing, gave me bananas and mangos that grew on this shamba. When I tried to refuse he explained that getting them down the mountain was such a hassle that most of them will rot on the ground anyway. So I stuffed myself with fruit and then was offered ugali and eggs. I’ve learned that it is sometime futile to turn down food here so I ate that as well and went on my way. I gave the farmer my contact info and hope that perhaps he can coordinate a Farmer Field School on his island so that trainers will come from Nairobi to assist them.

So I headed down the mountain and still had not seen my friends. I pretty much gave up since their phones were still out of range and went down to the shore, where I was able to hop on a boat going back to Mbita. On the way they were stopping at the resort island for a drink and I agreed to go with them. Then, as soon as the boat was on the water and leaving Mfangano I got a call from Collins, stating that my friends had shown up looking for me. Frustrated, I got off at the resort Island, treated the guys to cold sodas for the assistance, and started looking for a way back to Mfangano again. I found some fishermen going that way and hitched a ride, and thought I was home free until their boat broke down about 200 yards from Mfangano. I sat there and drifted for awhile until I managed to reach Collins, who came out in a boat and towed us back to the island. At last I caught up with the people I had wanted to see in the first place.

As it turns out, I did not miss much. They did not go to the peak that day and instead, on the other side of the island, paid 200 shillings a person to see “ancient cave paintings” that they decided looked like they had been painted about 10 years ago. Furthermore, they stayed at the house of some very conservative Christians, and since one of my friends was their with her boyfriend, they were treated to a lecture on immorality.

That night we met up with the district officer of the island, once again thanks to Collins, and he let us sleep on his compound. We squished 5 people in a four person tent and all slept terribly.

So perhaps all in all things worked out for the best. I know this posting was huge but it was more for my sake to remember everything than anything else. It took 12 hours to return home, and what could have been an uneventful weekend at my compound makes for a pretty good story now. T

Back by popular demand: Pictures!

So only a few new things to report on, then on to the New Years pics:

I'm currently writing a proposal to the Kenyan Export Zone, which pretty much controls all exported goods from Kenya, to help convince them of the economic viability of building a plant here in Kakamega for the processing of raw agricultural materials for export. Currently the processed goods must first involve the transport of raw materials to Nairobi, so if all goes well the logistics of transport across the country and the added costs will no longer be a burden to the farmers here, plus there will be a huge market for crops right in Kakamega.

Also, I had a meeting with the guardian/sponsor of the sick orphan girl with AIDS and told her about the availability of antiviral drugs from the hospital here in Kakamega. She informed me she will take the girl there and keep me up to date on the latest. Of course, there are plenty more hoops to jump through but I'm hopeful we are on our way to saving a girl's life.

The head of the FFS network who I work with on a daily basis was hobbling around today and it turns out he had accidentally gashed his leg open with a panga (a Kenyan Machete) while harvesting crops in his shamba. I insisted that he go to a doctor but since those cost money it really wasn't much of an option for him, so I treated him to a tetanus shot (he's never had one), and took him to the pharmacist for antibiotics and disinfectants, all for less then ten dollars. So, my good deed is done for the day.

Anyway, I need to get back from my lunch break so here are some pics and I hope to post again soon:

Here is a sunset from the campsite we stayed at on Lake Victoria. I also have a picture of the hippos coming out of the water in the evening but it's really dark so it will have to wait until I have a chance to try and brighten it up.

Here is the Kisumu Beach Resort. It's not a bad deal at 300 shillings (about $4) a night.

Here is a sketchy boat we rented and went across the bay in. Hard to believe, but she's sea-worthy. Friends who have been on canoe adventures with me realize that I've been through much worse!!

Here is a snap from the New Years Dance party on the top of a boat on Lake Victoria

Woohoo! My first camel ride. Really exciting stuff. We trotted around the campsite for a few minutes and that was about the end of it.

On the boat on Lake Victoria

Happy New Years 2006

This last week has been pretty good. It's been low key and relatively laid back so I've had a chance to get things in order around the house, run a few errands for work, and swing down to Kisumu for New Years without too much of a hassle. Things will surely change tomorrow since the holidays are officially over and I'll be staying busy at the office, but it was a much needed breather between training and adjusting to life in Kakamega.

So anyway, I definitely had a New Years I won't forget for awhile. We camped on the shore of Lake Victoria at a place called the Kisumu Beach Club at a surprisingly nice campsite. I'll have plenty of pics to upload once I get them off my camera so hopefully I can post them later this week. The biggest problem with the lake (and pretty much all fresh water lakes and streams in East Africa) is that it's full of some kind of snail-borne disease called Schisto, which is something that's apparently a pretty nasty thing to have. Even though there's a beautiful lake beckoning us to swim while roasting under the heat of a near sea level equatorial sun, we were forced to do everything in our power to stay out of the water. I'm pleased to say that no, we didn't swim but we did finally break down and take a rickety, leaky old boat out into the bay. I'm sincerely hope the little bit of water that got on my feet and sprayed me from the side of the boat was Schisto-free.

The ride through the bay was fantastic though. We didn't go far but it was beautiful and it's incredible how big the lake is. Off in the distance are hills that seem dozens of miles away, and I assumed that was the other side of the lake, but according the the Kenyan I spoke with they are actually on an island and the lake continues further...amazing. After the boat ride, dusk began to set in and giant hippos starting emerging from the water. Where something that big can go during the day and remain unseen is beyond me, especially since the two hungry, hungry hippos nearest to us were bigger than anything I've ever come across in a zoo. From what I've gathered, although they appear docile, hippos are pretty stupid and have bad attitude so we did our best to keep our distance. We grew nervous when they came out of the water and started grazing in the grass about 30 yards from our tents, and even more so when one yawned and opened a mouth that had to have been 10 feet across. Amazingly, after about an hour of watching the hippos steadily munch their way closer to our tents a brave little dog that could easily have been trampled went charging after the hippos and chased them back into the water. It was one of the craziest things I've ever seen.

So after that excitement the owner of the Kisumu beach club, who one of the volunteers had made friends with earlier, invited us out on his yacht, so at about ten thirty we boarded the yacht and went across the bay to the Kisumu yacht club. This club is apparently invitation only and very expensive, so since we weren't invited and didn't want to pay a cover charge we simply docked our boat off shore from the club house and danced to the music playing from the club on the roof of the boat. We even counted down the new year with the people on shore and blew the horn on the boat to bring in 2006. We called it a night and I woke up the next day to find that a hippo had been grazing just a few feet away from our tents while we were sleeping.

So that's my adventurous new year. I hate to admit that I drank a little more than I should of so my first day of 2006 wasn't the most welcoming, but a lot of time has passed since college and it was probably good for me to re-learn a valuable lesson about where my limits are.

So in other news, this week I hope to start looking into packaging and selling sweet potato flour and juice as opposed to simply shipping the raw materials, and last week I went to a VCT (testing/counseling center for HIV/AIDS) to speak with a nurse and I found out that treatment is readily available for the orphan girl sick with AIDS. However, she needs to have a signed document from the Chief of the village stating that her guardian (not sure who that would be) supports her in getting the treatment. So there's still plenty of hoops to jump through regarding that but hopefully I'll continue to make progress.

Happy 2006!