A tragedy, a visitor, and lots of projects

In late January I had a visit from Jana, a friend of mine from Germany. Jana is currently a travel agent in Southern France and has always wanted to see Africa. We’ve been discussing her visit for over a year and decided she come in late January. The problem was that I had no idea how busy I would be. Beyond juggling about a dozen different farming projects, I was approved for both my wheelchair and poultry grants and recruited by my supervisor for computer training in three different farming networks. Regardless, I managed to get enough knocked out and rescheduled to set aside two weeks, assuming Jana didn’t mind a few work days in between.

On a Friday evening I picked up Jana at the Kisumu airport and we walked to the nearby Kisumu Beach Resort, a campsite on Lake Victoria. It was a long way to walk but Jana was not yet willing to risk a boda boda ride. Just three months ago I was at the same campsite, and it offered a beautiful view of the lake. Now it is completely covered by an invasive non-native floating plant, to the point where Kisumu bay appears to be a large green field. Regardless, we had a great view of the Kisumu skyline and the usual spectacular sunset, so all wasn’t lost.

Occasionally it dawns on me just how incredible it is that life has taken me here, and I stop for a moment to appreciate my surroundings. However, these moments drift further and further apart. Observing Jana’s perspective on Kenya helped me realize how adapted I’ve become to a culture where I initially felt so out of place. Everything from transport to food to the landscape and people differs greatly from the western world, and Jana was understandably a bit overwhelmed. On the other hand, I have more and more people jokingly tell me I’m becoming a Luhya (the tribe I live with in Kakamega), and I do feel Kenyan culture rubbing off on me. It’s an interesting place to be, and as I’ve said before, if nothing else I rarely find myself bored.

For about a week prior to Jana’s visit I was feeling pretty miserable. My inner ear hurt, I could barely swallow, and sores were breaking out on my face. I kept thinking that whatever it was would run its course, but it reached the point where I couldn’t even sleep. Beyond the intense pain in my ear, it felt like a metal barb was lodged in my throat. On Jana’s first morning in Africa I had no choice but to visit a doctor. Diagnosis: staph infection. The doctor told me that my ear canal had swollen shut and my throat wasn’t doing much better. Fortunately, strong antibiotics started to treat it within a day and it cleared up completely within a week.

Kenya has introduced me to all kind of wonderful illnesses and infections. Although I claim to live at a grassroots level with rural Kenyans, have access to Western-style health care. I can’t imagine where I would be without the barrage of vaccinations I’ve been given and access to quality medical treatment. Considering how I’ve fared, the people here are exceptionally tough to be able to get by as well as they do.

So Jana’s trip thus far consisted of a weed-filled lake and a doctor’s office, but things started to improve as we left Kisumu to see the Kakamega rainforest. Our travels that day included virtually every means of public transport available in Western Kenya: Tuk Tuk (three wheeled taxi) from the campsite to the stage, matatu to the dirt road, dog catcher style pickup truck (complete with a blowout and 30 minute delay) down the dirt road to Shunyalu village, and finally boda boda into the forest. It took some convincing to get Jana on a boda boda, but once she used the bicycle taxi she really enjoyed it. If you can get past how annoying the drivers can be it really is a great way to travel. Still, I arrived at the forest with a renewed sense of appreciation for private taxis and personal transport. I love that I can usually just bike to the forest as opposed to putting myself at the mercy of matatus and boda bikes.

At the forest we stayed at the “guest house”, a dirty lodge on stilts without electricity or hot water. At 400 shillings a night it’s hard to complain, but as usual I thought longingly of the Rondo Resort, the upscale and beautifully landscaped cottages I plan to stay at when my parents visit. It was nearly dark when we arrived in the woods and there was little to do, so I was thankful for my primate watching friend Kristy. Although there is no electricity in the forest, Kristy’s house is exceptional. It is completely self-sufficient with solar panels on the roof and a rain catchment system for running water. Kristy let Jana and I spent the evening at her place we also visited the nearby observation tower overlooking the forest grasslands.

The next day was eventful. First, Jana and I went monkey tracking with Kristy. It is fascinating to observe monkey behavior with commentary from an expert. I learned a bit about how blue monkeys communicate and can differentiate between the meanings of a click, a hoot, and a growl. Following the monkey trek Jana and I climbed to the highest point in the forest. I’ve done this four times now but it was my first mid-day climb, and the sun was intense. My next stop on the forest tour is the bat cave, but Jana politely declined.

After the tour of the forest we relaxed for a bit at the Rondo Resort. Although we did not stay there, it was well worth an overpriced soda to sit in the courtyard and take in the beautiful landscape and colorful birds. I’ve been to the forest at least a dozen times and never get bored. Except for possibly the coast, it’s by far my favorite place in Kenya, and I’m so fortunate to live close by. Beyond the spectacular colors of the birds, insects, and flowers, the millions of shades of greens throughout the dense foliage make it a truly beautiful place to relax and unwind.

As such, I was content and happy when I was jolted by some tragic and awful news. Peace Corps medical called and informed me that Zelda, a friend in Kenya, had been killed near Nairobi along with her mother in a car jacking. I had first met Zelda with her daughter and their adopted seven-foot tall Sudanese refugee while in Mombasa. (A picture of them from August is posted on my blog). When she learned I was Peace Corps and she told me that she was the sister of my Peace Corps Medical Officer, we had much to talk about and quickly became friends. Since then I have been to her house several times, became friends with her husband, and spent Thanksgiving with them. We even made plans for a visit to my site and the Kakamega Forest early this year. Zelda was a wonderful person and a good friend, and her senseless death has been hard to come to terms with.

With much on my mind and a visitor to entertain, I was also busy with work over the next three days. The FAO donated computers and motorized bicycles to each of the three Western Kenya Farmer Field School Networks, and unfortunately my boss put me in charge of installing the computers and training the network officials on how to use them. NGO’s do some ridiculous things with their money. Yes, these farmers could use a computer for simple tasks like word processing and accounting. Regardless, I don’t see why it is necessary to give each network a top of the line Dell with a flat screen monitor, huge hard drive, and DVD burner. The printers, HP LaserJets, are cutting edge as well, and can print over 30 pages a minute. Our network already has one donated computer that is more than sufficient, and our simple, inexpensive HP DeskJet does everything we need it to. We use the printer often, and I am able to get the ink cartridge refilled for less than $5. My boss tells me that we cannot refill the cartridge on our new superprinter, and the replacement cartridge runs 7200 shillings (more than $100). Since no money has been allocated for the maintenance and upkeep of our computers, all it is going to take is for a cartridge to run empty one time to render the printer useless.

In terms of sustainability, the bicycles are an even bigger problem. There are Chinese made bicycles rigged with some kind of 50cc chainsaw motor. Within a few days of being donated to the networks they already started breaking down. In Kakamega a motor has already blown on one of the bikes, and there is plenty of bickering over how the repairs will be made. Of course, it was expected the funding would come from the network, but there’s no money set aside to maintain these things. Same goes for fuel costs, when prior to these motorized bikes people peddled to and from the office with no complaints.

To make matters worse some guy from Texas with lots of donor funding has been milling around lately. I haven’t had a chance to meet with him, and as it stands he wants to give motorcycles or even a small truck to the network to assist the farmers. The only problem is that no long term plan has been made on how to afford the upkeep, insurance, and maintenance on these things. From talking to the network officials I fear that the network’s source of income for the upkeep would come from acting as yet another middleman and taking the profits away from the farmers. It drives me crazy how people to come into Kenya for a few days then start throwing money around without any kind of exit strategy or plan for sustainability. It hasn’t worked for the past 50 years and it’s not going to start working now. Regardless, I do have a lot of hope for the sustainability of the network. I won’t go into it now but the DrumNet project has a lot of potential for all three Farming Networks.

Computer training promises to be quite frustrating as well. Most of the network officials I’m teaching are middle-aged but have never used a computer before. I’m told that, like foreign language, teaching computer literacy to children is easier, and I have reason to agree. Thankfully, the top officials of the Kakamega Network have already undergone training, but there is much to be done in the Busia and Bungoma, the other two districts. Just turning a computer on and off, using a mouse, and navigating through a simple tutorial took the better half of the day and I walked away from the Busia group in particular convinced they had really learned nothing. Double clicking is the worst. No matter how many times I demonstrated it and showed them how to hold the mouse, they couldn’t get it right. They would either take too long to click twice or end up moving the mouse slightly between clicks. As you can try for yourself this renders the double click useless.

Since I was practically raised with a computer it is hard to remember just how difficult it can be to use for the first time. Working with people for whom the computer is completely foreign showed me just how cumbersome and confusing it initially is. They were a bit discouraged at the end of the first day and I tried to convince them that over time it becomes second nature and almost instinctual. Of course, several weeks of the many low cost NGO-subsidized computer literacy classes would go a long way towards achieving this, but the FAO did not budget for anything beyond the hardware itself.

By Wednesday all three new computers were installed and further training was postponed until I set aside multiple days and plenty of patience. Jana and I had purchased a train ticket to the coast on Thursday and thankfully I had a day remaining to meet the Wake Up Women’s Group and talk about our project. As I’ve mentioned before, Wake Up Women is a group of 14 Kenyan Mamas, and each is supporting one of 16 HIV/AIDS orphans in their village. Although it took longer than expected (what doesn’t here?) I was approved for a grant to build a chicken house for over 100 birds. It is expected that the money generated from the poultry project will go towards providing a sustainable source of income for school fees, clothing, and health care for the kids. I met with the mamas and we discussed how to move forward now that the funding had arrived. We pieced together a shopping list for the materials required for the construction of the house, and I left the mamas in charge of gathering materials while Jana and I were finally able to head towards the coast.

The train ride to the coast takes two days. In theory, it leaves from Kisumu at 6pm then arrive in Nairobi at 8am. It then leaves that night at 6 and arrives in Mombasa by 9am. It’s a timely way to travel but it’s the only safe and comfortable way to get across the country at night and you sleep most of the time.

Since the train arrives in Nairobi in the morning and with luck is only an hour or so late, we planned for a full day in the capital city. Since our travel plans left little time to go on Safari, the original plan was to spend the day at Nairobi National Park, where giraffes, zebras, and lions supposedly roam behind the skyline of downtown Nairobi. However, I was invited to a memorial service for Zelda and her mother at 10:00am that day, and Jana graciously agreed to accompany me to the service. In return for missing Nairobi National Park, we agreed to spend a day on the coast visiting Shimba Hills, a game park near Mombasa.

Part of me was looking forward to the memorial service. I wanted to console Zelda’s sister and I knew the service would help me in finding a sense of closure for the tragedy. However, this is Kenya and I am Peace Corps, and as always I was at the mercy of public transport. The train scheduled to arrive at 8am never actually got to Nairobi. After a three hour delay in leaving Kisumu, we moved at a snail’s pace with plenty of unscheduled stops and broke down completely 20 miles from the city. The memorial service began at 10am. The bus that picked us up from the broken train and drove us the remaining few miles arrived in Nairobi at 4pm. With the next train leaving at six, that left just two hours in Nairobi, barely enough time to grab dinner and return to the station.

I hated missing the service but all was not lost. With the problematic train running eight hours late, we were able to see the majority of the route by daylight. Riding along the mountain tops offered phenomenal panoramic views of the Great Rift Valley and the Masai lands below. Regardless, after more than 20 hours sitting in a train it was painful reboarding for the next leg.

Despite the notorious unreliability of the train in recent times, it has had a tremendous impact on where Kenya is today. Nairobi did not even exist until around 100 years ago when it began as a small colonial outpost built as a central point on the train route between Mombasa and Lake Victoria. Furthermore, prior to the arrival of the British, the Masai had a prediction that has proven to be eerily true. They prophesied that a great iron snake would divide their land in half and mark the end of their world. Colonialism, Kenya’s development into a capitalist society, and plenty of tourism, all made possible by the great iron snake, seems to have done just that.

So...After a few short hours in Nairobi we boarded the train yet again. I should have known another problem was brewing when the train from the coast, expected to arrive in the early morning, rolled into the station at 5pm. Watching the unhappy people pour out of the train convinced me not to go through this again. I went to the station manager and asked him what the problem was. “There was flooding on the tracks” he said. “It’s all been cleared now. The train won’t be late again.”

With that encouraging news and finally on our last leg of travel to the coast, Jana and I boarded the train in good spirits, assuming the worst was over. Once again the train left the station late, creeping slowly forward and stopping in many random places throughout the night for unexplained reasons. The critical difference, when the sun came up the next morning and we were not yet halfway there, was the scenery. The landscape east of Nairobi is very Kitui-esque. That is, dry, scrubby, somewhat hilly, and uninteresting. Oh, and the sun was brutal, and brought the non-air conditioned train cars to nearly unbearable temperatures.

At 4:00pm, yet again, the train finally made it to Mombasa. We had sat in a train for 44 hours over a 48 hour period and I made a vow never to travel by train again. With a similar vow made for the night bus and cross country matatu trips, I’m running out of travel options. Now that I’ve written my way to the coast I need to take a breather. Things did improve from this point forward and I’ll write more soon. Remind me never, ever to get this far behind on my blog again.