Obama is scared of white people

Where to start..

Today was my third day working with HIV/AIDS and TB patients. We do home visits where we clean, cook and simply just chat to them. Today, after buying the necessary ingredients I actually cooked a traditional Kenyan meal called Ugali (maze with water) with Sukuma Wiki (spinach) for Judy, she is 43 and was made aware of contracting the virus only 5 months ago. Ugali is cheap and filling. The vegetables make for a nutritious meal to have with their medication.

Obama is a young child of a neighbour to Judy. We are not sure how many, if any white people he had seen before, but he was absolutely terrified of us. His mum picked him up and brought him to us to show him it was ok and touch our skin – he completely freaked out. Even the photo on my digital camera didn’t’ soothe him. It may have been funny if he wasn’t’ bordering hysterical, although his mum and other neighbours found it very amusing. Poor bugger, he hid for hours.

The HIV sufferers are all surprisingly open to discuss literally anything about their condition, how long they’ve had the virus, how they got it, how they feel, what medication they take etc….. they are pretty happy and coping well, but seeing them and their living conditions is tough.

I have moved to a home stay that is closer to where we are working. I am living in a slum North West of Nairobi, still quite close to the city. When we first arrived, I couldn’t believe they wanted us to get out of the car, let alone live here! Until you spend a couple of days here, the streets are pretty scary, but it seriously is ok, and the house where we live is very safe and secure. Also, it was disturbing to learn that anyone who is caught or openly accused of stealing here is stoned to death. If you find that someone has stolen something from you before they disappear, all you actually need to do is ask for it back and they will return it. Seriously – if they don’t’ give it back and you yell ‘thief’, it is a guarantee they will be publicly stoned to death.

Before making our placement on Tuesday, Cim and I also spent the day in our home mother’s orphanage/school she started 3 years ago. Despite their seriously snotty noses and tendency to grab at my skin, hair and clothing at EVERY opportunity, it was a great experience. We were not told we were going to the school until we had breakfast, neither did the other teachers. I was given the 5yo class, asked to sit, handed a piece of white chalk and be told ‘you teach now’. Oh shit! :-)

It was fun. They constantly have their hands in the air yelling ‘teacher, teacher, teacher….’ We did some drawing and when their pencils become blunt, I asked the teacher if I could sharpen them, ‘oh sure’ she said, then handed me a flimsy razor blade. Seriously. I had to sharpen 26 pencils and had little cuts and slices all over my fingers. The kids loved watching me concentrate so hard, I’m sure they snapped their leads just to watch me struggle again. The teacher (Elina) was thrilled to bits when I gave her a pencil sharpener the next day. For lunch, we had boiled rice, sauerkraut and chai tea. The kids love to sing, or is it screaming?

As a project, Cim and I have decided to take a photo of each student in our class rooms and have them design their own photo frame. Something we are really looking forward to starting next week.

I know things work completely different here, but I was still pretty shocked when I saw the teacher strike children with a solid stick and slap a young boy a number of times around the head. I had to turn away and bite my tongue – it was hard

Walking the streets, whether it be children or adults, all we constantly hear is, ‘hello Mzungu, how are you?’ (Each word pronounced slowly and with sincerity) Mzungu means ‘white person’. It’s surprising that everyone here has, at the very least, a good grasp of the English language. This of course is brilliant because my Kiswahili is currently limited to only 6 or 7 words. The people here are really friendly and actually never bother you to buy things (a marked difference from Bali) – although I hear it is different at the Maasi Markets.

The poverty, rubbish and pollution is shocking. It compares with Nepal, but instead of pigs roaming the drains and rubbish, there are goats and dogs.

This weekend we are going away on an ‘outreach’ weekend in the rural areas – also our first chance to see some wildlife. Can’t wait to experience it and tell you all about it.

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