Hakuna shida baba, what a poor daughter I would be if I didn't remind you of the hope that exists in the world and thank you for the positive affect you've had in my life. I'm glad you've "enjoyed" Gelvin's book on the Middle East. I know what you mean, it's hard to enjoy the book but the insight is invaluable in my opinion. I get a bit sick every time I read the news about the Middle East now. I'm also better able to judge what's going on because I know the "why" of events and how they fit into the larger picture. I'm pretty sure French's book on Africa will do the same. Both are pretty depressing and I don't mean to get you down but I think it's worth it. The knowledge will give you the ability to act with understanding.
I really don't want to go...it's going to be hard saying good-bye. I found a private school in one of the poorer neighborhoods of Mombasa I can teach at and I'm looking into getting a visa to come back here. No idea when. Maybe in the summer? If Barak Obama decides to run for president I want to work on his campaign trail - which gives me something to do after I graduate. But what then? Kenya most likely. Who knows.
I'll try calling you tomorrow morning because we're getting up early to go to Tsavo Safari. I don't really want to go because I NEED TO FINISH MY ISP but I understand this is very much a once in a life time experience. Grrr. I want to stay and work here and visit my Mombasa family. Grrr. I've attached a VERY rough draft of my ISP for you and mom to look at. I have so much more I need to do!
Friday, December 8, 2006
Wednesday, December 6, 2006
correspondence 12/6/06
Beautiful -
Oh my gosh where to start! I'm taking a break from my ISP....
Ok I'm going to approach your email "chronologically" if you will - answering each point as I see it.
Reparations:
I know deep down reparations will never happen but I sure as hell think they should. I didn't before coming here but many things have changed. I don't think however, it should be in the form of monetary aid to governments. When I was alone on the island I heard an African professor (from Ghana no less) responding to Tony Blair's comments about reparations (god I love radio - even on a semi-deserted island I can keep up with the news). He said that reparations are a must and they should take the form of a true commitment to fair-trade in the West. Millions of Africans are being cheated and have become part of a new, though less brutal, form of slavery. This I'm sure you see in Ghana, just like I see it here in Kenya. One of the biggest problems I see is the exodus of Africans to places like Europe and the United States. Those who manage to leave generally don't come back, creating the famous "brain-drain" that is damaging African education and society. Before I continue I should say it feels a bit too ignorant to talk about "Africa" as if it was one country. There are variations to this trend etc, etc - you understand. I think solving this "brain-drain" problem should be part of reparations. However I get the feeling that's like telling an ant to go climb Mt. Kilamanjaro in an hour. I do think America and Europe should make it easier for Africans to study in their universities and colleges. Of course the counter point to that is, how could they be accepted to American/European schools if they can barely pass high school because of a lack of teachers, supplies etc. This is a "chicken or the egg?" dilema and therefore up for constant debate. Another problem with emphasizing education is how are they supposed to go to school if they have malaria/cholera/aids/pneumonia and so on? Ultimately, after hours of thought, I decided that no way one big umbrella plan will work for reparations. Nothing could solve all these problems at once. I am a firm believer in grass-roots organizations, I think they are the future of aid in Africa and other countries. Providing resources, not just monetary, to those organizations would be a helpful start. The point about fair-trade was also a good one.
I haven't read "The Constant Gardener" or seen the movie...yet, do you recommend both?
Aid Workers:
My opinion about aid workers changed our freshman year when I read one of the readings in that massive core I book. It was an insightful and bitter critique of the Peace Corps by a Nepalese man. I'll never forget how depressed I felt after I finished it. I felt my dreams come toubling down around me. Again, being here has changed that. There are benefits and disadvantages to aid workers. The Peace Corps began as a subtle propaganda move under I think the Kennedy administration. American kids were sent out to "help" those poor defenseless third-worlders who can't teach or build bridges by themselves (kindly note sarcasm). If, in the mean time, they spread the ideologoy of democracy in the face of encroaching communism so much the better. Brilliant PR move. Brilliant. HOWEVER if you ask, what right do we have to spread that ideology, I'd respond with what right do we have to deny it? Cultural exchange does not have mean the spreading of ideology. There are many aspects of Swahili society I think the US could benefit from and there are other parts I'm happy to leave here in Kenya. From what I've seen here cultural exchange is a two-way street. There are aspects of US life which appeal to the folks I've met and there's a lot that doesn't. I feel people have the right to pick and choose. Culture is dynamic, it's meant to change - it's been changing for centuries.
Here in Kenya aid workers, especially ones who speak English are incredible resources. The country has two languages, English (the official) and Kiswahili (the national). Of course there are over 40 other different dialects on top of those two. Kiswahili and English are both taught in primary school but after that all the classes are in English. It's idiotic on the coast where the majority of people speak Kiswahili or a language close to it. Up-country it works better because there are more languages, English becomes a common denominator of communication. Ok, imagine the consequences of being taught English by someone who doesn't really know it themselves, who isn't a native speaker, who has never been to an English speaking country. I'm not necessarily endorsing the teaching of English in an African country, but I do see the benefits of a common denominator language. Currently, someone well-versed in English has more opportunities and options than someone who can't speak a word. There are so many sub-issues to this. Knowledge of English means people receive their education in Western country furthering the brain-drain syndrome. If Kiswahili was mandatory like it is in Tanzania, then there could be a renaissance in literature, a move towards national unity, etc. However I'm not quite sure how well that would go over with the Luo and Kikuyu who aren't Swahili and don't care to speak it. I feel like I'm going off on a tangent...back to aid workers. I guess my take on the situation is that you've got to start somewhere. And if you're going to start, start small but in many places. I wish the Peace Corps would hire African, Asian, European, Latin American teachers...why restrict it to just Americans?
I definitely take your point about creating this visicious dependency cycle. I have no idea what to do. Great answer huh? I seriously have no clue. If we give them aid, it's just an easy way out. If we don't, we may be doing more damage than good. We wil talk more on this when we get back...I need to think on it.
Oh my gosh where to start! I'm taking a break from my ISP....
Ok I'm going to approach your email "chronologically" if you will - answering each point as I see it.
Reparations:
I know deep down reparations will never happen but I sure as hell think they should. I didn't before coming here but many things have changed. I don't think however, it should be in the form of monetary aid to governments. When I was alone on the island I heard an African professor (from Ghana no less) responding to Tony Blair's comments about reparations (god I love radio - even on a semi-deserted island I can keep up with the news). He said that reparations are a must and they should take the form of a true commitment to fair-trade in the West. Millions of Africans are being cheated and have become part of a new, though less brutal, form of slavery. This I'm sure you see in Ghana, just like I see it here in Kenya. One of the biggest problems I see is the exodus of Africans to places like Europe and the United States. Those who manage to leave generally don't come back, creating the famous "brain-drain" that is damaging African education and society. Before I continue I should say it feels a bit too ignorant to talk about "Africa" as if it was one country. There are variations to this trend etc, etc - you understand. I think solving this "brain-drain" problem should be part of reparations. However I get the feeling that's like telling an ant to go climb Mt. Kilamanjaro in an hour. I do think America and Europe should make it easier for Africans to study in their universities and colleges. Of course the counter point to that is, how could they be accepted to American/European schools if they can barely pass high school because of a lack of teachers, supplies etc. This is a "chicken or the egg?" dilema and therefore up for constant debate. Another problem with emphasizing education is how are they supposed to go to school if they have malaria/cholera/aids/pneumonia and so on? Ultimately, after hours of thought, I decided that no way one big umbrella plan will work for reparations. Nothing could solve all these problems at once. I am a firm believer in grass-roots organizations, I think they are the future of aid in Africa and other countries. Providing resources, not just monetary, to those organizations would be a helpful start. The point about fair-trade was also a good one.
I haven't read "The Constant Gardener" or seen the movie...yet, do you recommend both?
Aid Workers:
My opinion about aid workers changed our freshman year when I read one of the readings in that massive core I book. It was an insightful and bitter critique of the Peace Corps by a Nepalese man. I'll never forget how depressed I felt after I finished it. I felt my dreams come toubling down around me. Again, being here has changed that. There are benefits and disadvantages to aid workers. The Peace Corps began as a subtle propaganda move under I think the Kennedy administration. American kids were sent out to "help" those poor defenseless third-worlders who can't teach or build bridges by themselves (kindly note sarcasm). If, in the mean time, they spread the ideologoy of democracy in the face of encroaching communism so much the better. Brilliant PR move. Brilliant. HOWEVER if you ask, what right do we have to spread that ideology, I'd respond with what right do we have to deny it? Cultural exchange does not have mean the spreading of ideology. There are many aspects of Swahili society I think the US could benefit from and there are other parts I'm happy to leave here in Kenya. From what I've seen here cultural exchange is a two-way street. There are aspects of US life which appeal to the folks I've met and there's a lot that doesn't. I feel people have the right to pick and choose. Culture is dynamic, it's meant to change - it's been changing for centuries.
Here in Kenya aid workers, especially ones who speak English are incredible resources. The country has two languages, English (the official) and Kiswahili (the national). Of course there are over 40 other different dialects on top of those two. Kiswahili and English are both taught in primary school but after that all the classes are in English. It's idiotic on the coast where the majority of people speak Kiswahili or a language close to it. Up-country it works better because there are more languages, English becomes a common denominator of communication. Ok, imagine the consequences of being taught English by someone who doesn't really know it themselves, who isn't a native speaker, who has never been to an English speaking country. I'm not necessarily endorsing the teaching of English in an African country, but I do see the benefits of a common denominator language. Currently, someone well-versed in English has more opportunities and options than someone who can't speak a word. There are so many sub-issues to this. Knowledge of English means people receive their education in Western country furthering the brain-drain syndrome. If Kiswahili was mandatory like it is in Tanzania, then there could be a renaissance in literature, a move towards national unity, etc. However I'm not quite sure how well that would go over with the Luo and Kikuyu who aren't Swahili and don't care to speak it. I feel like I'm going off on a tangent...back to aid workers. I guess my take on the situation is that you've got to start somewhere. And if you're going to start, start small but in many places. I wish the Peace Corps would hire African, Asian, European, Latin American teachers...why restrict it to just Americans?
I definitely take your point about creating this visicious dependency cycle. I have no idea what to do. Great answer huh? I seriously have no clue. If we give them aid, it's just an easy way out. If we don't, we may be doing more damage than good. We wil talk more on this when we get back...I need to think on it.
Tuesday, December 5, 2006
correspondence 12/5/06
Be gentle with yourself. Our time here is precious, do not waste it on might've beens and should've dones. You've guided me through life's myriad environs with a steady hand, loving heart, understanding and patience. As I approach the time when I will stand on my own I am not afraid. Do you know why? Because I carry with me your lessons - they are written in all my actions and many of my dreams. How many other young women can say the same of their fathers? Take a moment to contemplate how unique your gifts to this world are. You have successfully raised a daughter, given her a future, given her maps to guide her through life and the strength to live it. Though these things are not tangible like donations to a charity or hours spent at a soup kitchen they are perhaps more important. You had the courage and insight to defy a centuries old social structure that denies my worth. You taught me to believe in myself, love myself and pursue my dreams without fear. In a world where women are treated at sub-humans, either covertly or overtly, understand the worth of your contribution.
Don't feel like you haven't done enough, only realize you have the ability to do more.
Don't feel like you haven't done enough, only realize you have the ability to do more.
correspondence 12/5/06
I cannot begin to tell you how meaningful your emails have been in the past weeks. The first one you sent felt like a warm cup of tea to my withered spirit. Tears welled up in my eyes as I read your advice, sent with so much love and understanding. I have taken everything you wrote to heart. Thank you so so so much - I really can't begin to tell you how much these emails mean to me. Not to be hyperbolic but I felt like I was drowning and you threw me a rope.
I look forward to seeing you, hopefully soon (mungu akipenda - or God wishing, there's an arabic version of that phrase but I have no idea how to spell it). I'm getting better. Your emails have really helped and I've also been using my traditional spirit-lifiting methods. I went to church on sunday with some of the girls on the program which made me feel a lot better. I'm not one for the preaching or organized religion really but it was comforting nonetheless. The service was colorful, vibrant and exciting - full of music, dancing and love. I needed to see that type of hope and happiness, it gave me courage. I'll keep you posted on my re-entry process. Hopefully we'll cross paths soon!
I look forward to seeing you, hopefully soon (mungu akipenda - or God wishing, there's an arabic version of that phrase but I have no idea how to spell it). I'm getting better. Your emails have really helped and I've also been using my traditional spirit-lifiting methods. I went to church on sunday with some of the girls on the program which made me feel a lot better. I'm not one for the preaching or organized religion really but it was comforting nonetheless. The service was colorful, vibrant and exciting - full of music, dancing and love. I needed to see that type of hope and happiness, it gave me courage. I'll keep you posted on my re-entry process. Hopefully we'll cross paths soon!
Saturday, December 2, 2006
notes from a small island
Dear friends and family,
I got back two days ago from my 10 day stay at Takwa Ruins on Manda Island near Lamu. I worked on creating hard copy images of wall-drawings at the aforementioned ruins. I lived alone but for 3 fishermen who had huts down the hill from me. It was...an opportunity to think and be alone. The area was breath-takingly beautiful. I watched the sun rise and set every day. In one direction was the overwhelming seascape of Indian Ocean, and in the other a green expanse of mangrove forests, occasional baobab trees and the distant Lamu Town. There were brightly colored weaver birds, butterflies, the occasional small monkey, lizards a-plenty, fish, lobster, crabs, and insects of all denomination. I had two run-ins with the baboons that frequent the area, and on both occasions my heart was in my throat. Takwa is extremely hard to access because of its secluded location and the fluctuating tides. Had I been bitten by a baboon -according to the fisherman they are fierce and unfriendly- I would've had to wait a long time before getting medical treatment. When I asked Ali (one of the fisherman) what I should do if I saw or heard one, he said in the most matter of fact voice, "Andoka!" or "Leave!". I took his advice.
After a few days of work I felt the irony of my situation. I was working on ruins that few in Kenya, let alone Africa or the world, know or care about, studying images even fewer people know or care about (which will in the end be destroyed by the weather and lack of care). A hundred miles north of me (Somalia) there's violence, a hundred miles south of me people have been driven from their homes because of flooding, roads are inaccessible and bridges are drowned. Food, medical supplies, and general everyday necessities are astronomically expensive because of the condition of the roads. My Kaloleni family's house collapsed - they're sleeping outside. And I was working in paradise, on esoteric and decaying remains of a once glorious city-state. Few would actually benefit from my "research", even myself to some extent. However, the exprience was worth every wasted second. Introspection is invaluable and natural beauty does much to heal the mind. I almost wanted to start this email with, "I went to Takwa to live delibrately..." but refrained. Oddly enought it's close to the truth.
I intended in this email to expand on the current social, economic and political ills in Kenya because I didn't do them justice in the previous email. However I'm going to put it off for another time, perhaps over tea when I'm back in the US you can ask me. Though I'll probably say I don't know where to start.
I'm in the middle of "A Continent for the Taking" and it's been a bit difficult to read. It's an excellent book but heart-breaking. He describes many of the things I've seen in Kenya without the sugar coating I've given you (although the book focuses mostly on Western and Central Africa). I'll read passages and my memory jerks me back to streets in Malindi, or the villages in Kaloleni. One part stood out enough for me to bring the book to the internet cafe and copy it for everyone. "More than a million Africans die every year from malaria without raising a peep in the wealthy countries of the world. Struggling for a way to depict the scale of this disaster, the Tanzanian researcher Wen Kilama said, 'Imagine seven Boeing 747s filled mostly with children crashing into Mount Kilimanjaro each day, and you begin to get an idea of malaria's horrifying toll.'" Two girls on the program have already had malaria. My friend Ali who works at our guest house just recovered from malaria. Medicine is expensive, he and all of us are lucky we can afford it. In the US that type of statistical information would've drawn sighs of sympathy from my breast but no more. Here it's different. Everyday I see those children who get malaria, who are on that Boeing 747 flight into Kilimanjaro. I pass them in the streets. I slept next to them - they were my sisters for a week. I left my mosquito net in Kaloleni on purpose, I didn't care how much it would cost me or SIT. Of course there's more of the book I want to share but I don't have the time. Possibly the most difficult part to read is the history. Reading about what Europe and the United States have done to African countries for 500 years makes me want to vomit. I don't care what kind of "aid" we give, it'll never in my opinion atone for centuries of violence, greed, rape, distruction and slavery.
My experiences finally caught up with me this afternoon and I spent a good portion of my day in tears. As I come closer to leaving, images of life back home saturate my thoughts. They creep slowly, like tentacles, into every crevice of my brain providing a sickening contrast to the reality before and behind me. The dirt, the poverty, the garbage did not affect me until today when I was able to vividly picture in my mind the clean streets and affluence of Blue Ridge Drive. I know the going back will be harder than the coming here. I also know giving up hope would be giving up on those who are making a difference in Kenya and other parts of Africa.
The "re-entry" will be hard, but not even half as hard as the lives I see here. All I can do is take Marieke's advice and live my life the best I can, with as much understanding and patience as possible and use what resources I have to make a difference.
I got back two days ago from my 10 day stay at Takwa Ruins on Manda Island near Lamu. I worked on creating hard copy images of wall-drawings at the aforementioned ruins. I lived alone but for 3 fishermen who had huts down the hill from me. It was...an opportunity to think and be alone. The area was breath-takingly beautiful. I watched the sun rise and set every day. In one direction was the overwhelming seascape of Indian Ocean, and in the other a green expanse of mangrove forests, occasional baobab trees and the distant Lamu Town. There were brightly colored weaver birds, butterflies, the occasional small monkey, lizards a-plenty, fish, lobster, crabs, and insects of all denomination. I had two run-ins with the baboons that frequent the area, and on both occasions my heart was in my throat. Takwa is extremely hard to access because of its secluded location and the fluctuating tides. Had I been bitten by a baboon -according to the fisherman they are fierce and unfriendly- I would've had to wait a long time before getting medical treatment. When I asked Ali (one of the fisherman) what I should do if I saw or heard one, he said in the most matter of fact voice, "Andoka!" or "Leave!". I took his advice.
After a few days of work I felt the irony of my situation. I was working on ruins that few in Kenya, let alone Africa or the world, know or care about, studying images even fewer people know or care about (which will in the end be destroyed by the weather and lack of care). A hundred miles north of me (Somalia) there's violence, a hundred miles south of me people have been driven from their homes because of flooding, roads are inaccessible and bridges are drowned. Food, medical supplies, and general everyday necessities are astronomically expensive because of the condition of the roads. My Kaloleni family's house collapsed - they're sleeping outside. And I was working in paradise, on esoteric and decaying remains of a once glorious city-state. Few would actually benefit from my "research", even myself to some extent. However, the exprience was worth every wasted second. Introspection is invaluable and natural beauty does much to heal the mind. I almost wanted to start this email with, "I went to Takwa to live delibrately..." but refrained. Oddly enought it's close to the truth.
I intended in this email to expand on the current social, economic and political ills in Kenya because I didn't do them justice in the previous email. However I'm going to put it off for another time, perhaps over tea when I'm back in the US you can ask me. Though I'll probably say I don't know where to start.
I'm in the middle of "A Continent for the Taking" and it's been a bit difficult to read. It's an excellent book but heart-breaking. He describes many of the things I've seen in Kenya without the sugar coating I've given you (although the book focuses mostly on Western and Central Africa). I'll read passages and my memory jerks me back to streets in Malindi, or the villages in Kaloleni. One part stood out enough for me to bring the book to the internet cafe and copy it for everyone. "More than a million Africans die every year from malaria without raising a peep in the wealthy countries of the world. Struggling for a way to depict the scale of this disaster, the Tanzanian researcher Wen Kilama said, 'Imagine seven Boeing 747s filled mostly with children crashing into Mount Kilimanjaro each day, and you begin to get an idea of malaria's horrifying toll.'" Two girls on the program have already had malaria. My friend Ali who works at our guest house just recovered from malaria. Medicine is expensive, he and all of us are lucky we can afford it. In the US that type of statistical information would've drawn sighs of sympathy from my breast but no more. Here it's different. Everyday I see those children who get malaria, who are on that Boeing 747 flight into Kilimanjaro. I pass them in the streets. I slept next to them - they were my sisters for a week. I left my mosquito net in Kaloleni on purpose, I didn't care how much it would cost me or SIT. Of course there's more of the book I want to share but I don't have the time. Possibly the most difficult part to read is the history. Reading about what Europe and the United States have done to African countries for 500 years makes me want to vomit. I don't care what kind of "aid" we give, it'll never in my opinion atone for centuries of violence, greed, rape, distruction and slavery.
My experiences finally caught up with me this afternoon and I spent a good portion of my day in tears. As I come closer to leaving, images of life back home saturate my thoughts. They creep slowly, like tentacles, into every crevice of my brain providing a sickening contrast to the reality before and behind me. The dirt, the poverty, the garbage did not affect me until today when I was able to vividly picture in my mind the clean streets and affluence of Blue Ridge Drive. I know the going back will be harder than the coming here. I also know giving up hope would be giving up on those who are making a difference in Kenya and other parts of Africa.
The "re-entry" will be hard, but not even half as hard as the lives I see here. All I can do is take Marieke's advice and live my life the best I can, with as much understanding and patience as possible and use what resources I have to make a difference.
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