Week 3 Protests in Nairobi

Another image from the garden I wrote about last week

Last year there were huge protests in Nairobi to the government raising taxes. They are known as the Gen Z protests and they culminated on June 25 when they stormed the legislative buildings. 60 people lost their lives in that protest. This year to commemorate the lives of the 60 young people that died last year, there was planned peaceful marches all across the country. The problem? Well, just before I arrived a blogger that was critical of the police died in police custody. There have been protests regularly about police brutality since I have been here. Police brutatlity is a thing here. I saw video footage of a couple officers shooting an unarmed man point blank in the head at a protest. It looked completely unprovoked--I mean maybe he said something, but his actions were not threatening--he was walking away from them and he wasn't even one of the protesters. He was a hawker selling face masks. Those policemen have been arrested. So you had this stuff about police brutality simmering already before the June 25th commemoration. Unfortunately, it too became deadly. At least 16 people were killed. There are still roads that are barricaded as a result. Basically it hasn't been safe for me to go to the city centre since I have been here. 

These are not my pictures--just some of the striking images I saw related to this event

My school made me sign up for this International SOS app that sends me warnings any time there is any potential for danger. And apparently sent me messages and  CCed my school's study abroad department. They sent a message of "fatal unrest during anti government protests" and asked if I was okay. They must've texted me, because I never got a message and I have a different number and SIM while I am here. So yeah, l worried my school a little bit. But we stayed in on Wednesday. I ordered food on uber eats and it took over an hour for it to get to us--and I ordered late. We didn't get our food until almost 10:30. And then I was told to stay in on Thursday too. It wasn't so bad for me because I had to spend both days writing the report. I finally got the first draft done and now I have a bunch of things I need to fix. It was pretty hard for me to go back to it, but now I have faced and am working on it again. It feels like I will never finish. But I think it has been pretty boring for the kids. 

Besides working on this report I have been doing work with Mathare Roots. They are a youth-led grassroots organization that operates in Mathare which is one of the many areas of informal housing in Nairobi. I read, while working on my report that 60 % of Nairobi's population lives in informal housing. My first day there, the leader had another girl show me around and take me to her house. That was awkward. It would have been easier with a companion. I can't adequately describe what Mathare is like. On the drive there, you just can tell you are in a much poorer part of town. The streets are so busy with people walking around, others set up at little stalls selling everything, and men pulling wagons--they look like modern handcarts--sometimes stacked unbelievably high with things like potatoes or water. Every now and then on the drive you pass a huge pile of garbage that people are picking through to get plastics that they can sell. Also, there is always smoke and burning.

Mathare itself is an informal settlement so the streets are lined with ramshackle shacks and so many people. Sharon's "house" was in an apartment building, but not like anything you can imagine. I had to duck to enter the building, there was no lighting in the corridor or up the stairs--it was pitch black--we had to use our phones. The house was a small room with a bunk bed where she sleeps with her mom and sister. The walls and ceiling were corrugated metal held supported by rough logs. Her dad sleeps in a different room because there is not enough room in that one for him. I had a little visit with her and her parents and then we walked back through the neighbourhood. People were staring and little children ran up to shake my hand or waved at me. Some men approached to ask for money. And there was garbage everywhere. Plastic is ground into the ground everywhere. There were goats and chickens roaming around and eating the garbage. (goats were eating the garbage not the chickens.)

A big project that Mathare roots is working on is called Mto wangu which translates to be "my river." The mathare river runs right through the settlement and is so polluted. Sharon tells me that raw sewage is dumped into it and it smells like it. On one side of the river they cleaned up all the garbage and built a play ground and a little outdoor community area with a little gazebo like structure and planted trees. They also have started a little urban farm there. It is in stark contrast to the other side of the river which I think the government owns. I have seen the before pictures. I will try to share them on here so you can see. 

On Saturday's they have kids events and I was encouraged to bring the kids, so I did. Yesterday it was just Malachi because Elizabeth had a young women's activity. I showed up with Malachi at the arranged time and had to wait at least a good 15 minutes for Sharon to come. (Apparently that is a cultural thing). We walked down to the community area where they were cooking for the children. There are some women in the organization that cook lunch for around 200 kids every Saturday. They were cooking over an open fire. We waited for a long time for Austen to show up with  some paint. Sharon said this is what happens when she has to work with boys--they are always late. :)

After around an hour Austen came with half a can of paint and one paint brush. Today's event we were to paint picnic tables with the kids. Sharon, by the way is always wearing very clean white footwear. That day she was also wearing what looked to be a brand new white shirt. I thought she was very brave to paint with little kids that way. She told me she was just careful. They did manage to get one more giant paintbrush from a little shop across from the playground that didn't really fit into the can, but they made it work. Many kids gathered around to paint--Malachi got a couple of turns. The kids there treat him like a celebrity. There was a group of giggling girls around him and followed us when we left. He thought they were very annoying and bratty. haha. 

I took this when there weren't as many kids around. And no, Austen is not actually holding the paint can over Malachi's head. Note all the garbage across the river.

Last Saturday we participated in the Saturday library day. The library was built by UFV students. It is a small room with some shelves with books that the children seem quite eager to look at and read. Many children come there to do their homework. Sharon asked me to tell the kids a story so I told them the story of Sambo. Then she told them the story again in Swahili. They were given some paper and pencils to draw from the story or anything else. Malachi quickly gave up and so Lizzie started drawing. Soon she had a circle of little girls around her watching her draw and then trying to copy her. One of the little girls started playing with both of our hair. She had a cough and that was the most disturbing part to Elizabeth. After that we walked to a neighbouring area where they had a big event to give away pads for girls. Many girls can't afford pads. We went there at noon (when it was supposed to start). It didn't start until 2:15.  As part of the event, one of the organizers got up and explained the menstrual cycle and early symptoms of pregnancy. Apparently a lot of girls don't know. We watched a short video about girls in Kenya. 64% of girls in Kenya can't afford pads. In the video it said often their parents don't care and so they go to the shopkeeper who will give them pads if they sleep with him. Teen pregnancy and HIV is really high in Kenya.

I am doing other stuff with Mathare roots too. I had a meeting with them and UN-Habitat about international youth day. I have been assigned to work with some of the other people on the team to come up with a concept note for the event. The UN is hosting it in Kenya this year and they want Mathare to do something in their neighbourhood as well. I am going to be running a workshop where I help them write their CVs and to become more employable (unemployment is really high in Kenya). Aside from the leader of Mathare, who does some work for the UN, all the other people I have interacted with are volunteers. And I am supposed to help them with their urban farm. This needs to happen actually, for them to get some funding (and me as well)

 

I am so amazed by what I see happening in Mathare. There are these people that are living in such abject poverty yet they are doing so much to improve their community. Sharon told me that a lot of the people that I see sitting around in Mathare are drunk and that we passed a place where they were making their own alcohol. The children in the area have so much against them, but whenever I see them, they are lively and cheerful. My first week there I attended an event celebrating the day of the African child. Some classes from the nearby school were there. Children participated without reservation. One class did a skit about the harm of doing drugs that got a lot of the other children laughing. Other classes gave speeches--they were so energetic. One class sang--it was actually such a cultural experience for me. I witnessed some things that I had only seen in documentaries. Every now and then a drunk man would wander into the performance area and have to be pulled away. One man kept approaching a little girl that was doing a dance. He kept trying to give her money but she didn't want it. Finally she accepted it so he would leave. It was cool seeing them dance. I could watch that all day. 

So now you know a little about what I'm doing here. I hope I didn't bore you.

2 weeks in Kenya

It is my second Sunday here in Nairobi. I am sitting in the chapel while Elizabeth practices the piano. It seems it is common for church here to go over. Last week my Sunday School class went 20 minutes over and I got out earlier than the kids. They got out 10 minutes later. We stayed a long time after church because the kids wanted to practice the piano. We stayed at least 2 hours longer and there were still lots of people there when we left. The building is also open during the week. The property has a gate with security guards, but the doors were literally wide open when we came during the week. Maybe because there isn't a whole lot for them to do, Malachi and Elizabeth like going to the church to practice. We went two times last week and both times we stayed for a couple hours. If only they were this keen to practice at home!

I got sick this last week. I think it is because I couldn't sleep. Jet lag really kicked my butt this time. I kept waking up between 2:30 and 3:30 and couldn't fall back to sleep. A couple nights of that and I was so exhausted that I finally turned it around. But not before getting a cold. And I could not find good tissue! I had to use stiff two-ply stuff that was so rough. Luckily I wasn't sick for long.

I have been working hard on a report for my professor, so I haven't done as much touristy stuff with the kids. I had 30 pages of notes to go through to make an outline which I sent to her to review. She said I am writing a thesis--she just needs a report and to focus on our findings from the research we have done. The problem is, I don't really know what our findings are...we are still getting information in... and she desperately needs a rough draft by Wednesday. I don't really know how to do a rough draft. I usually just write and polish as I go along. This professor was always  a little hard to know what she wanted when I had assignments from her. I am worried that I will not do a good enough job--I feel I'm in way over my head. But she is always very encouraging and positive, so I will plug along and make sure I meet her deadlines and hope and pray I am doing it right.

One of the times after taking the kids to the church to practice, we went to the Fairview hotel. (It is near the church and my professor recommended it.) It has a beautiful tropical garden and an outdoor restaurant. It was a little pricey, so we didn't get a lot, but the food was yummy and the fuinki was good. I wish now as I am writing this that I took more pictures, but I didn't really take any that would do it justice.

We thought the view of this palm tree was particularly interesting from right below…but even more so with the tops of our faces included.

The driving here is crazy! Thank goodness the Ubers are cheap because I could not drive here.  During heavy traffic a 3 lane road becomes 5 or 6 lanes with motorcyclists weaving in and out on all sides, pedestrians just crossing where ever they want, and hawkers walking between lanes of traffic selling their goods. If there is an opening that a driver can squeeze into to advance further, they will take it--sometimes driving several meters on the sidewalk. Either I don't understand the traffic lights or people drive through red lights all the time. When the road is congested often motorcycles and even the occasional car will jump into the opposing lane when there is no oncoming traffic and drive in that lane until the oncoming traffic arrives and which point they mash themselves back into the congested traffic. If drivers want to cross a road and the traffic is heavy on that road, drivers will just start moving across the road--pushing their way through until they have crossed it. Cars and buses merge aggressively--so many times there have been close calls and I thought we going to be in an accident. Basically it seems like everyone does what they want and everyone lets them--even if they are just inches from the other car--and somehow it works out. I will try to make a video one of these times when we are in such traffic. One time I literally gasped and almost grabbed the driver's arm--I was sure we were about to be hit and then we weren't and we were fine. I felt a little sheepish.

Last Saturday we visited the a Giraffe centre. They breed rothschild giraffes and when they are 3 years old they release them into the wild. They release them at 3 years, because they aren't too tall to transport. Any later and they would have to worry about power lines. When this project started in the 70s there were less than 200 of this breed. Now there are over 1000. Maybe you saw the video of us feeding the giraffes. Where we first walked in to the centre, they gave us each a little dish with pellets to feed the giraffes. The lady told us to not feed them by just holding up the dish, or to hold up a flat palm; instead, she said, to hold the pellet between our thumb and forefinger to feed them. That sounded a little terrifying to me. When we got to the platform we learned why--the giraffes stick out their very long tongues and our job is to place the food on their tongue. If you just held out a flat palm, I imagine you would get slimed. It was fun to try to place the food on their tongues while not dropping it or getting licked. Malachi kept bragging that he never got touched by their tongues, but by the time we were done, he had been. Elizabeth was quite skittish of touching their tongues and dropped many pellets. The pellets were not wasted though because down at the feet of the giraffes were a couple of warthogs. The centre doesn't keep warthogs, they just come because warthogs have some sort of symbiotic relationship with giraffes. If I remember correctly, warthogs have much better hearing than giraffes and giraffes can see much further than warthogs. Maybe instead of Timone being some kind of rodent, he should have been a giraffe.

Apparently next to the centre is the manor the original conservationists lived in that is now converted into a hotel. If you stay there, the giraffes will come to the windows to be fed during breakfast. It makes me think of "The Friendly Giant."

There is so much more to say, but I think this post is already too long for people to actually want to read it, so I'll stop here.

happy ha ha no hi (mother's day)

When I look at my family I feel that I live such a charmed life.  My heart has been so filled with gratitude lately.  I am thankful that I am being blessed with another child.  I just can't express how excited I am to see him and hold him in my arms.  I feel like an ache from empty arms of 13 years ago is healing in some ways.  I can hardly believe it is happening and that in a few short days he'll be born.  As my pregnancy has drawn to a close, I have been reflecting on the special things about being pregnant.  Usually I focus more on the things I don't like...being huge, shortness of breath, achy hips, peeing all the time, heartburn, blah blah blah.  But like I said this time I have been reflecting on the other things.  The special moments that are mine and his alone;  the way I can feel him move;  the wonder of this little person growing inside of me.  In this last conference Sister Dalton in speaking to the young women said our bodies were temples because they have "the capacity to house not only our eternal spirit but also the eternal spirits of others who will come to the earth as part of your our eternal families."  And I have just really felt that miracle at this time.  And today being mother's day, I decided it was time to document my growing family in all my ginormous glory.  It took some convincing to get Brent to cooperate, but in the end he was a good sport--just too bad we had so little daylight left.  (1 of the advantages of being so far north right now was that we had any daylight left)

All of his big sisters are really excited and full of love for him already

Don't they look alike?

 

In Sunday school a few weeks ago the teacher told of an experience she'd had when she was praying in frustration about her children.  The answer that came to her was "if you only knew who I had sent to your home..." and that really struck me as being true of my own family.  I am blessed.  

  .

I tried a belly to belly picture with Brent but it looked terrible.  I think his belly is just too high.

I hope you are satisfied now Sarah.

 When I found out I was having a boy I had this amazing feeling wash over me.  Like God was blessing me with a very special child and that He knew of my heartache in the past.  I try to remember that feeling in my moments of doubt and fear like when he doesn't seem to be moving enough or when the doctor sends me to the hospital unexpectedly.  Sometimes it can be hard to have faith in those special moments that happened in the past when there is some scary possibility presenting itself to me in the here and now.  I'm scared for Tuesday--not looking forward to the last step I have to go through--but I just can't wait. 

the latest in my quickly changing life

Well it has been almost a year now and my wallpaper matches the season so I thought it was time to blog...And yesterday I was really feeling like writing, but I was too busy and now today the feeling has fled.  So I guess I'll make this brief.  Aside from packing and being a single mom for a month the reason why I was so busy yesterday was that I had an ultrasound and Natalie had an orthodontist appointment and we had to do papers...in the worse weather EVER!!!

When we started out to do papers it was snowing.  The kind that comes down really fast with huge flakes--really wet and accumulates fast on the ground.  'No problem' I thought, 'I'll wear my new winter boots from Brent.'  They're big white sorel boots.  Did I mention big?  They are huge!  Brent was trying to surprise me so he asked Michealah what size to get and she told him a 9.  A 9?!  Trying them on in the house they didn't feel too too big though and they were out of my size when I went to look at the store so I thought this would be a good time to try them out...Walking in them was exhausting.  They were so heavy and my foot slipped out so much it forced me to lift up with every footstep.  Then about half way into doing papers the snow changed to heavy pelting freezing rain.  So I had to shuffle along in these heavy too big boots in 5 cm of slush  while being soaked to the bone.  By the time I finished my hip flexors were so sore I could hardly walk.  My feet were kept toasty warm--too warm--I fantasized about taking them off and walking barefoot in the snow--but I imagine up there that'll be a good thing.  So now I just don't know what to do about the boots...

I went to the ultrasound trying not to be too hopeful about them reporting the gender to the doctor.  They never tell me the first time I go.  But I really needed them to tell me.  I told the technician about our move and needing to unload baby girl clothes if I wasn't having a girl and she said "fair enough"  and that if she could see she would put a picture in for the radiologist to see.  Then when she was showing us the baby, she went to have a look at the underside and sure enough the knees were bent and the feet were blocking any view.  'Again,' I thought.  But then she pushed on my tummy a few times which got the baby to move and she said "there's one butt cheek, and there's the other, and there's something right there"

Basketball

Mic plays basketball.  I was told before her first game that she needs another coach because her current one is having knee surgery in the middle of the season.  then i watched her first game.  it was torture.  Especially because parents aren't supposed coach from the sidelines.  We have to sign a pledge about this when they join a team.  So poor mic had to endure a barrage of insights about her game from both brent and myself after the game.  It was torture for Brent too.  So he decided he would help coach.  But he's not been the main coach until just now.  That made it a little better--Brent could just be my voice.  It was kind of strange, I think, how long Brent and I could go on talking about the games--some I didn't even watch, he just told me about them.  But still watching her games have still be a torturous experience for me and then I realized something.  I HATE sitting on the bench!  I want to get in and play myself.  When I watch a game and my team is just not that aggressive I want to get in and do something about it.  So I started looking around for a women's league.  All I could find was a co-ed one.  That is a little intimidating to me.  Besides I want to play--not just run up and down the court watching guys hog the ball.  Last week I got Brent to go to the church to play with me.  It was fun.  I got to work a little on my left side which feels a little rusty.  But there was some sort of impact between something hard and bony on him (an elbow maybe?) and my jaw.  It was a little painful to open my mouth wide for a few days.  Which makes me think, maybe I'm too old.  Maybe my body can't handle basketball anymore.  Maybe that is a risk I'm willing to take.  We all know who my father is.  I've been thinking it would be fun to play a little 2 on 2 with another couple.  Then maybe if I get my confidence and ability up we could join a summer outdoor league.

Thinking about basketball has caused me to reflect.  I loved playing basketball.  I changed schools just so I could play.  It was a part of me.  Now outside of my immediate family nobody even knows I played.  And some of them don't even really know this side of me.  Or they forget.  ("Sarah is the athletic sister") I think it is strange that things that I was so passionate about like basketball, running, and Japan, have become a much more hidden part of myself.  Those things are still there--they're just buried under my more obvious layers.  Why is this?  Maybe those interests are more self-centered.  I guess you could say a newer more important part of me is my family.  My time and energy is focused there and so that is what people who know me now see.  But sometimes I miss the old me.

humiliation

Yesterday was a busy day.  Well every day this time of year is busy but yesterday was particularly scheduled.  In the  morning I was off to help my friend pack.  (why do I always work so hard to help my friends move away?  why do they always move away?)  Ok didn't actually work that hard--just packed a few boxes and left her with a lot more still to do.  Then off to make cookies for a primary activity while E enjoyed a playdate.  The dough was already made so I just helped roll and cut them.  Rushed home to make dinner--there was supposed to be a basketball game to go watch but it was cancelled due to lack of parent drivers.  Mic knew I was going to watch but for some reason thought I couldn't drive...?  (I think 13 yr olds really do lose a bit of logical brain function)  So I did get a bit of a breather to make dinner. 

  We ate a rushed dinner and then off to a magic show at port theatre.  Jason got our family some tickets and we met up with him there.  He wanted to meet an hour early since the seating was just by whoever got there first.  We had to really hurry to meet him there that early.  As I started to quickly put on a little make up, Brent said "why are you doing that?  It is just going to be dark in there."  I said it wouldn't be dark the whole time and proceeded to put some eyeliner on but now I was convinced to not bother with anything else.  Well, we were there first.  Jason wanted to sit in the front row--but we convinced him to sit in the third row.

You probably guessed where this is going.  It wasn't only a magic show.  There were other entertainers there as well.  One of the acts was a comedic juggler.  He asked for a girl older than 18 to come up.  I slid down a little in my seat.  He looked in my direction and said "The girl there with the blonde curly hair"  I knew he was talking to me.  Behind me was Sawyer and his dad and behind them was my friend Erin with her family.  None of them had curly hair.  I looked imploringly at my husband to save me but of course he didn't.  I think you all know how much I deplore the spotlight. 

  Now I had to go up on stage in my most frumpy schlumpy clothes--you all know I have some(I was still wearing what I wore to help Michelle with her move) and be used for laughs.  I felt soooo AWKWARD!!!  He didn't require that much of me.  Just chain his hands in this weird contraption I didn't understand at first.  And put hacky sacks on his feet.  He made inappropriate jokes and then commented on my big wedding ring.  Brent pointed out later that after I chained his hands in he asked me to give him a high five and I didn't even notice that he had gotten his hand out of the chains.  I was just worried about catching the hacky sack. After I caught it he kept saying "chest bump"  There was no way.  I just kept backing away from him.  I was just so embarrassed.  For my humiliation I got a little picture of Ricky Martin.  (nat was shocked when I gave it to Nieve today)  He still kept talking about me and to me after I sat down.  It is now right up there as one of my most embarrassing moments--made only worse by the fact that there were several people I knew in the audience.

i hereby promise to post more and read more blogs.  hold me to it peeps!