11th July 2009
Roger came by yesterday and picked up the seven boxes that I had purchased with fundraised money. The boxes were metal and made locally, two of the E-merge volunteers helped me to paint them with the children’s names at the orphanage they were going to. We also decorated them with footballs and music notes as well as one with flowers for the one girl in the home. The end result was wicked, a brightly coloured set of boxes that each child can call their own and have their very own place to keep there belongings.
When roger came I showed him that there was a seventh box even though he only has six children at the home. I told him to open it and inside was a cheque for the first years worth of food for a new child at the home. He was absolutely chuffed that I was sponsoring, along with fundraised money, for a new child to come to the home.
I also made up some signs for him on the computer for his clinics talking about water hygiene (I printed versions in Kiswahili and English). To top all of this I asked if I could use donated money to cover the stock of medical equipment he had just bought to take up to the site.
Well that was it, I could tell he really appreciated and was very taken back.
[N.B. this is a month on and I received a text from Roger saying:
I took a six year old boy his name is Gared, he is OK but wets the bed and has had bad times! He now has a home and love, thank you]
16 july 2009
Painting Classrooms
Things seem to be a little more organised and calmer now. A few days ago Emerge volunteers Marcello and Ryan helped with the work I have been doing at St.Mark by painting a mural in the nuresery school.
20 july 2009
Re-laying classroom concrete floors (and all the stress involved)
Okay so today was quite, stressful but also pretty constructive and had quite a steep learning curve, well anyway….
So I had a text this morning asking what time I would be onsite at one of the schools I'm working with under the mixed veg' foundation banner. It also said how many tonnes of stone chips I would need for the project. At which point I texted the contractor to say to come to the house, we will go through the quote and by the chips together.
When he came he went through a new list of materials (different from the original quote) that he suddenly thinks is necessary. This new quote, excluding labour is more than double what he originally stated. I had already told myself this morning to be chilled and not get too uptight about getting this stuff sorted, but straight away stress levels go up. So I pretty much grill the poor guy on all the prices, stressing more and more as it seems like this project has gone from a few repairs to hundreds and hundreds of pounds.
So, eventually I hear that both floors have been hacked up to start work. I thought this was a pretty stupid move to do both at the same time. I really felt rushed by the contractor into the decision to start work, I think if I did have more time I would avoided starting both floors at the same time.
So I insisted that all work stopped and we head down to the site, eventually we get down there and see that the concrete top layer has been hacked out a few inches in both rooms revealing some previous repairs, marum and plastic sheeting in some places. The contractor explains that to be done properly all these materials are needed.
At this point I'm pretty pissed off with the whole project, partly because of what’s going on but also because I just felt I don’t have complete control over it. If someone says we need a bigger amplifier for a sound system, or the guests at an event need more time to eat; I know what I'm doing and can make a very good decision on what to do. But when I'm told this and that about the structure of the floor I know very little. To be honest I think the contractor knew very little too. I've seen his work, which is good, but I think he plucks prices out of mid air.
I really just wanted Dom to be around at this point. This is always how it goes; Alex gets stressed, Dom's laid-back personality chills Alex out (eventually) and they both logically work out problems. Well, Alex is deep in the slumbs on Nyalenda and Dom's half way round the world, who knows where. (must stop using third person now)
So I told everyone to pause work and that I’d be in contact later in the day. Coffee and a sit down were in order so I walked over to mega city (the mall kinda thing). After comparing two possible ideas for quotes I realised something.
My eureka Moment:
The original quote (with a few changes) was to repair the floor, what he was now quoting me was to re-lay the foundation!! Now, I never had intended to relay the fecking foundation and even though it would be a better long term flooring solution I doubt the walls will last that long, plus the fact if I'm going to lay a foundation it may as well be for a new class room, plus the fact the money is not there for that. The original plan was to fix the floor in a way better than patching….ahhhh finaly.
After informing the Head master, Chairman and contractor all seemed very happy. (I think they were pleased to see me with a smile on my face)
Getting the materials was good fun:
First, find a truck to hire.
Second, barter a price.
Third, barter more because he's giving me (white) mzungu price.
Fourth, get in truck and drive to quarry.
Fifth, meet quarry owner.
Sixth, discuss prices in his office.
Seventh, go outside to actually see the stone chips.
Eighth, ask prices again and decide on getting two different kinds
Ninth, barter on prices given.
Tenth, re-cap prices and see if they can do any better,
Eleventh, new lower price negotiated (even though he said his last price was best)
Twelfth, try and see if you can push any lower….I can’t so quit while ahead
Thirteenth, go into office while workers turn on machinery and pour into truck.
Fourteenth, discuss Kenyan politics over a soda.
Sixteenth, have a tour around quarry by owner
Seventeenth, go to office to shake hands and get receipt.
Eighteenth, check the back of the truck and leave.
Nineteenth, stop at hardware suppliers to get cement.
Twentieth, get price.
Twenty-first, get better price.
Twenty-second, agree and have people start loading on top of the truck
Twenty-third, take a photo and then show to the Masai who are security
Twenty-fourth drive to school
Twenty-fifth stop to work out how big lorry will fit over bad road with broken bridge
Twenty-sixth do a million point turn to get lorry into school.
Twenty-seventh unload cement bags with help of prefect boys
Twenty-eighth unload the 7 tonnes of chips and pay lorry driver.
The list goes on as I have to buy waterproof cement, meet with James and eat for the first time that day at about 6pm!
So that just how long things take here, I must admit being in the front of that huge lorry was fun, I was surprised that the police still took Toa Kitu Kidogo (the Swahili word for bribe translating as: give me a little something) as there was a Mzungu (white) in the truck, very funny indeed.
An extremely exhausting day so I was glad to get some chili panner and rice out afterwards before meeting with James and having many a conversation with Roz on the phone
Its half past midnight now which is very late for me (early starts) so off I'll run, big day tomorrow again. I have a to do list as long as my arm!
31 july 2009
A week in bed with amoebic dysentery and/or malaria was not fun at all. I guess its another one of those times when you have to sit back and say "oh well T.I.A.!"
It was really great to have Roz phoning 3 times a day to check I was OK and to have James, boys from the blue cross centre, Marcel and all my housemates looking out for me.
I mustn't have eaten for the first 3/4 days in bed as I lost a lot of weight and felt so weak for the following week. But don’t worry I've managed to eat my way back to health! With a little help from Roz and what feels like her extravagant eating habits. You cant go 4 months without a job and eat at mon ame (popular but expensive restaurant) every day. It felt like a mini hollday when Roz Liz and Peter arrived as we would splash out on food and things like ice cream which I just wouldn’t have splashed out on before. A really nice treat at times when home comforts can really be appreciated.
August
Enok took me on a walk around Obunga, which is Kisumu’s biggest "slum" area. I had heard many things so had no idea what to expect but was preparing myself for a shock. However, it just didn’t have the impact on me that I was expecting. Probably because of having a lot of exposure to similar living conditions. To me it seemed much like Nyalenda, just a lot more densely populated and a distinct lack of hygiene and infrastructure which Nyalenda does have a bit of a leg up on.
We stopped at the house where Enok used to stay and met a Mzeh (old man) who had taken Enok in and owned the small set of houses. He struggled with an illness which he said no one had identified. From what he said I'm 99% sure it arthritis, I may drop round some pain killers to help when it gets really bad but mainly for the placebo effect which I have learnt over the last couple of months can be just as great as the correct medicine.
The Hovic night shelter really was fantastic. It contained 3 or 4 dormitories currently holding about 25 street boys. I chatted and chilled with a few of them for about half an hour. It’s easy to be intimidated by these groups of boys when moving around Kisumu. However, all of these guys where so friendly and cool just to chill out with. I really got good vibes about the centre. I'm going to volunteer there when I return for sure, mate, a job with Hovic would just be perfect!
The place could do with a few extra beds and a lick of paint but what organisation couldn't do with that here!
I sat and chatted with one boy who stuck out in my head specifically. I only chatted for literally 5 minutes, on these kind of trips there are always little moments that you don’t realise at the time are affecting you so much, I think this was one of them.
This young guy (who I'll call "M") was very separate from the wrest of the group, he was quite small and seemed shy. Once I sat and spoke with M I could see however that he was not so shy at all and was happy to speak with me and share his story and challenges. At 14 years old he had been "refused" by his father as he is HIV+, so eventually ended up on the streets of Kisumu before being picked up by the project. He has to deal with a lot of social anxiety and be at the end of a lot of stigma and ignorance. Leading to much depression. He went on to explain the problems he has at school and at the shelter in dealing with his illness, dealing with the side effects from such strong drugs, struggling with loss of appetite and massive energy swings. He told me his favourite subject is biology and he wants to be a surgeon. Just speaking to him really tugged at something inside me, mostly I just felt very helpless, I wish I could support him through education and health needs… what can you do, you can't help them all. I'll do my best to stay in touch with hovic, perhaps fundraise and volunteer with them in the future.
After dinner with Liz, Peter and Roz my evening somewhat contrasted that afternoon. I went to a Reggae event in a big social hall. The room was filled with Rastas and young people with the smell of weed thick in the air. Ironically it felt like a familiar atmosphere not that unlike many of London clubs. Hot sweaty people, mashed on drugs, dancing like lunatics to extremely loud and distorted music. I still had the words of M ringing in my ear about the effects of the drugs he has to take and now I'm being faced with a room full of people taking drugs recreationally! What a crazy juxtaposition! It just didn't feel right being there, interesting to see but I didn’t want to support that event and that culture. The smell, the fights outside, the people shouting and the way I had to get escorted out just wasn’t much fun. Often people make a fuss about you being white, you get shouted at, people want to talk to you, you can even feel like a celebrity. Which is an awful feeling, I’ve seen many Mzungus get caught up in that which really irritates me. However at the club everyone was there for the music or the drugs and no-one really cared about me which was great, I enjoyed the DJ who I met bigging me up on the P.A. as “Alex the Rastafari Mzungu” not quite Chris Moyels on Radio one!
Life In Kenya…continued
A few more memories to add…
I thought policeman in Kisumu were bad, but in Nairobi it’s a whole other story. This greasy policeman who stopped our truck (just to see what money he could get out of the Mzungu) was "arresting" us for driving offences. I was on my way to pick up Roz's bags, had been sitting in the truck for a good 5 hours so wasn’t in the best of moods anyway. So after 45 minutes of waiting outside the truck and two thousand shillings we managed to carry on with the journey. But was so stressful, they were just trying to scare us and to be honest they succeeded…. There’s no way I'm even stepping foot in another Kenyan police station, its just not happening. I don’t think I've ever had such feelings of hate towards another human being as I do towards the array of policemen in Kenya. I try and stay calm and think that their corruption is there way of surviving, it’s just their way of putting bread on the table. But I just can’t take that opinion as they take it all too far. Its actually abusing other people, undermining Kenyan society and ultimately fucking the whole system. I hate corruption with a passion and the horrible thing is, its so easy to get wound up in it and find yourself giving in to cut corners etc but you just cant let yourself do it. Once you start who knows where it can end up, plus you can never make judgements or take the moral high ground if your being just as bad the as the greasy corrupt men that I've had the pleasure of spending some of my time with.
I should also explain the main transport methods around Kisumu:
Boda Boda
A bicycle with a seat on the back on. Boda drivers are very often drunk, so sitting on the back of one you get a nice mix of B.O. and Changa (locally and illegally brewed 90% alcohol)
Equivalent to 15p
Tuk Tuk
An auto rickshaw that can carry up to 4 people comfortably, although I think we have managed 7 or 8 before.
Equivalent to 90p
Matatu
These are pretty much pimped out school buses and are the main form of transport around Kisumu. Each matatu has a driver and a tout that hangs out of the side of the vehicle calling to the driver when to stop and trying to coax passers by into the vehicle. A matatu legally can only carry 14 people but typically have over 25 so everytime they pass a policeman they drop 100 shillings on the floor as Toa Kitu Kidogo (give me a little something).
Now when I say they are pimped out I really mean it. Most have 32" plasmas, phatt sound systems, flashing lights inside and outside. I even went on one that had Lazers inside.
Equivalent to 8p
Bicycle
This is my favourite way to get around Kisumu, it’s a lot more enjoyable now that my bike has breaks! Thanks to the boy I helped to get out of jail, I gave him a days work to get my bike sorted. Well, the gears still don’t work but at least it stops. The bike is great for getting out of situations quickly, so Nyalenda at night is great as it means you can dodge all the drunk people who would usually harass you on your way back in the evening.
Walking
This is of course free and until I got my bicycle it was the best way to get around. Mind you, you do have to put up with being shouted at, hissed at and be good at dodging swerving matatus, bodas and cars. At the same time you need to watch your stepping as solid ground can suddenly turn into open sewer with quite a big drop.
