Kenya Reflections (3)

I have a few more things that the people/culture of Kenya taught me that I would like to reflect on in this third post...

Home in Kiptere...

The people and culture of Kenya taught me... (continued) 
Self Community sufficiency, resilience and necessity...
The region that I spent most of my time is mostly made up of subsistence farming and tea crops. People rely on their land to grow enough maize to feed their family (and some to sell) and then picking tea leaves to sell on to local factories as an income for the other basics they need for life (soap/cooking fat/salt/matches etc.)  
Sometimes the money runs out, sometimes the maize, salt, soap runs out... What do you do?
First you assess, is it really necessary right now?
Am I about to cook dinner and there's no flour for ugali? (staple food of maize flour mush- actually pretty awesome!)
Or do the kids need to wash up ready for school and the cow has just eaten the last of the soap? (actually happened - several times with that cow!)

When you can't just nip out the the supermarket sometimes you realise that it is possible to go without.
If not, what next?
Normally in our house, my younger brother and sister (sometimes accompanied by me) would head out with a torch and the family dogs in tow to visit a neighbour/relative to see if they had what we needed. We were never turned away empty handed, nor were the other youngsters who had been sent to our kitchen for the same purpose. It was community in the purest sense.
But on other occasions when perhaps the paraffin had run out in the lamp or there was no ugali left over for breakfast. Did they panic, throw a tantrum or even really complain? Nope. The understanding is that you just get on with it.

Breakfast - Last night's ugali and tea 

Today might find us cooking by the light of a mobile phone screen but so what, tomorrow could be worse.
I've learnt a deeper appreciation for what I have and also learnt that if I don't have it anymore, life will still go on. Much of what we have here in the UK is really actually unnecessary.
I dream of that kind of self reliance and community sourcing here and wonder if it would ever be possible to get back to a simplicity of living with only what is really necessary.

To have a thirst for knowledge... 
When I began my recorder class in St Clare's Primary School I didn't expect much. Perhaps to teach a few nursery rhymes using 3-4 notes, nothing too complicated.

I couldn't have been more wrong. Every note I taught was mastered in a few minutes, crotchets and quavers learnt fluently within a few weeks. Within a month I was teaching the Kenyan National Anthem and they'd learnt it off by heart. Within three months they were playing Cliff Richard's version of the Lord's Prayer, preparing Christmas Carols and other famous tunes.

These 25 children aged between 7 and 11 years old had a thirst for knowledge. If I was a few moments late for class, they were already there practising. They got hold of other sheet music (from goodness knows where!) and tried to learn the tunes on their own between classes.
And it wasn't just my music class. Teaching 'out of school' teenagers and adults how to use a computer for the first time. Teaching basic European geography to strangers on a bus or the importance of healthy relationships/how to use a condom/HIV prevention to a crowd gathered under a shady tree. Everyone wanted to learn, at all times!

Graduates of a Peer Education/Counselling Programme in Secondary School

Their thirst for knowledge reignited my own. I've realised how much I don't know (not only by being unable to answer their questions about how far it is between the UK and Russia!) and how much more I need to know to be more effective in my work with young people. This is part of the reason I'm headed back to university for my Masters and a possible possibility of continuing on to PHD. I want to be an expert in my field but not only that I want to know more about science, geography, history, literature, politics. I want to know more about people, communities and their potential for greatness. 

However, on the flip side to this I've also learnt that it is okay to not know the answer.
"I don't know" has in the past been a phrase I was banned from saying (especially in the context of "how are you?"). Now I'm starting to realise that it's okay to be unsure or not know something, as long as the commitment remains to try and find out.
Then if there is no answer,
We will just have to 'treasure the questions...sometimes it's a question of doubt' 
and I'm okay with that...

Finally in my last post about "What I learnt in Kenya" I want to tell you about some inspirational people that I'm privileged have met during my time as a volunteer...