Kenya Reflections (4)

I realise that I've done a lot of writing about Kenya over the last few posts but it's been on my mind for a long time. I'd never really taken the time to think about what I learnt from the experience and how I'm moving on from there now. There are many more posts I could write about what I learnt from the country, it's people and culture; as well as an equal number of things I dislike about Kenya, the things that have annoyed me beyond belief. The corruption, the lack of infrastructure, the gap between rich and poor, the traditional attitude to women/children/disabled people etc. at the end of the day those things get pushed to the wayside by photos like this one...

My recorder class each with their personal choice of colour certificates...

But I want to conclude this time of reflection with this post.
I have been incredibly lucky over the years to have met some inspirational, transformational, basically one in seven billion people (I know it's cheesy but it's the truth).
During my 18 months in Kenya my experience would not have been the same without the amazing people I met, lived with and got to know as family.
So I just want to take this chance to reflect on what these people taught me during that time...

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...

Kenya Reflections (2)

The second post in my reflections on what I learnt as a volunteer in Kenya for 18 months between January -December 2010 and April - October 2011.

My U14 football teams getting ready for training...

Kenya Reflections (1)

Yesterday I had the privelege of being able to spend the day with an amazing friend, one of my 2010 cohort of volunteers to Kenya and someone who I'd not seen for over 18months. Originally from Germany she's been over in the UK on an Erasmus study exchange for 6 months. Despite being only a few hundred miles apart since she arrived in January, life has got in the way of us catching up in person. (I am most to blame as I've been even more like a hermit than usual lately).

But anyway, we were able to talk about what's been going on since we left the country that had been home for 12 months (we even flew home on the same day/different planes on 29th Dec 2010). Friends and family quickly tire of kenya stories and photos of ragged but smiling children they can't tell the difference between,

only people who were there/been through similar experiences can really understand our need to talk about it, a lot. It's getting on for 8 months since I returned to the UK for the 2nd time and I certainly havent taken the time to process the year and a half of my life spent there. 

Football matters...

Sometimes it’s the great, dramatic events that stand out in our memories as the days we’ll remember for the rest of our lives. On the other hand maybe it’s an encounter that lasts only a few seconds that starts changing your life’s perspective for the better. Spending a year in Kenya provided me with so many experiences; big and small. From the ‘Big Five’ to Christmas day with my adopted family in the village; every day was a day to remember. But since returning home to the UK I’ve come to realize that there is one day I hope I’ll never forget.

The process that led up to this day is almost as memorable as the day itself. One Sunday afternoon in May a group of about 25 young boys, ranging from about 7 to 17 years old gathered around the compound of our little wooden house in the tea reserve near to Kericho in rural Kenya. They had decided to go and play football in the field of a nearby primary school and had organized their own match against the boys in that area. Off they went, leaving me at home. An hour or so later they came trudging back looking down hearted. The watchman at the school had sent them away because they were unsupervised. My youngest host-brother spent the rest of the evening being a grumpy 9 year old and I started wondering if there was something I could do. The next afternoon found me in the headmaster’s office asking for permission to supervise the boys one day after school. As someone who had not played ‘organised’ football for almost a decade I didn’t think it through so much. How difficult could it be right?! Permission was sought from the school management and suddenly the Mzungu (European) girl had a football team.

On the Wednesday afternoon I arrived in the field and wondered what to do next. I asked the headmaster is there was a teacher who could referee for me or a whistle we could use. Answers to both questions were negative. At least I hoped my little brother would bring the ball along with his team! So thanks to a talent I had picked up for whistling very loud, I gathered 11 players from each school who all promised me that they were Under 14. They all shook hands and a coin was tossed to decide which team would kick off first. Following that first game I was persuaded to ‘train’ the boys at least twice in a week. Sometimes they arrived late, sometimes it was pouring with rain, sometimes the ball was flat. But we played and the improvement was dramatic. After three months practicing they were no longer the ‘kick it up in the air and hope it lands near someone on my team’ players of May. They could control and pass to each other, they learned how to do a throw in correctly and were starting to realise that the off side rule does actually matter.

In October I discovered that there was going to be a tournament dedicated to Jamhuri Day (Independence or Hero’s Day) in Kenya. In the weeks leading up to this day my two teams would play against others from the area to compete for the final places to play for the District Commissioner and other officials on 13th December 2010. The lead up to this final did not go smoothly.

On the day of the play offs we were the only teams to arrive. Even after the drama of getting the boys to raise their own funds to take the matatu to another village for the match, being promised that lunch was provided and waiting over 6 hours for the other teams to arrive. We played two matches and my teams rose to the top of the table. Despite our best efforts not all the matches were played. I was furious at the organisers for their lax attitude to these boys who had tried so hard and the discovery that it probably didn’t matter that we were at the top of the table. They were just going to submit their friends for the final anyway. I was tired, my 40 boys were hungry and cold and it looked like all my effort was coming to nothing. So I decided I had to do something. I called all the old men ‘organisers’ together and announced that the play offs had to be completed the next Sunday. I would get the field, they would get the referees and we would start at 11am. Any team more than 10 minutes late would be disqualified…

Stunned silence…

…Then suddenly they all started talking at once.
“Who was this white girl from Kiptere?”
“What good ever came out of there anyway?”
“Why does she care about who plays in the final?”

All spoken in their mother tongue of Kipsigis which they believed I could not understand… mistake number one. Mistake number two was their belief that these young boys didn’t matter. I felt like a mother hearing gossip about her child, except there were 40 of them! Over the past 10 months my Kipsigis was good enough to understand them but my reply had to come in English.

“These boys matter. They had been promised so much of today and you could not even arrive in time. If you want to play in a final you have to conduct the play offs fairly. This is not just an ‘old boys club’. This year it will be different. I will speak with the District Commissioner on Monday and if you don’t attend next week’s matches don’t come and expect to play on Jamhuri day.”

Eventually they agreed and invited me to go and have tea with them to seal the deal. Mistake number three… my boys had still not been fed; no way was I going to eat before they were taken care of. So I politely refused and explained my stand (Especially since to refuse tea in Kenya is very very rare!). They were so shocked that someone would consider the boys before themselves that they even gave me the money to buy tea and something to eat for the boys. So we left for home, stopping at a small hotel to have tea before walking the rest of the way through the fields together. They were tired but still excited for the next weekend and ready to take on the teams again, certain that we would make it to the final.
The next Sunday I arrived in the field early but found that my boys were already there practising. By 11am most of the teams had arrived; except the one that was due to play first against my team, Kiptere. I was also lacking the promised referees but was informed that they were ‘on the way’; in the meantime I would referee myself. When the team was more than 20 minutes late I declared a walkover. This gave my team three points and a 3-0 win over the other team. Four matches later, still no official referee, I was starting to get a bit tired. Kiptere were still top of the table and Kesainet ranked third. With time running out and my energy almost all gone after refereeing 7 matches (the others never arrived) we discussed with the teams and decided that the last match would be a little shorter to ensure we finished before dark. It would be the decider, with one team winning they could rise to second place and knock Kesainet out of their newly won place and with the other, just a draw would be enough for my teams to go through to the final. After nail-biting penalties; the result was in our favor… we were in the final!


Exhausted and elated we went home to tell our parents. These young boys from the ‘tea’ had finally become a team!

The day of the finals drew closer and I made many trips to the District Commissioners office to ensure that I would be given money for lunch and transport to bring the two teams for the match. I organized a matatu that would bring the boys the 8km from our village to the pitch. I made sure that we had a good football and arranged the time/place to meet on the day itself.

The morning of the finals I left early to go and pick up the transport (plus driver and conductor). It had been raining over the past few days so I walked in Wellington Boots and carried my trainers for later. Arriving at our arranged meeting place I could only see 5 boys waiting. I asked where the others were, ‘they’re coming, they’re coming’. We waited.
After 20 mins I had assembled enough boys to make one team. About 13 were still missing. The driver was becoming impatient and I was anxious that we were about to lose our transport too. So I made the decision… we left them behind…

Arriving in the field we helped to set up for the events of the day; raising the national flag, setting up the public address system and putting up the goal nets. An hour after we arrived one of the boys approached me and told me that the others were now all waiting where we had organized to meet. Waiting for me and the car. Now did I have a choice? Leave my players there and go to collect the others (like the shepherd leaving the 99 sheep to look for the one that is lost) or did I stay with those who were on time and make the match a 5-a-side. After all our hard work and preparation I could not leave them stranded. I searched for a lift back home and on the way discovered that the boys had already started walking, aimlessly along the 8km to the pitch. Jumping out of the car they were excited to see me and assumed, wrongly, that I was going to bundle them into a bus to head back to the celebrations. No, they missed the bus, we would have to walk and that was that. So putting on the radio on my mobile phone I and my remaining 13 boys (plus supporters) started marching to the field.
Waved at wonderingly by villagers as we passed, the European girl like the Pied Piper with her boys following behind…and with Wellies on like a farmer too! We marched; they complained I was going too fast. We marched; they said they were hungry. We marched and we marched. After what seemed like forever the pitch came into sight.

We had made it. The match had not begun, only the official speeches were underway. I tried to sneak into the back of the crowd but there is another disadvantage to being a drastically different skin colour to those around you, I stand out a bit. After a few minutes I was invited to make my speech. I had still not changed my Wellies to trainers, I was still a bit out of breath from our march and I had no idea what I would say. Taking a deep breath to compose myself, somehow I knew what I would say.

“Today is Hero’s day in Kenya. But I want to tell you about my real heroes. You see those small boys over there… they’re the ones we should be cheering. They’ve fought hard to get to play for your entertainment today. Building teams from nothing just a few months ago. Even today half of them walked all the way from Kiptere just to get here. (Ok they missed my bus!). These young people are the future of Kenya. They are my heroes and they are the ones that are going to make this country great.”

Nothing like a bit of motivational speaking to wake you up in the morning! Somehow they were impressed anyway, especially since I made an effort to come dressed like a local farmer too!

Early afternoon and the match was underway. Now I’m ashamed to say that I don’t remember which team won or lost, who scored the goals or who would have been ‘man of the match’. But what I do remember is that after eating a huge lunch of ugali, beans AND meat the boys then watched the senior finals, aspiring to one day become like these men.

The night was dark and rainy when we piled about 40 small boys into a mini bus designed for much less.
I took home one winning team and one losing team, did it matter? Not one bit.

They had gone to a real football pitch, played under a real referee (not just me!), eaten lunch in a real hotel (with meat!) and now were singing together with their friends on the way home.

These are my heroes.

10 year old boys who probably speak only about 100 words of English and a referee who speaks even less Kipsigis…

Who believed that I could train them, who believed that they could win and who showed everyone around that, yes, something good can come out of Kiptere!

Ok, so I was a bit rubbish at posting.....Again

Can you believe that I've now been back for just over a month?!
Time goes so fast and I still feel like I just arrived.

First my new address:
Laura Griffin
Intercultural Youth Exchange - Kenya
Po Box 66118 - 00800
Westlands
Nairobi
Kenya

The competition is on for the most exciting post that you can get into a small padded envelope. Prizes will be awarded :-p
Current leaders (since I've only received one letter so far!) are Kathy and Nathan who made me laugh out loud with their Little Miss Stubborn and Helpful books! (you decide which one suits me more?)
I've written to quite a lot of people so post could be on its way to you. If you haven't given me your address and would like a postcard, let me know!

Suppose I should tell you what I've been doing over the last month that's made me too busy to blog about it!
I'm based in the ICYE Kenya office and now I have a clearer idea of the task ahead of me...
I am conducting a piece of action research into the 'impact of volunteering in Kenya'. To do this I'm visiting projects, volunteers and host families to carry out questionnaires and interviews. I will also be writing a section within the research that shows a 'country contextual profile' of volunteering and it's history here.... I'm also making a video presentation on volunteering and the projects in Kenya....helping to update the website database with photos and profiles....helping with ICYE camps and orientations....meeting up with other volunteers.....learning to live with a new host family.....trying to understand Nairobi....practicing Kiswahili (hmm, a bit)....trying to decide where I'll travel during my time off (most important :p) ....and....learning more about what it is I want to do/who I am (yeah, it's a personal learning experience right?!)

So you see why I've not written?

So far I've visited some projects in Nairobi and Kitui. We were due to head to Isiolo this week. However, I received some bad news that my Host Uncle in Kiptere passed away. This is really sad because he was a young man, talented carpenter, husband and father. I've been given permission to visit 'home' for the funeral. I'll be traveling there sometime today. I will admit that I'm a bit nervous about returning 'home'. I've been gone almost 5 months now so things could be different. But I'm looking forward to seeing everyone, even in this sad circumstance.
I'll return to Nairobi on Saturday or Sunday.

It feels like I never really left Kenya in the first place. It has been fairly easy to adapt to the surroundings of Nairobi and it really is not as bad as I was fearing. Even my 2hr commute to work every day is alright...
I really feel for the other EVS - Volunteering Matters participants who are adapting to new cultures, languages and ICYE offices all around the world. We're working together, separately on this project, hoping to create something that can make a difference to volunteering.

The cyber I'm in right now is within Mzungu Land...so it's a bit expensive...I think I'll have to leave it there for today. I will try to write more often...
Love to hear from you too!

Habari ya nyumbani?

Another post to try and keep up the frequency of writing this year.
I'm not 2 days into my 'official orientation' as an EVS/ICYE volunteer. I've been doing my training with another volunteer who will be staying for a year, Gabi from Costa Rica. It's nice spending the orientation with another person and getting to know old faces a bit better too. Most of the things were covered in my first orientation back in January 2010 but some of the information will never cease to amaze me. Today we covered the list of common diseases and illnesses in Kenya as well as the issue of relationships. Now just as last time, after these sessions you can't help feeling a bit overwhelmed at the amount of information being given you to keep you safe and healthy (we'll cover security issues tomorrow!). Now I know it's all for our own good but it does make you go a bit "AAAAAHHHH!" about the whole experience! I can only imagine how Gabi felt hearing it for the first time.

We've also been having Kiswahili classes. And I've been reassured that I do actually know a fair amount already. (Yeah I know I've had a year head start but really, come on, you know we Brits don't really learn languages that well...:-p ) But it seems that my only difficulty now is having the confidence to practice, to try out the sentences and words not being afraid that I'll pronounce them wrong or mix them up. That's the really challenging part! It's much easier to say, I don't remember any of it and get by with English because Kenya is also so English orientated anyway. Though I really should try harder this time to integrate into this part of my 'cultural exchange' because I think it could be really beneficial and also pretty cool if I can put conversational Kiswahili on my CV!

I'm still waiting for confirmation on where I'll be living and what kind of family it will be. I'm actually really nervous about meeting a new family and whether I'll get on with them etc. I guess that's only natural too.
I heard some ideas on what exactly it is that I'll be doing over the 6 months from Judy today and it does all sound pretty interesting. I suppose that it's just trying to match up expectations from ICYE, EVS and myself to actual practical action in a place where things don't usually work out the way you expect them to. But I'll be making use of my 'special' mind maps and lists to try and organise my head into what I'm supposed to be doing and also trying not to expect too much. I have only just arrived (even if I had hardly even left) and it's a new task and responsibilities are different now that I'm technically 'ICYE staff'. However, I am hopeful and I hope that the ICYE Kenya team are happy to have me back. At least they must have had the chance to say "No way are we having that Laura Griffin back again!" and they didn't so let's build on that and see what happens!

So I'm doing fine, Nairobi is not as terrible as I believe it to be. Though I've been able to walk to work from the guesthouse and haven't really seen too much of the city. I'm getting on with things and it's all going OK.
For those who gave me some specific advice before I came out here, I am working on it and once I get my feet on the ground I'll try to do as I was told. I've not forgotten!

Congratulations to the Kenyans in the London Marathon but also massive congratulations to Gemma Foster who also ran and all the other people/charities I'm connected to who were involved! (If I couldn't learn to run after a year of living with 'the running tribe' I'm afraid there's no hope for me there!)

I'll post my address next time I write and will be sending out letters to everyone who gave me their address very soon! (It's not too late to jump on the 'Post from Kenya II' train if you'd like to, just send me your address and I'll write to you soon!)