Imagine

Imagine never having thought about what you want to 'be' when you grow up. Here, not only does this question elicit blank stares and confused eyes but the question could just as easily be "What do you want to be 'if' you grow up?"

Even with the government's intervention with respect to making ARV drugs available, HIV, AIDS, and related illnesses continue to devastate individuals and families alike. In the far reaches of these rural communities, the stigma alone associated with the disease still results in denial and a reluctance to testing. Not surprising when a positive result could see you abandoned by your family or kicked off the ancestral land.

The impact of AIDS on children, both directly and indirectly, is obvious at the Mercy school, which is attended by orphans who have lost at least one parent. The impact and effects on community and family however, became increasingly clear to me this week as I visited the small subsistence farms of the members of a local widows group.

As the widows typically do not hold any sort of government identification like a birth certificate (heck, most of them can only give you a ballpark estimate of their age), they cannot apply for or receive social assistance or individual loans. Banding together and registering with the government as an official widows self-help group provides an I.D. of sorts for the executive members and qualifies the group to receive aid such as the World Food Programme, and the services of the Kenya Women's Finance Trust.

Amenah, another volunteer completing an internship here, has been working with this particular group of women to help them organize. We were invited to their farms as we wanted to learn more about their efforts and their challenges in order to gain some insight which could potentially help guide future assistance programs.

We were greeted at farm after farm by incredibly strong women.

Some were eager to show us their successful crops, while others showed us baron land whose crops had all but been destroyed by weeds and pests. Some had tiny plots of land, while others had an acre or two. Some invited us into their homes (which is where they store their harvests as thievery from their graineries has become a problem) to show us the fruits of their labour, while others suffered a weak harvest with little to show. Some had cash crops in addition to food crops which allowed them to sell their goods at the market, while others would have to ration what they had produced just to feed their families. Some were preparing for the August rains which signal the next planting season, while others were struggling to bring in this season's harvest in time. Some shared with us the prohibitive costs of hiring an ox and plow, explaining why the work instead had to be done by hand, while others pointed out their most prized possessions including fruit trees, goats, and ducks (that would bring home a tidy sum at Christmas!).

All had a story.

Some shared their stories with us, while others did not. Either way, you could almost read their stories through their eyes, see their stories on the lines in their faces, and feel their stories on their calloused hands.

Though I stood beside these women, sat in their homes, greeted their children, and their grandchildren and listened, I can't pretend to understand. For this is a life, though try as I might, I cannot fathom.

As much as we would like the kids at school to jump up and down and yell Firefighter! Policeman! Doctor! Teacher!...when asked what they want to be when they grow up, it is easy to see how the obstacles inherent to their lives and the future they can foresee often elicits blank stares and confused eyes when posed this very question.

Hands up!

Thursday we declared as a get-your-hands-dirty kind of day and after a trip to a bookshop and a wedding store in the neighbouring town of Busia, we had had all the supplies we needed to create handprint masterpieces.

The kids rotated in ten at a time and chose two colours of paint. We painted their hands one at a time and encouraged them to put their hands to paper in whatever orientation they wanted.

It was fun to watch the kids’ reaction to the whole process. Some were stoich, not really sure what to make of this, others were intrigued by the feeling of the paint between their fingers, others giggled as the tickly bristles ran over their palms, some were excited to get their turn while others seemed stressed out having been burdened with the responsibility of complete creative liberty.

Some thought for a great deal of time before placing their hands just so and others squished all their fingers together and slapped their hands down quickly in a big beautiful mess. It was the ones who colored outside the lines so to speak, the ones who turned their pages upside down and backwards, the ones who wrote their names vertically, between their fingers, or up the side of the page, that kept me smiling all day. I have included many sample creations below because I think that they will make you smile too :).

In addition to putting handprints to paper, everyone added their handprint to a school banner. From the students, to the teachers, to the kitchen staff, everyone got in on the action!

Joanne, from the sewing/tailoring class, provided the finishing touch by hemming the sides and adding button holes to the corners to allow it to be hung proudly in the school’s front entry.

All filled up

What’s cool about the Mercy Children’s Centre is that not only do they fill the minds of the kids here, but their bellies as well. When it comes to food, the school is virtually self-sustaining and what’s even more impressive is that everyone gets involved.

The school day starts early here and the kids line up for tea each morning at 7:30. Milk for the tea is provided by the cows whom George tends to religiously. In addition to the three cows (and one calf), the school also has two goats, two sheep, several chickens and a rooster.

Lunchtime is at about 1:00 and the menu alternates between ugali with sukumawiki and ‘Mixture’. Ugali is the local staple food and is made from grinding maize into maize flour and cooking it together with water to make a sort of dough. The maize is grown on site and the kids help with the planting and harvesting of it.

The final harvest was recently completed in preparation for the August planting season. These boys were showing off and taking down the stalks with ninja-like prowess!

The maize is laid out to dry under the hot sun, is removed from the cobb, dried some more, and is stored so that it is always on hand to be used as needed. Sukumawiki, a green and leafy vegetable that looks like lettuce, or a close relative, is also grown on site. It is boiled and eaten together with ugali.

Mixture is just that, a mixture of maize and beans combined to make what can only be described as deliciousness. The maize crop alternates with the bean crop and planting and harvesting again involves the students.

Meals are prepared in the school’s kitchen by an amazing staff. They let Troy and I peer over their shoulders and taught us how to make ugali, even though we ran out of the kitchen everytime the smoke rejected the chimney and filled the room. I guess your eyes must develop a tolerance after a while. .. Most of the cooking is done in giant pots held on three rocks above a fire fuelled by the dry sticks that the kids bring in on their designated firewood-day.

Here, Seline is preparing the sukumawiki and Joseph, having returned from town with a gunny sack of freshly ground maize secured to his bicycle, is cheffing up ugali.

Bon Appetit!

It takes a village...

We are currently in western Kenya in a tiny place called Bumala.

We are volunteering at the Mercy Children’s Centre, a school funded by a local Edmonton organization called One Child’s Village. This school provides an education for 220 orphans who otherwise would not be afforded this ‘luxury’. Attending public school requires the paying of school fees, the purchase of a school uniform, school supplies, and yes, even a desk, making it out of reach for many children who have lost their parents, many of whom now rely on the guardianship of their grandmothers.

The teaching staff is young and energetic, the students are eager and enthusiastic and I have been racking my brain to satisfy their desire to learn new games. We have been welcomed here with open arms, and ofcourse singing! As a relatively young project, foreign visitors to the school have been few to this point, but those who have been here have left their mark as the kids can’t get enough of ‘What time is it Mr. Lion?’ and doing ‘The Jiggalo’! You’ll be happy to know that yes, only two days in, and the chicken dance is now also part of the repertoire.

While we are here we plan to help in the classrooms, hopefully providing some extra one-on-one to students who could use the extra attention, teach first aid, and help with the construction of volunteer accommodation to facilitate a future volunteer program.

Pespective

As I re-read my last post, having email access today for the first time since then, I am happy to report that I have since gained some perspective. It was not so much the loss of the material possessions that had me feeling so bitter (I am accutely aware, as I take in my surroundings on a daily basis, of the truly important things), but the loss of that which cannot be replaced, like pictures and journals, that makes me sad. It is the knowledge that my personal stuff is ‘out there’ that feels violating and it is the thought that any one of you could one day receive a picture of me to match that of Troy’s birthday post in some spam in your inbox, that makes me blush.

I am however reminded that while these personal things were to serve as material reminders, experiences cannot be taken away and though it would have been nice to fill a scrapbook, my memory bank continues to burst :).

Lighter Load

It has been a while since we last updated. Mostly because my Mom told me that if I didn't have anything nice to say, I shouldn't say anything at all... So, instead of focusing on the fact that over the last two weeks we have been getting a first hand education on the finer points of theft and corruption, I will focus on the fact that my bag will now weigh a lot less as it will no longer be burdened with heavy things like cameras, computers, ipods, SD cards, USB sticks, passports, and cash (man, what a relief. cash is really heavy). It would have been a pain to come home after a year of travelling and have to sift through all those beautiful pictures of unforgettable experiences and memories, I should be relieved to have had this weight lifted. More good news is that I now only have one piece of luggage to worry about. It was kind of a pain carrying around two bags anyways and really, can you blame the guy, he needed something to haul away all our stuff in.

Don't worry Mom(s), we are safe :).

Happy Canada Day(s)!

On July 1st and 2nd we celebrated Canada Day with the students at Ihunga, Kahunga, Kitwe, and Nyamyerande primary schools. Some of these schools having been partnered with sister schools in Edmonton as part of Ainembabazi‘s Synergy Project which promotes a cultural exchange between the young people in the two countries, the education committee interns orchestrated Canada day celebrations in an effort to teach the students here a little bit more about Canada and its culture.

I can't attest to how much actual ‘culture’ was learned but it was confirmed that we all speak the same language of laughter. And laugh we did! The classes rotated between each of our stations and from flag making to hockey playing, from ‘snowball’ fights to Canada facts sharing, from snowflake creating to dancing and games, we covered all the bases of a typical elementary school experience back home!

Troy took on the hockey station while I was charged with shaking my booty at the dancing station. I do however deny all responsibility if the Ugandans happened to come away thinking that any one of the Electric Slide, the Twist, the Hokey Pokey, the Hawaiian Cowboy, or the Can-Can are in any way ‘official’ Canadian dances…

Troy taught them the finer points of hockey, or at least of being a hockey fan, an Oiler fan specifically. By the end of the day, he had all the kids chanting ‘Let’s go Oilers!’ and they had all but mastered ‘the wave‘.

While it was our intent to share a bit of Canada, we also came away with more than a little Ugandan culture. All the kids were eager to share a song or a dance to kick things off at my station, with The Calypso being a particular favorite. At Nyamyerande, the students prepared a play for us and also shared some traditional dance, while at Kahunga they pulled us into their spontaneous dance circle and tried to teach us some new moves!

We were very grateful to have been welcomed in with open arms and while we hope we left them with a glimpse of Canada, they left us with an invitation to return for Ugandan's independence day in October :). They also wouldn't let us ride away empty handed and between the team we were gifted close to 100 avocadoes, 100 passion fruit, a dozen papaya and pineapples and a couple dozen eggs….! It seems that gratitude was indeed felt both ways.