Rats

I've been living in a minor state of fear for the past day and a half. It feels like I'm in a horror movie, where I know my house is haunted and at some point I will wake up to the horrible monster staring at me from the side of my bed. But instead of a haunted house and a monster, it's a rat. I woke up yesterday to find that half a loaf of my newly bought bread was eaten, by what I assumed was a mouse. I had a mouse in my house in December before I vanquished it. Later in the afternoon I hear a noise in my kitchen. I go to my kitchen door and there, sitting in my sink is a rat. Kenya's version of Godzilla, a huge mutant rat. A rat the size of a St. Bernard and resembling Rattigan from "The Great Mouse Detective." (I might exaggerate, Imagination might have distorted what this rat actually looks like. It was probably more the size of a Boston Terrier). It was huge and looked like it could take on, not only a cat, but a car. I, appropriately, yelled "Ahhh, huge rat!" It jumped on the window sill and went around the wall (a wall divides the window, half of it is in my kitchen the other half of the window is in my bedroom) and into my bedroom. Things just got worse. I run into my bedroom, push aside the curtain and for a second I think it's gone. Then I see it's beady little eyes. It's holding on to the bottom of the window like some rock climber. I yell again and it disappears. I quickly close the window. I run outside and tell Mama Mary (Tanzania mama) about my harrowing adventure. We cautiously poke our heads around the side of the building to see if it is still around. It's standing on the wall, head facing the ground. Completely vertical. Great, Super Rat; able to climb tall buildings in a single bound. I grab a jambe (a hoe of sorts) and she grabs a stick. I would like to say I gave a moving speech like in Braveheart, but I don't have quite the swahili vocabulary to pull that off. Instead, we raised our weapons and attacked. The rat got away. So fast forward to this morning. I hear something in my kitchen. I see no rat and my windows have been closed all night. Now rats are pretty amazing, they can fit in small spaces, eat through concrete. So I know it could still get in. Plus there is a chimney in my house where a jiko should go (not currently used as the place is too small and carbon monoxide would kill me). I think nothing of it. I have a meeting this morning and afterwards I go back into my house and I hear it again. So I head outside and grab some sticks. My group is still outside doing their table banking so I get a lot of weird looks. I normally get a lot of weird looks, but this time I can understand why. I'm carrying two big sticks. I tell them "Panya kubwa" (big rat) and show them with my hands. Mama D tells me to take Jeff to kill the rat. I move some plastic bottles and sacks that I store underneath the chimney and there it is. Now it runs into my living room, we chase it. I see my bedroom door is open a bit so I think "I need to close that." The rat is one step ahead of me and dashes under my bed. This is not what I want, at all. So we run into my bedroom. It's under my bed, I'm on top of my bed, Jeff is on his hands and knees wildly stabbing under my bed with a stick. Luckily we scared it enough where it climbs up my curtains and on to the windowsill and runs into the kitchen. It tries to jump back up the chimney, but Jeff kills it. I run outside, arms raised in victory. The mama's cheered. Baby Mary kept repeating "Panya Kubwa agopa" (scared of big rat). Me too, Mary. Me too.

I believed I could fly

Getting away from site is easy. It's coming back from site that is the hardest. Especially with the last weekend. I went over to Jinja,Uganda with about 19 other volunteers. I knew it was going to be great, I just did not realize how awesome it would be. It's always good to get away and get together with some Peace Corps peeps.

I met up with some PCVs in Kisumu to make the trip over. I was traveling with a certain girl, E, who is my personal bad luck travel charm. Anytime I travel with her, things never work out. But it always makes for an interesting trip. The 5 hour trip to Jinja ended up taking about 8 hours. We finally get to Adrift and can finally chill out. Though due to an incident on the road I was a bit banged up and worse for wear. Nothing that Nile Special couldn't take care of. This beer is made with water from the Nile. Little did I know I would be drinking plenty of the Nile the next day. The beer tasted way better.



So on Saturday we rafted the Nile. Not floated, not canoed. We rafted the freakin' Nile. We met our guide Camo, whose name is not Camel despite the fact that my boat called him this for the first 15 minutes. I'm sure he loved us, despite the fact that he spent a good deal yelling at us to keep paddling (we would stop paddling anytime someone would talk, which was pretty much constant. Needless to say all of the other rafts went down the rapids five minutes before we even got to them.) Whether it was a passive-aggressive decision to kill us or he listened to our pleas to make this an epic trip, Camo agreed to take us on a Level 5 rapid. It was epic. Screw that it was EPIC!!!! We hit the first part of the rapid, I slam to the other side of the raft, taking out the girl who had previously been sitting there. The following are the three thoughts I had, in three seconds.

First thought: How am I still in the boat? (I might have had some curse words, but I'm keeping it PG)
Second thought: (I hear Camo state "Oh s**t she's in a bad place.") Hey there is Sarah!
Third thought: Oh crap (not real word), I'm about to die.

Well did not die, but I did fly. (Ha, rhymed) I am now under the rapids doing my best aquatic acrobatic routine. I had no idea which way was up. Finally I stop doing somersaults and let myself float up to the surface. I see no one, I see no boat. A second later I feel the boat when it hits my head. I duck back under water and let the boat pass me overhead. Camo comes, flips the boat and pulls me in. It took about 5 minutes for the kayakers to wrangle up the rest of my boat companions (we were scattered like dust in the wind).



It was awesome, while it was definitely scary it was the most fun I have ever had on the water (and in the water). The Nile is not the lazy river that people might think it is.

So Saturday did not kill me. So I decided to take it to the next level on Sunday. I bungee jumped, 45 meters above the Nile. I wasn't nervous before, but climbing the stairs and watching 5 others jump before me caused me to be as nervous as a loose woman in church. I get my ankles tied together am an told to bunny hop to a blue rope. After the blue rope they wanted me to scooch my feet to the edge of the platform, while not looking down. As an experiment go to a top step, close your eyes and scoot your feet to where your toes are sticking out. Without peeking, scary isn't it? Nothing about this is natural. The human body is not meant for this. I don't look down, at the suggestion of the british guy trying to push me off the platform. He asks me if I am ready. I say "No, give me a couple of seconds." Apparently he took this to mean that three seconds would suffice for me to collect my nerves. He counts down, and like Pavlov's dogs I have a natural reflex to someone counting down. Which is apparently to jump. This worries me that anytime someone counts down from three I will just jump. I don't really remember the initial jump, the only thought I had was "Wait, what? I just jumped? What was I thinking?" Coming back up I had time to realize what I had just done.

Later that day I went on an unofficial booze cruise down to the mouth of the Nile, where it meets Lake Victoria. I say unofficial booze cruise because this is what we called it, not what Gavin (who managed Adrift) called it. Once I get to Kisumu I will try to upload the video of my jumpint

It was awesome! A great weekend, with great people. Sadly it had to end, though not for my bank account. So contributions to my bank account is always welcomed.



Getting back to work has been hard. I am setting up a World Malaria Day in my community. While it definitely has been time consuming, it has been worth it so far. For those of you not aware, Malaria is a huge killer in Africa. 90% of all Malaria deaths occur in Africa. I will be doing a whole blog about this later this week.

Cory, Vampire Slayer

Well….

So I have been busy. I went out to coast for the holidays, had a pretty good time. It is definitely a beautiful place and I loved hanging out near the ocean. The tide pools were definitely really awesome, we found Nemo, starfish, a sharks tooth and about five billion sea urchins. Luckily I practice safety first and did not have the joy of stepping on one. Unlike Sarah, but bad luck was apparently on her side as she managed to get jiggers and malaria while there. She took one for the team. While I enjoyed myself I did not enjoy the weather. I have experience 100% humidity in 90+ degree weather, it's called July in Arkansas. No thank you, beach and all I would rather just visit.

Work has really picked up. All of my groups have decided to undertake further IGAs and projects. Besides my ceramic jikos, yogurt, catering and farming. I am now helping to set up numerous other empires. So this means I am rushing to educate myself on poultry farming, goat farming, tree nurseries and paper beads.
Watch out Tyson, I'm going to take over.

I've also been doing trainings with area groups on nutrition, sack gardening and nutrition gardening. My trainings focus on child health and nutrition for people living with HIV/AIDS. I try to do demonstrations to help showcase how easy it is to grow and eat nutritious foods (not ugali). For the most part it seems relatively well received, though I have my doubters and finicky eaters. But you get those everywhere.

I spent today working with my goat/yogurt group build different types of gardens. A trainer with Heifer Project came to instruct. It was pretty good. Though I do have one complaint, and it comes up quite often with me here. No it's not the inability of people to keep time (you come to the meeting 2 hours late? All of you? No problem), I have gotten used to that. I have books. It's pretty much their opinion that I can not do anything, can not do anything for an extended period of time and tire easy. This means they often refuse to let me do a lot. Which brings out my stubborn side. So I throw myself in to the mix, even if it means I am sunburned, exhausted and have tons of blisters. I don't always choose the pain route, take today. My attempts at tilling the earth were cut short by the mama's refusing to let me handle any of the shovels or hoes. I was allowed to wield the machete to cut stakes. I made about 50 stakes, we only used 10. I can only assume the mama's are training me for some upcoming vampire invasion.

I like big butts...

I had to go to the Division Officers office today, to get some more information for my CNA and to invite them to my groups Support Day. Getting there is a pain in the butt and I try to avoid it if I can. It's way out there, matatu's do not go out there and if it rains at any point in the previous three days it is muddier than a pigs sty. Oh, it rained yesterday. A lot. It takes about an hour and a half to walk there from my house, if I walk fast and do not have to stop and greet people. I was going to meet one of the mama's, B, there at 10. I got there at 10:05. She got on to me for being late. Let me rephrase this, a Kenyan mama just got on me for being late. Five minutes late. Pot-Kettle and all. I wanted to point out that I had walked and she rode a pikipiki (motorcycle), but decided to just suck it up. So of course we get there and wait for an hour to meet with anyone. Once we were done we headed back. Because I have horrible timing, it was lunch time for the kids so they were out in droves. There were three boys along side the road. I hear one say "Habari yako." (What is the news, or how are you) and I hear another one say something else but I did not quite make out what he said. All of the sudden Mama B starts yelling at the boys, asking why are they not learning proper english and if they are why are they using rude and bad language. A mama (theirs I assume) comes out and asks what happened, mama B says some stuff in dhluo and the other woman yells something.

We get about five feet and my curiosity can take no more. I ask Mama B to tell me what the kids had said. At first she was reluctant, she said it was so bad she did not want to repeat it. She told me that the woman was apologizing and was really sorry for what the boys had said (this means they probably got a beating today about this.) I talked her into telling me. Apparently one of the boys yelled that I had a…wait for it…."small butt." I don't think I am offended by this. Though apparently I should be, at least judging by the reaction and response of the mama's. Which leads me to believe that they are aware of it (it being my small butt, though I think the word small needs to be taken into context. Kenyan women have awesome butts and small would not be a word to describe them) and assume I am self-conscious about my lack of booty and have been offended. This still tickles me.

My baba's cat had kittens, 3 of them. At least originally. She ate one. Now this same thing happened during training, but that time the mama cat ate all three of her kittens (I never saw my host Mama that upset before). Now I know why this happens and intellectually I understand it (Mama cat is not getting fed enough), but it still gives me the heevie jeevies. On a side note, I do want to keep one of the (surviving) kittens as my own. I'm down to three possible names: Gargamel (if it is a girl), Severus (if it is a boy) or Dr. Evil Whiskers.

Climb every mountain, cross no sea

I wish I could say I've been too busy to post anything on this blog. I haven't. But I am now, so no complaining.

I have had a wild past two months. My groups are organizing a support day for the orphans, widows and widowers in the community. They help provide food, clothing, school fees and other items to assist. It also means a lot of meetings. For those who are not aware of how meetings work here in Kenya (and Africa as a whole), here is a breakdown:

Meeting is scheduled for 10 AM
I arrive at 9:45 AM, walk through town and greet everyone who makes eye contact. Inform the same three pikipiki (motorcycle) drivers that I am not interested in marrying them today, but tomorrow? Who knows. Arrive at Jiko la Jamii (my yogurt group) and greet Mama Risper.
9:50-have a discussion with Mama Risper about why I am not eating mandazi (awesomely addictive fried dough) and chai.
10:00-play a little snake on my phone
10:05-10:30-make faces at all the kids that stop and gawk at me. Discuss past and future travel plans with Mama Risper
10:30-10:45-stare off in space
10:45-11:00-wander over to the VCT to talk with Dr. Abebe
11:00-11:30-return to Jiko La Jamii and help package the yogurt
11:30-the first mama arrives for the meeting.
12:00-meeting starts (if it is a good day)

So I spend more time waiting for meetings. TIA. But it gives me time to talk to people which is great and Mama Risper usually gives me a lot of yogurt to snack on. So, yahtzee.

I've finished my community needs assessment and there are a couple of programs/projects that I would really like to start here. One is a resource center for youth. Lots of the youth can not afford to go past, what we in America would consider, 8th grade. It would be great to start a program that allows them to receive training of some kind after this if they are not able to afford more school. Another project that I would like to work with is water sanitation and hygiene. These are two areas that I think would really assist the community. Next week I am meeting with some NGOs in the area to see what projects they are working on. This is all in my head for now, so who knows what the future brings.

I took a trip to Kisumu for Halloween, in engage in some good food, good friends and fake blood. Yes, I got to use my fake blood. My friend Sarah and I went as mob justice. She was the mob, I was the victim. We met up with a bunch of other PCVs at an NGO crash pad for the party. Good times.

After two weeks of being at site, I needed to get out. So last weekend I took a trip down to Sori (look at a map of Kenya and go as far west and south as you can before getting to Uganda or Tanzania and this is where I went) to visit my friends Elise, Molly, Brennan and Chris. From Elise's house you can see Lake Victoria. We sat on her porch Friday night enjoying some good wine and watching the omena fishermen come out. The lights from their boats dance across the water, making it look like christmas tree lights slowly bobbing along. It was so relaxing and fun. I am completely jealous of her site. The next day we met up with Brennan, Molly and Chris to do some hiking. We hiked up some big hill. Despite some initial fears, we were not attacked by cougars ( neither the cats nor the women searching for young men) or by black mambas. The views were spectacular, at points we could see three countries, Kenya, Uganda and Tanzania. The rest of the night was spent designing a paddle bubble/pontoon boat that would allow someone to bike across Lake Victoria, using chapati as frisbees and staring off at Lake Victoria. Then I had the longest, dustiest, bumpiest ride back home ever. Totally worth it.

Thanksgiving is coming up. Not sure what my plans are, due to some new rules PC has decided to enforce. I'm just hoping it involves food.



new items for wishlist:
-gossip mags
-mac and cheese (actually if you want to just send the packet of powdered cheese that would work too)
-Reeses Pieces
-camera memory cards

"Are you American? I love you."

Real question I got the other day

I have lucked out and have electricity at my site. Most of the time. It goes out randomly. Which is not a real problem for me, I usually just use it as my excuse to go to bed (it makes it sound better than saying "I went to bed at 8:00 because I'm tired"). It really worries my family, I live on their compound, about what I do when it goes out. They also worry about what I do for water, cooking, traveling, washing, living, etc. I'm pretty sure they wake up each morning surprised I survived the night. This often leads to them requesting (demanding) that they do stuff for me. I've tried to let them know I'm pretty self-reliant and have thus far been able to survive on my own, they usually just stare at me and start talking in dhluo really fast to each other (which means they don't want me to know what they are talking about.).

Food continues to be an issue with me. My whole day pretty much revolves around it. Thinking about it, making it and/or eating it. I even dream of food. Some people get really vivid nightmares from mephlaquin. I dream of food and peace corps. On a positive note, I have about 10 pounds of groundnuts (peanuts) that different mama's have given me.

I helped set up my first VSLA (Village Savings and Loan) today. It's pretty much a group that gets together and pays shares each meeting (social fund, development fund, shares), money is then loaned out and saved, either for personal use or for group use. Obviously there is more to it than this, but that is the gist of it. Hopefully all will go well, it's with my catering group and they are a pretty driven bunch.

I also have been going to church. Yes, church. A Catholic one. I figure it's good for my rep (also, one of the mama's in my community called me out the 2nd week I was here, wondering why I don't go to church) plus it's a break from my daily routine of: washing, reading, cleaning, washing, sleeping, eating, cleaning, watching movies. And it's near my house so I can walk. It's pretty interesting. For one, it is all in dhluo. Luckily, I've been to mass enough that I can follow along (see family, I do pay attention). Second, they have dancers and the choir does that undulating sound that I think is pretty cool (both things that would definitely liven up any mass). I also tend to attract a crowd, of kids. While this is not abnormal, this is the only place I spend 1 1/2 hours getting poked, touched and smelled. I try to shoo them away, but that just draws attention to my hand, which they then want to hold.

Got to meet with the health center today, hopefully I can get them to let me do my secondary project there. I miss health.

Adjusting to site and other such (in)conveniences

So I made it to site. And there were fireworks. Literally. Though not for me. My first night I went to a funeral and they had fireworks. Please note on the scale of awesomeness, it ranks pretty high. I expect fireworks at my funeral.

It's been awhile, I haven't had access to the internet, so this is a long one.

Some info about my site. According to Peace Corps I live in Kadongo, in Nyanza south of Lake Victoria (googling it does not really provide any information. It's small, I can almost walk across town and hold my breath). My nearest big town is either Sondu or Oyugis, both cost about 50 KSH (less than fifty cents) and take about 30 minutes to get to (less if I wasn't riding in a matatu, which stops every 5 minutes to cram 26 people, goats and chickens into an 11 person van. "Mzungu, you have two Kenyans on your lap" is an actual quote I have heard. Though generally try to draw the line at people sitting on my laps). I actually live in Oriang' (Oh-ree-angwah). Which consists of a Catholic church, one duka (small shop that sells random items) and a boarding school. It's not really a town, more of a collection of houses and said shops/businesses.

I live on the compound of a family here, Baba and Mama Dok. She works north of Lake Victoria during the week and comes home on the weekends. He is retired but sells Mpesa (a phone/money business through cell phones). They have two adult children, the girl lives in Tanzania and the boy has a house on the compound, but does not live there. There is also a family, we share the same building, that lives here (dad, mom and cute little 18 month old daughter), they do my family's house cleaning and cooking. (I do my own chores) My house (well, really it is connected to the outdoor kitchen, a storage shed and the house family's room. So it's more of an apartment?) is small. It was one room, but the Dok's partitioned it off. In total it's about 16' by 16'. But I do have electricity! For now I have running water, we use rain catchment and it's rainy season. Once this ends there is a well outside my door I can pull water from. I also have an indoor toilet! I have to manually pour water to flush, but no more pooping in holes for me!

My job is interesting. I work with four different groups in the area. One makes probiotic yogurt, one makes ceramic jiko's (stoves), one caters events and the other is a self-help group. I'm working with them to help them strengthen their groups, strengthen their businesses and network. All groups have a goal of helping to provide for the orphans and widows in the community (there is a lot of orphans in the area. Mainly due to the high prevalence of HIV/AIDS. Pretty much every group member is raising at least one orphan. Most are children of relatives, but others were found wandering around the market). I'm also working to help organize the groups under one network (Ruwonet), which I hoping to help develop. We'll see, things run in African time around here. Which means, schedules are not really kept, time is not really observed, the PCV spends a lot of time reading while waiting for people to show up for things.

I attended a graduation ceremony this past Monday. I had to give a speech. I did not know anyone graduating and it did not really have a lot to do with my job, but I was invited. I also had to preside over the cake cutting ceremony. It was odd, really cool, but odd.

The area is really cool. It's really green and these beautiful hills are all around. Sweet potato, maize, sugar cane and pineapple are mainly grown, but there are plenty of other veggies and fruits. Guava is a weed here and grows in abundance on the side of the road.

Something else that is in abundance on the side of the road: children. At least they are when they see me coming. I have yet to get one to call me "Cory" they prefer mzungu. Apparently, it is the same in dhluo as it is in kiswahili. I have made one child scream in terror just by walking by him. Score.

I promise to update more often.

Please note, when sending things:
-US Postal Service, while slowest, is the cheapest. Especially the padded envelopes. You can fill those suckers up with a lot of things.
-Write a bunch of religious sayings and bible verses on the package. Less likely to get opened or stolen
-Don't declare anything of value. Feel free to state it is books or such
-Don't send anything that you would not send to your grandmother. I most likely will have to open the package for inspection and Kenya culture is very conservative. I have a reputation to uphold (the weird mzungu who walks everywhere and speaks funny, but still I would rather be the weird mzungu than the possibly shady mzungu)
-Things could take up to 2 months for me to receive, so don't worry if it takes me awhile to confirm that I received anything.