...and in the end
Hey you,
This is the last e-mail from me while I'm in Kenya. Don't worry, I'll send you one as soon as I have my pics up on one of those websites. That way you can view them from the comfort of your home, and wearing just your bathrobe if you wish. Not a tactic I recommend if you're going to look at them while at work; you may get funny stares.
I've attached my most recent column. I will have one more after I get back and then that's all folks. This one got me 3 replies from 'fans'. Funny enough, one of the e-mails was from a lady that runs a Kenyan restaurant inviting me to come 'promote' her. She listed all this Kenyan food that I've never heard of, mostly b/c I really haven't eaten much of the local cuisine. My colleagues teased me about that this past week.
I'll get to my long weekend adventures in a moment. The BIG exciting news: I found a pair of Air Jordans for only $45 CDN. Not from some street vendor but from an actual store. It's a promotion price to build awareness of the new location. I have my doubts that they are real since they don't come in a box (back of a truck anyone?), and I do have moral qualms about counterfeit merchandise, but the store owner told me that they were authentic. I don't know what more due diligence I could do than that?
I just know, thanks the marketing machine that is Nike, that these shoes will make me a much better basketball player. My proof: LeBron James wears Nikes and he's awesome, hence I'm concluding a causal effect, and I too will be awesome in my new pair of Nikes.
You'll be pleased to know that racism is everywhere, even in Kenya. The storekeeper was trying to sell me socks (why would he think I need socks, notwithstanding all of my socks have huge holes in them?) and he showed me a pair of Nike socks. When I said that the label on the package read "soccer", meaning the socks were designed for soccer and not basketball, he said "the chinese don't know what soccer is." He was an Indian man (a number of businesses in Nakuru are owned by Indians), but I was still tempted to ask him if it gets hot wearing his white hood in Nakuru.
The four day weekend was incredibly boring. There is really not much to do in Nakuru. Had I travelled anywhere, coming home on Sunday from Nairobi would've just been crazy.
However, on the Saturday there was a kid who was begging for change on the street (a recurring theme here in Nakuru) so I took him to lunch. He sat with me b/c I was going to eat too. I found out only his name directly - Steven Ndugu. Everything else - his age (7 years old), where his parents live - I had to find out through the waiter as an interpreter. Steven's english was worse than my kiswahili. I ended up feeding 3 more kids later that evening.
On Monday as I was walking into town, I was kind of hoping to avoid the street kids. A number of them approached me, and I took them and a few stragglers to the same restaurant where I always take them - six in total. One of the patrons shook my hand. As I exited, I was hit up for cash from one more kid so I marched him into the restaurant and paid for his meal. One of those 7 kids was the same Steven Ndugu - I recognized him in his dirty shirt with a puppy dog on it.
On Wednesday morning as I walked into town, I saw Steven Ndugu again - this time with a glue bottle. On some levels I felt betrayed - I had never seen the glue bottle previously, and I wondered if anything, was I compounding the problem by feeding them, because now they can use money that they collect for glue. That afternoon I ran into Steven again - he asked me for money for 'bread' mimicking eating a piece of bread. I told him I'd buy him food if he gave me the glue bottle. Neither of us budged in our negotiations so I just walked away. He kept following me and I just kept saying 'sorry' and 'go away' in kiswahilli.
If anything, being here has been very emotionally draining. To see kids living on the street, getting high on glue to deal with their hunger pangs, etc. is very hard day in and day out. To me street kids represent the ultimate in giving up hope, b/c if they're on the street, they will never break out of the cycle of poverty. And it is not that easy to get them rehabilitated either - many of them from what I've been told run away from the rehab centres b/c they are used to having so much freedom. And it's not just kids - many a day I see this one guy without any digits begging for change and the other day I saw a man who only had one leg, using this long pole to support himself as he hunkered down.
One of the mzungus who lives in Nakuru now, and heads up the Nakuru Business Association, which is trying to restore Nakuru to its former glory, calls these kids 'casualties' b/c their situation is a result of all the graft and corruption by the local gov't. There's really nothing sadder in the world than seeing these kids living out in the streets.
The honest truth is that there's not much about Nakuru that I will miss. The only thing I can say that I will miss is interacting with the little kids here in Nakuru (the non-street kids). This past week, as I walked into town there was one little toddler, probably no older than 2, and I tapped this kid on the shoulder as I walked past him. He started scurrying after me holding his hand to be shooken. Once, kids crossed the street to shake my hand. I feel like Barney at times. That's what I'll miss. Little kids calling me 'mzungu' = cute; adults on boda bodas or selling things calling me 'mzungu' = not cute and uber-annoying.
The manager at my gym asked me for my iPod. He said I could get a new one in London. Once I told him how much it cost, that ended that line of discussions. Even if I got a new iPod in London, I would be completely songless. Which begs the question - what is the true value of an iPod?
The four day weekend was incredibly boring. There is really not much to do in Nakuru. Had I travelled anywhere, coming home on Sunday from Nairobi would've just been crazy.
However, on the Saturday there was a kid who was begging for change on the street (a recurring theme here in Nakuru) so I took him to lunch. He sat with me b/c I was going to eat too. I found out only his name directly - Steven Ndugu. Everything else - his age (7 years old), where his parents live - I had to find out through the waiter as an interpreter. Steven's english was worse than my kiswahili. I ended up feeding 3 more kids later that evening.
On Monday as I was walking into town, I was kind of hoping to avoid the street kids. A number of them approached me, and I took them and a few stragglers to the same restaurant where I always take them - six in total. One of the patrons shook my hand. As I exited, I was hit up for cash from one more kid so I marched him into the restaurant and paid for his meal. One of those 7 kids was the same Steven Ndugu - I recognized him in his dirty shirt with a puppy dog on it.
On Wednesday morning as I walked into town, I saw Steven Ndugu again - this time with a glue bottle. On some levels I felt betrayed - I had never seen the glue bottle previously, and I wondered if anything, was I compounding the problem by feeding them, because now they can use money that they collect for glue. That afternoon I ran into Steven again - he asked me for money for 'bread' mimicking eating a piece of bread. I told him I'd buy him food if he gave me the glue bottle. Neither of us budged in our negotiations so I just walked away. He kept following me and I just kept saying 'sorry' and 'go away' in kiswahilli.
If anything, being here has been very emotionally draining. To see kids living on the street, getting high on glue to deal with their hunger pangs, etc. is very hard day in and day out. To me street kids represent the ultimate in giving up hope, b/c if they're on the street, they will never break out of the cycle of poverty. And it is not that easy to get them rehabilitated either - many of them from what I've been told run away from the rehab centres b/c they are used to having so much freedom. And it's not just kids - many a day I see this one guy without any digits begging for change and the other day I saw a man who only had one leg, using this long pole to support himself as he hunkered down.
One of the mzungus who lives in Nakuru now, and heads up the Nakuru Business Association, which is trying to restore Nakuru to its former glory, calls these kids 'casualties' b/c their situation is a result of all the graft and corruption by the local gov't. There's really nothing sadder in the world than seeing these kids living out in the streets.
The honest truth is that there's not much about Nakuru that I will miss. The only thing I can say that I will miss is interacting with the little kids here in Nakuru (the non-street kids). This past week, as I walked into town there was one little toddler, probably no older than 2, and I tapped this kid on the shoulder as I walked past him. He started scurrying after me holding his hand to be shooken. Once, kids crossed the street to shake my hand. I feel like Barney at times. That's what I'll miss. Little kids calling me 'mzungu' = cute; adults on boda bodas or selling things calling me 'mzungu' = not cute and uber-annoying.
The manager at my gym asked me for my iPod. He said I could get a new one in London. Once I told him how much it cost, that ended that line of discussions. Even if I got a new iPod in London, I would be completely songless. Which begs the question - what is the true value of an iPod?
I've basically had requests for everything except the shirt off of my back. Oh wait, one of the hawkers that I know complimented me on the shirt I was wearing the other day (a Toronto Blue Jays' t), so I guess in a subtle way he was probably asking for it, since he did know that I am leaving on Thursday. I am donating a number of pieces of clothing to an NGO here, and I gave the coach of the boxing gym where I used to train 1000 ksh to be put towards tournament expenses.
Now, I'm just spending the days tying up loose ends, handing over my files, reading. I'm still reading the Economist and Time on a regular basis, and I am almost done "Crime and Punishment" which is a very punishing read.
You probably know that I've already started fundraising for the CIBC Run for the Cure. I've reached nearly 20% of my goal.
I have figured out the tooth mystery in Kenya. They love their sugar here. My colleagues will put two teaspoons of sugar in tea made with milk where I will put none. One of the cereals for sale in Kenya has the following instructions:
1) pour cereal
2) pour milk
3) add sugar
4) add fruit if you wish.
Sugar is mandatory, and fruit, one of the four basic food groups, of which you're supposed to eat 5 to 10 day servings a day, is optional. Plus, on that same box of cereal, the second ingredient listed: sugar.
I've started the packing process already. The ruungu sticks are packed away. Also in the "Why did I buy that?" category: Massai necklaces for my family. What's so bad about these necklaces? Well the big ones are the size of an LP and the smaller ones are the size of a 45. (My little cousins will have no clue what I'm talking about when they read that.) And they are made of beads, so a number of them are kind of heavy.
On the topic of "stupid purchases" I'm thinking of buying a shield with the Kenyan design/colours on it. This would actually be a semi-practical purchase in case I ever have to go to war. Plus, I'm given my brothers ruungu sticks, and it can't be very wise to give them a weapon without giving myself some way to protect myself.
I suppose the worst case scenario is I can leave all my souvenirs in Vancouver in trust with my friend and let people go there to pick 'em up.
One word to sum it up: interesting. The level of poverty amazes me. I can't walk anywhere in Nakuru without seeing someone begging for change or kids with glue bottles stuck to their mouths. It's like these people have been completely forgotten. And unfortunately for me to see any direct results from the work that I did here, is a 2 year commitment minimum. I'd go stark raving mad if I had to stay here that long. I can deal better with the isolation than I can with seeing the street kids.
I'm glad I did it, but I'd have preferred to be working directly with small businesses.
Will I miss Kenya? Sure in the winter, when I'm freezing, and maybe in the summer when the humidity makes being in Toronto unbearable. I will NOT miss having to sleep under a mosquito net (not that I always stay under it at night, which explains the plethora of 'squito bites). But I miss eating fruit and salads - I don't really feel comfortable eating vegetables here unless they're cooked.
FYI: While I am going to keep this e-mail address, effective May 1 most of my correspondence will go through jacob_kojfman@hotmail.com
So really, that's it. I'm signing off.
Thanks for coming along for the ride.
Aerosmith in two weeks!
Jacob
posted by kacob at 6:43 AM
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