I said goodbye to my Kisauni host family yesterday. It was really sad. They wanted me to look special for my trip back to Nairobi, so they decked me out in henna, an updo with extensions, makeup, and a lime green Swahili dress. I looked like a white Swahili bride. There were tears, and questions of whether I will come back in December for the cultural festival in Lamu. I had to tell them probably not, as I have classes through most of December... then they loaded me onto the night bus to Nairobi. After watching them catch a matatu back to Kisauni, I quickly changed into jeans and a t-shirt, because as touching as their gesture was, it really wouldn't have been a good idea to arrive in a somewhat-sketchy part of Nairobi looking like that. I'll really miss them. They have so little, but always managed to welcome everyone into their home for extended stays. I wasn't ready to say goodbye.
Arriving in Nairobi this morning was surreal... I felt like I was back in the United States. I still do. First off, since the politics have cooled down, there are tons of white people here now. It's actually really weird. Things look so established and clean... I have no idea how I'll react when I actually do return to the U.S.
Friends and family, please be patient with me when I come home. I feel like I have a million and one stories that I want to share with everyone and a million things I want to do (when I know everyone will be busy taking finals.) I also know for a fact that I'll have difficulty at first listening to the trials and tribulations of American life. We can really have whatever we want whenever we want it, and I now know at what cost. At the same time though, I look forward to all of my privileges, which I feel a little guilty about. It will be a very strange first meal home at one of the swankiest restaurants in Rochester.
I look forward to seeing and hearing from all of you soon!
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Hooray for Lists
I've been weighing and analyzing my semester abroad in my mind as well as in numerous pointless "Maximizing Study Abroad" assignments, and I have come up with two lists- things I will miss about Kenya, and things I look forward to when going home. I've realized that as much as I look forward to going home, I also want to stay here. I feel like there's so much I haven't seen or done, and so much left to do. I'm just starting to feel comfortable, and it's nearly time to leave. I do miss home though. For those of you who really love me, perhaps you could go ahead and purchase the material things I miss from home for me. Just kidding, of course. Sort of.
Things I will miss in Kenya:
Things I will miss in Kenya:
- Matatus
- Dancing
- Rastas and Rasta hats
- The Indian Ocean
- Taking more time in everything I do
- The Wema Centre Girls (especially my 8-year old Kiswahili tutor Pauline)
- 20-shilling fresh mango juice
- Ugali and beans
- Staying up late talking to my sisters
- Bongo, reggae, and R&B everywhere
- My morning chai
- Fred Jonyo and his hilarious analogies
- Being called "Auntie Kelsey," "Kesley" "Kesi" (court case) and "Kazi" (work)
- Doing little but feeling like I had a fulfilling day
- Friends and family
- Cheese
- Knowing I will receive correct change without arguing
- Hot showers
- Cold weather
- Fast, accessible internet
- Diet coke
- Blending in
- Being in charge of my own diet
- Being in charge of my own life
- Free nights and weekends on my cell phone
- Set prices
- A properly functioning digestive system
- Reliability of everything- including people
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Hamjambo tena, watu wote!
I would like to start off by saying that the prose piece was not intended to worry anyone- I am very safe here, just often annoyed. Such is the price for being so beautiful (and by beautiful I mean white.)
Other than that, I've been spending a lot of time at Wema Centre and with my Mombasa family lately. Wema Centre is great, although I think I'd be able to do a lot more if I spoke more Kiswahili. The remedial class I work with is mostly first-graders, so they speak only in Kiswahili and I'm not much use to them in teaching. We have fun playing, though, and I grade their assignments, so I'm doing something at least.
The computer class I assist in is where I think I'm of much more use. I help adult students in MS Word and Powerpoint, and I feel like I'm doing more there than in the remedial class. I'm enjoying myself at Wema Centre, which is great because I know other program participants are having difficultues with their internships.
As for the home life, I love my family here, which is why it's so difficult when they put me in awkward money-related situations. Let's just say we have electricity now and guess who paid for it... I've haven't been paid back like promised, and I'm unsure of how to tell them that, although I'm a white American, I'm not at the point in my life where I can support a 6-person household. They're all great people though, and I can't blame anyone here for seeking money when they need it. There aren't employment opportunities around without connections, making finding money very difficult.
Living by modest means hasn't been as hard as I thought it would. I've really been surprised at myself. Yesterday, I opened my suitcase to take out a fresh pair of underwear and found a dead cockroach inside them. I just brushed it off and put them on, then realized what had just happened. I had to laugh about it. I did jump when a big one ran right over me on my bed, which is why I always use my mosquito net now, but overall, I think I'm a lot less of a pansy than before.
My semester is quickly coming to an end, and I'm realizing that I have three 15-page papers due in just 3 weeks which I haven't made much headway on. I really need to get my act in gear and crank these papers out. Coming home will be bittersweet; there are many people and comforts I miss a lot, but I wonder if I'll ever come back to Kenya. People here keep asking me to stay, or to return after my studies, and when they ask me if I will, I need to say honestly that I don't know. This trip has shown me that I'm a lot more adaptable than I thought I was, but I'm still not sure if I could ever really live in Africa. I'll need to reflect on it awhile in the U.S. and see.
I would like to start off by saying that the prose piece was not intended to worry anyone- I am very safe here, just often annoyed. Such is the price for being so beautiful (and by beautiful I mean white.)
Other than that, I've been spending a lot of time at Wema Centre and with my Mombasa family lately. Wema Centre is great, although I think I'd be able to do a lot more if I spoke more Kiswahili. The remedial class I work with is mostly first-graders, so they speak only in Kiswahili and I'm not much use to them in teaching. We have fun playing, though, and I grade their assignments, so I'm doing something at least.
The computer class I assist in is where I think I'm of much more use. I help adult students in MS Word and Powerpoint, and I feel like I'm doing more there than in the remedial class. I'm enjoying myself at Wema Centre, which is great because I know other program participants are having difficultues with their internships.
As for the home life, I love my family here, which is why it's so difficult when they put me in awkward money-related situations. Let's just say we have electricity now and guess who paid for it... I've haven't been paid back like promised, and I'm unsure of how to tell them that, although I'm a white American, I'm not at the point in my life where I can support a 6-person household. They're all great people though, and I can't blame anyone here for seeking money when they need it. There aren't employment opportunities around without connections, making finding money very difficult.
Living by modest means hasn't been as hard as I thought it would. I've really been surprised at myself. Yesterday, I opened my suitcase to take out a fresh pair of underwear and found a dead cockroach inside them. I just brushed it off and put them on, then realized what had just happened. I had to laugh about it. I did jump when a big one ran right over me on my bed, which is why I always use my mosquito net now, but overall, I think I'm a lot less of a pansy than before.
My semester is quickly coming to an end, and I'm realizing that I have three 15-page papers due in just 3 weeks which I haven't made much headway on. I really need to get my act in gear and crank these papers out. Coming home will be bittersweet; there are many people and comforts I miss a lot, but I wonder if I'll ever come back to Kenya. People here keep asking me to stay, or to return after my studies, and when they ask me if I will, I need to say honestly that I don't know. This trip has shown me that I'm a lot more adaptable than I thought I was, but I'm still not sure if I could ever really live in Africa. I'll need to reflect on it awhile in the U.S. and see.
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
Thoughts on the Public Beach
a prose piece by Kelsey
Sijambo! Yes, the United States. No, I've been here since January. Not until May. No, no wooden giraffes for me today. Because they're huge and will never fit in my suitcase. No, no. Ok dude, shoving the keychains in my face doesn't make them any less tacky, Hapana, Asante. Rasta mama? That's a new one. Nice change from mzungu. No, I do not want to pay 300ksh to ride the camel. Yes, I see you put a little straw hat on him. My answer is still no. Ok, get the camel's head out of my face and niache, tafadhali.
Wow, the water is so warm. Holy crap, there's like 20 men to every woman. This won't be good. No, I don't need swimming lessons, I know how to swim. Yes, we do swim in the U.S. We have several lakes and two oceans, in fact. No, I won't race you. Or date you. I don't have a phone. I don't know my address. I like Obama and Clinton both. Yes, I know Obama's father was from Kenya. No, I don't prefer Clinton because I'm a racist. Let's please stop talking about U.S. politics. Because I'm sick of explaining myself. No, I don't think all Muslims are terrorists. No, I don't, quit telling me how I think. Leave me alone. Niache. Because I don't like you, Sikupendi. How can I feel free when you won't go away? NIACHE! Eww, why are you making suggestive gestures at me, old man? I'm not coming any closer. You've got to be pushing 60. Enough with the eyebrows, when has that maneuver ever been successful? Please don't swim closer, ok guys, let's go. Crap, they're swarming. Time to bolt it to the host brother.
All right, time to find a matatu. This one is empty, let's go. Ok, full now, let's head back. Wait a minute, the conductor seriously thinks we can fit 20 people in a 14 passenger van? Hi, yes, yes I know I'm white, thanks, I forgot for a whole 2 seconds. Excuse me? Is my father a terrorist? Because he made one sexy bomb? Ok, that has to be the worst line I've ever received. No, no Nabil, please don't threaten to beat him. You're not very big and will surely die. Just ignore him, I'm used to it. No, I don't have a phone, I don't know my address. Oh thank God, my stop.
Sijambo! Yes, the United States. No, I've been here since January. Not until May. No, no wooden giraffes for me today. Because they're huge and will never fit in my suitcase. No, no. Ok dude, shoving the keychains in my face doesn't make them any less tacky, Hapana, Asante. Rasta mama? That's a new one. Nice change from mzungu. No, I do not want to pay 300ksh to ride the camel. Yes, I see you put a little straw hat on him. My answer is still no. Ok, get the camel's head out of my face and niache, tafadhali.
Wow, the water is so warm. Holy crap, there's like 20 men to every woman. This won't be good. No, I don't need swimming lessons, I know how to swim. Yes, we do swim in the U.S. We have several lakes and two oceans, in fact. No, I won't race you. Or date you. I don't have a phone. I don't know my address. I like Obama and Clinton both. Yes, I know Obama's father was from Kenya. No, I don't prefer Clinton because I'm a racist. Let's please stop talking about U.S. politics. Because I'm sick of explaining myself. No, I don't think all Muslims are terrorists. No, I don't, quit telling me how I think. Leave me alone. Niache. Because I don't like you, Sikupendi. How can I feel free when you won't go away? NIACHE! Eww, why are you making suggestive gestures at me, old man? I'm not coming any closer. You've got to be pushing 60. Enough with the eyebrows, when has that maneuver ever been successful? Please don't swim closer, ok guys, let's go. Crap, they're swarming. Time to bolt it to the host brother.
All right, time to find a matatu. This one is empty, let's go. Ok, full now, let's head back. Wait a minute, the conductor seriously thinks we can fit 20 people in a 14 passenger van? Hi, yes, yes I know I'm white, thanks, I forgot for a whole 2 seconds. Excuse me? Is my father a terrorist? Because he made one sexy bomb? Ok, that has to be the worst line I've ever received. No, no Nabil, please don't threaten to beat him. You're not very big and will surely die. Just ignore him, I'm used to it. No, I don't have a phone, I don't know my address. Oh thank God, my stop.
Friday, March 28, 2008
Mombasa is very hot
I'm working on a longer post, but right now I'm killing some time before going to the ferry to go to Diani this weekend! I'm shamelessly excited to be going to a tourist beach. More on the public beach in my upcoming post.
My family here is great- I have my mother Shadia, brothers Nabil (17) and Fadhil (2,) and sisters Iptisam (15) and Hafsa (13.) We're staying in Kisauni just outside Mombasa right next to the big Mosque, which is very beautiful and loud. Things are quite rural- no running water or electricity, but I think I'm adjusting well.
My internship is both confusing and interesting- more on it later, but it seems there is no need for orientations or training in this country, so I've just been winging it.
Miss you all!
My family here is great- I have my mother Shadia, brothers Nabil (17) and Fadhil (2,) and sisters Iptisam (15) and Hafsa (13.) We're staying in Kisauni just outside Mombasa right next to the big Mosque, which is very beautiful and loud. Things are quite rural- no running water or electricity, but I think I'm adjusting well.
My internship is both confusing and interesting- more on it later, but it seems there is no need for orientations or training in this country, so I've just been winging it.
Miss you all!
Monday, March 17, 2008
When in Rome...
I have no running water at my next homestay, so I figured a hairstyle I don't need to wash or comb would be best.
Monday, March 10, 2008
A short lesson in Kiswahili
Hamjambo, Wanafunzi!
I thought I'd teach you all a little lesson in Kiswahili this week! Here is a list of all of the phrases that have come in handy during my travels thus far. Feel free to use them if you ever grace the country of Kenya.
I thought I'd teach you all a little lesson in Kiswahili this week! Here is a list of all of the phrases that have come in handy during my travels thus far. Feel free to use them if you ever grace the country of Kenya.
Tuende! Let's go! Useful when urging lagging classmates and host brothers along.
Bei ngapi? How much is the price? Helpful when shopping in the market- you can get lower prices if you bargain in Kiswahili!
Usiniguse! Don't touch me! This will come in handy when dealing with a certain host brother who habitually pets you like a dog.
Niache! Leave me! Gets those market "helpers" off your back. Don't believe anyone who offers to "help" you bargain- they're getting a cut of the sale.
Sawasawa? Alright/Ok? More fun to say in Kiswahili than in English.
Sina pesa. I don't have money. Useful in the market, on the street, and when answering your host brother's request for a new watch when you know very well he broke his last one a day after purchase by testing its water resistance.
Pole! Sorry! Useful when apologizing to a classmate for chickening out for the third time when trying to cross the street, and holding them back with you.
Nina mpenzi. I have a boyfriend. If this doesn't work, Nina mume may be more effective. (I have a husband.)
There you go- the survival sayings kwa Kiswahili. Enjoy!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)