It’s hard to believe that after what feels like a blink of an eye, my time here at Suvia is coming to an end. I think after spending 6 months in Tanzania I’ve become spoiled… 2 months in a new place now feels like no time at all. It’s no wonder I don’t want to leave Kenya yet!
When I first arrived here at Suvia, I met another volunteer who had come from Canada to work at the orphanage for a couple months. Jo, aka Margaret, was my age with a similar sense of humor and I was so happy to see how easily we bonded. Surely the two of us being so outside of our element helped us to relate, and she was really sweet about going out of her way to help me become acclimated to my new homestay. My first full day there in the village was a Sunday, and she and I went with Reverend Kisua to his church for service. Jo told me she usually went to church with the Suvia girls at a church closer to the home, so it was new for her, too… and we were both a little overwhelmed by the experience. One female preacher enthusiastically greeted us with HUGE hugs, sat us down inside and asked a series of point-blank questions, rapid fire! “What denomination of Christianity are you? Are you saved? What is the name of your church back home?” Oh what’s a Jewish girl to do… Jo later told me that she is not religious at all, so we had a chance to lament over the uncomfortably alienating experience together later. In truth, I do believe in a higher power, but coming from a place where there is such a high sensitivity for politically correctedness and tolerance for diversity (not to mention my own personal belief that religion/spirituality is an intimately personal affair), this type of questioning felt like an interrogation and it took a while for me to get used to praying as a group several times a day.
Although it’s uncomfortable at times, it’s a huge part of this culture which is what I wanted to experience, so I have done my best to be open to participating in these moments and even leading prayers when asked. The service was long—upwards of 4 hours—and entirely in Kikamba so I sometimes struggled to keep my eyes open, there in my chair perched in front of the whole congregation where they seated Jo and me. One thing I like about services here though, is the way they accept offerings. I actually have no idea where money given for offerings goes, but the way they accommodate people in this village setting is neat: If you have no money to give for the offering, you may bring in something else worth selling. I’ve seen people bring in a sack of eggs, a papaya, a bunch of collard greens, or even a chicken. After the offerings are collected, they basically hold a mini auction there in the church, and the item is sold to the highest bidder. Once they win the item, person then gives that money as the offering, and then chooses someone else there in the church to give the item to as a gift! Our preacher lady friend bought a papaya which she then gave to “wageni wetu” (our visitors), Jo and me. It was quite sweet.
About a week into my time at Suvia I had planned out the gardens, and Joshua came out from Nairobi to help me buy the gardening materials I’d need. We spent the day in the nearest town, Machakos, gathering shovels, hoes, watering cans, seeds—the works. Joshua was a huge help in showing me where to go, not to mention charming the often female cashiers into giving us a discount! We had gone into town with the reverend in his car, so we dropped the materials with him and stopped by Joshua’s parents’ home to get his motorcycle before zipping back to the village. Bouncing along those rocky dirt roads all the way back to the village on the back of the bike was too much fun, and I found that Joshua’s threats to teach me how to ride made me way more eager than I had expected to be. After showing me around the surrounding villages a bit that afternoon, I had my first motorcycle lesson just before dusk. I was pretty nervous to be sitting in the front of the bike, and the way all the people on the road stop to stare/laugh/point at/try to distract the mzungu girl on the motorcycle didn’t exactly help (You don’t often see females riding motorcycles around here in the first place). It was a good first lesson though! The couple times I got going and heard Joshua say “Hey, I’ve let go—you’re on your own!” gave me such a rush I had to try not to scream! As anxious as I was to feel like I could kill myself or others at any given moment... riding was a thrill I couldn’t give up. The seed was sown. I was determined to master that bike! Over time my nerves subsided and I gained confidence on the motorcycle. It’s particularly neat that my classroom has been the gnarled, sometimes overly dusty, sometimes overly muddy roads of rural Kenya—I feel like if I can master this, riding on asphalt will be a piece of cake. Although I wouldn’t say yet that I’ve mastered the motorcycle, after two months of semi-weekly lessons I’ve got a pretty decent handle on the thing, and I love riding it through the village when Joshua comes around.
After days of working in the garden Jo and I (and Joshua if he’s around) would spend evenings hanging out at home. Mexican telenovelas dubbed over in painfully goofy English are super popular here, and Jo introduced me to her guilty pleasure: Triunfo de Amor (Triumph of Love)! I have received confirmation from my homeboy Pedro back home that it is in fact on air in Southern California, so I now feel even more connected to a global community. Haha! I also love the way that if I meet another female my age around here or Nairobi, I can almost certainly bond with her over the latest drama happening on the show. Outside of television dramas, we’d spend our time playing cards, laying on top of the huge water tank in the back to watch the stars, naming any of the otherwise unnamed animals around the house, or getting ourselves into any number of silly antics.
Unfortunately, Jo was only around for a couple weeks after I got here, so it was sad to see her leave so soon. Jo helped the matrons fry up a bucket of chapati (delicious fried flat bread) for most of her last day, and we spent the evening singing and dancing with the girls, and of course feasting. Africans are big on giving speeches, especially in lieu of a farewell, so we got to hear from lots of folks around the home giving her their well wishes—including me of course! The next day she was off to Nairobi, where her boyfriend from Canada was flying in to meet her for some sight-seeing before leaving the country. I tagged along for the journey by matatu, (Kenya’s version of Tanzanian dala dalas, the public transport) which consists of about an hour and a half from the homestay to Machakos, then another matatu ride of about 2+ hours from there to Nairobi. We met up with Joshua and he and I left Jo to get “reacquainted” with her man at their hotel, while Joshua set me up with his sister to stay for the weekend. We had an awesome weekend visiting museums, an elephant orphanage, and a famous restaurant in Nairobi called Carnivore, where I happily ordered vegetarian.
After Jo and her guy took off, Joshua and I returned to Machakos and spent the remainder of the weekend playing pool, cards, or motorcycles. I went to church with the girls that Sunday—a rather exhausting experience, because the services there are also long, and also in Kikamba. Although the girls can doze off in each other’s laps throughout the service, there are always several sets of giggling eyes on me at all times, so I have to be sure I’m following along and my eyes are OPEN. Usually there is at least one girl playing with my bracelets, my hair, or playing with my hand in her lap to help keep me awake and tuned in. After the service that Sunday some girls came back to the house to help grind maize to make flour for ugali. I saw them crunching on some white starchy looking vegetable, and they told me it was raw cassava. Pastor Kisua mentioned that I shouldn’t have any, because I have a weak mzungu tummy. Of course, nothing could have made me want to try it more! It was rather tasteless with an interestingly crunchy-chewy consistency, and I’m pleased to say that it had no adverse effects on my stomach. I learned later however, that if you eat any of the skin or the pith you can get very sick, as they contain trace amounts of cyanide!
After a productive week in the gardens at Suvia, spent gathering the poisonous milk from euphorbia plants to make a natural pest spray, and constructing a fence around my nursery to keep the chickens out, I returned to Machakos to meet Joshua’s family. His mama had just graduated with a Bachelors of Divinity and they had a big party to celebrate—it was so sweet of them to invite me. Joshua was coming in from Nairobi and I got to the party before him. The program began with prayers, speeches, and some preaching before Joshua arrived and quietly sat down next to me. As the speaker continued in front, Joshua whispered in my ear, “Hello… is it me you’re looking for?” (Cheesy 1980s rock ballad lyrics) I almost exploded with laughter and fought hard to choke it back! I have the coolest friends...
I got to meet the rest of Joshua’s sisters that I hadn’t met before, and they were all just as fun and friendly as he is, all insisting that I come to their homes and visit for chai or for a meal sometime.
We had a fun night visiting with cousins and other relatives, and the next morning set off for Nairobi. It was Joshua’s birthday weekend, so we had an agenda! Shortly after arriving in town we grabbed food and drinks before heading to Nairobi’s Safari Walk (where Joshua worked his charm to convince the girl working the ticket counter to give me the resident rate without ID). Joshua and I were joined by his cousin John and homeboy Nilton, and the boys had a great time harassing those poor animals… not to mention the poor couples out for a romantic stroll through the park. The male lion in particular seemed to get overly aggravated with the guys’ taunting at the glass window, and at one point charged the window with an unnervingly deep, window-rattling ROAR. Everyone jolted back from the window, it was terrifying! To this day I am surprised no one got eaten before we left the park.
From there we took a matatu into town and met up with some friends at a bar. We spent the rest of the night hopping between bars and clubs, drinking, dancing, and celebrating Joshua’s birthday proper. We were lucky enough to have a hero of a designated driver who at one point found himself chauffeuring at least 10 of us in his 5-seater car. As we approached the club we were headed to, a cop flagged us down to pull over and scolded us for having so many people in the car. As expected, he demanded a bribe to let us go, but homeboy in the driver’s seat remained cool and calm, and talked our way out of it. It wasn’t long before we were on our way again—hallelujah! Truly lucky. There’s no such thing as “last call” here, so as different friends came and went all night, the party didn’t stop until well past 5am, when the remaining group of us crashed on the floor in a friend’s tiny apartment. After a nap of about an hour or two, Joshua shook me awake and we trekked back to his place, still in a daze, where we each showered and then slept until 1pm. Now that’s a good birthday.
Back at Suvia, the gardens were coming along nicely. Around that time I had finished my first double-dug bed, but had hurt my back badly trying to finish it in a hurry. We were still waiting on the rains, so the soil was extremely hard and dry, and I over exerted my back trying to till quickly. I laughed when I re-read in my last blog entry about the “minor back injury” that I was dealing with… that “minor” back injury ended up giving me trouble for the entire remainder of my time at Suvia. In fact, I am now writing on my last day at Suvia and it was only yesterday that I was able to do some semi-strenuous work in the gardens with minimal back pain for the first time since I hurt myself. Still, I managed to continue to make progress as I worked at the home, although not without a lot of help from others and certainly not at the pace at which I had hoped to maintain. A group of engineers from the government’s Ministry of Water and Irrigation had been drilling for water at Suvia for several weeks and finally finished around that time, so with the flash of a girly mzungu smile, I found myself with a group of men helping me dig for almost an entire day! Joshua was also a digging champion, and through all this help I was able to complete a total of 3 garden beds. Considering the injury, it’s not bad compared to my original goal of 4! I’m so grateful for the help I received. I had so many extra seedlings, too, so I have been really pleased to see Peninah, one of the matrons, roll up her sleeves and take to the gardens with fervor! She paid no mind to my efforts of keeping the gardens organic, which is a bit of a drag, but I am at least glad that the seedlings are being planted all over the compound and the girls will enjoy a much wider range of veggies in no time.
One afternoon after I was finishing up one of the garden beds, Joshua arrived on the bike and told me class was in session! We took off on the motorcycle, me in front with my teacher in the back, and explored areas of the surrounding villages that even Joshua had never been to. Although it was a sunny day, the rainy season had already come, so the hills of Ukambani were greener than I had seen them before. The bright red soil contrasted against the rows of green crops on the benches of the terraced hills was breathtaking as we zipped in and out of the peaks and valleys. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, the air was sweet with the scent of moist soil, and the hills looked so fertile and green. I’ll never forget how beautiful that day was! It wasn’t long though, before we noticed some dark clouds approaching… and we weren’t exactly close to home. We continued on warily with little other option, and watched some massive rain clouds creep nearer and nearer. When we felt the first sprinkle of raindrops we seemed to be in the middle of nowhere, and Joshua poignantly sighed with a, “Shit…” He shifted to the front of the bike and I held on tight behind him as we buckled down for a hasty search for shelter while the raindrops got heavier. We found a tiny local bar and quickly parked the bike under a tree and ducked inside just as the really heavy rain let loose. Joshua removed the inner lining of his jacket and gave me the outer shell to wear as the chill set in, and we watched the rain pounding outside as we waited for it to let up.
We soon got moving again, only we continued with Joshua in the front as the roads were a muddy mess after the downpour. It only took him a couple minutes to use the surrounding hills to reorient himself and figure out how to get to the main road. We, somehow, decided to visit Kikima—a nearby village I had been to once before—and took the paved main road to a muddy turn-off where we ran into a crowd of people watching as a couple big matatus were badly stuck in the mud. We passed them and saw that the road to Kikima was in really bad shape… terribly muddy, and the few cars and motorcycles we could see emerging from it were slipping and sliding all over the place. We pulled over to watch for a moment, and it was hard not to laugh! The road was so slick and everyone attempting to use it was covered in mud, it was pure comedy! I turned to Joshua, expecting him to say, “Well, we’ll try to go to Kikima another day.” Instead, I heard, “You ready?!”
I couldn’t believe that Joshua wanted to attempt that road in the condition it was in… but if he was game, I was in! It felt like we were trying to ride on a road of gooshy, melted butter right off the bat. The bike paid little attention to where Joshua wanted it to go, and the rounded shape of the road quickly pushed us out to the side, up against the terraced bench of the adjacent shambas. Although there weren’t many other vehicles on the road, the few that we encountered were skating all over the place as badly as we were, and we’d periodically catch up with young men, barefoot in the mud, running up and down the roads cheerfully helping any vehicles as they continually got stuck. Truly, it was hilarious to see everyone sliding so wildly and the best part was that everyone had such a great sense of humor about it. Everyone we encountered along that damn road was laughing as hard as we were as they tried to gain control of either their vehicle or their own feet! I remember seeing one impressive man maneuver his motorcycle slowly down the middle of the road, oh so carefully as to not let it dip on to either side where it would quickly slide down to the trap of the ditches on the sides of the road—his legs flailing on either side of his bike as he struggled desperately to maintain balance. We wrestled with the bike and slid all over that road for the whole of the afternoon, having to get off and push several times, becoming comically covered in mud throughout. Reaching Kikima quickly fell out of sight… our only goal became to get back onto a solid road and try to get home before dark! After hours of exhausting laughter and countless wipe-outs, we finally made it to some decent roads by dusk, and arrived back at Suvia shortly after sun-down. We had a hell of a time explaining where we had been and why we were so muddy! Fortunately Reverend Kisua just laughed at our story and just said, “That is youth!!”
After more time spent doing light work in the gardens during my back injury, punctuated by an altogether too-short visit with my friends and family in Arusha, as well as other Nairobi adventures including an international rugby tournament with friends, more club hopping, and shopping with Joshua’s sister who expertly maneuvers the array of second-hand clothing markets, my time volunteering at Suvia is now coming to a close. I’m happy to say that I feel like I’ve made the best of the situation in the gardens given my unexpected need to care for my back, and am pleased that we accomplished as much as we did in spite of that. We already have enjoyed eating some of the nightshade, and the tomato plants are covered in blossoms. Yesterday I counted about 10 cucumbers, some of which are already getting huge, and I saw 2 baby watermelons on the vine. The collards and cabbages are getting bigger and looking healthy, as are the onions, and the eggplants are still small but looking healthy as well. I’m so excited that we’ve been able to accomplish this much during my stay here.
Tomorrow I will move out of my homestay here in the village and into a new homestay in Machakos. Through a meeting that Joshua had arranged for me, I had met with the District Environmental Officer at the National Environmental Management Authority of Kenya (NEMA), and they offered me an internship at the district offices there in Machakos. Although it is unpaid work, it seems to be exactly what I am interested in gaining experience in, so I’ve been really excited about the opportunity! Joshua’s parents have been so kind as to offer to host me while I work there, so I am currently working on obtaining my work permit to begin as soon as possible! It’s hard for me to tell how long the work permit will take to process, so I’m keeping my fingers crossed that it goes through quickly.
Before I close I want to mention that many people from home have approached me through Facebook or email, interested in travelling abroad or getting involved with volunteer projects similar to what I’ve done. I just want to say that if you are interested in doing something like what I am doing, I would be the first person to encourage you to do it—and to tell you that YES you CAN do it. Please feel free to contact me if you’d like any kind of advice or insight as to going about it, I’d be happy to help however I can.
With lots of love, I will write again in a few weeks to get you back up to date on my adventures. Peace and love to all my homies.
