Another Beautiful Day in Kenya

OK, so I've been complete rubbish at the blog business. I had grand plans of updating people from home about my everyday comings and goings... but oh well. My excuse is that internet connection is not the most reliable. Pole sana (Pole-ay sana, I'm sorry in Kiswahili). I've traveled a lot since my last post-- 5 hours West to Nyahururu in the Rift Valley, many trips back and forth to Nairobi (where Dr. K's second home is), and a long trek (think LA to San Francisco in a car) to the Kenyan coast for a short holiday. I've visited orphanges and schools, attended a few conferences, and been hassled by beach boys selling wares. I now know enough Swahili to get around public transport (crazy matatus) and impress Kenyans along the way. And my tan is, well, becoming permanent. I've only seen rain like four times since I got here in November, which is good for people who can't get enough of this perfect weather (me) but bad for the farmers whose crops are brown and decrepit looking. Actually there are millions of Kenyans facing starvation. Reading about famine in the Horn of Africa for many years and then seeing it first hand is really hard. You would think you would feel less helpless living just an hour from people who are truly starving, but when you come to learn of the complexities on the ground here-poor infrastructure (lack of proper roads and water supply), lack of modern agricultural technology, and corruption (which it all boils down to in the end)-you feel just as helpless and much more frustrated. How can so many be starving in a land of plenty? I shake my head at things that I just don't understand daily. And just when I think I've become immune to the poverty and all of its devastating implications around me, something will shake me to the core and remind me where I am. For example, mob justice is alive and strong here. If someone steals a cell phone, perfectly respectable looking people will turn into an angry mob, form a circle around the thief, and beat him to near death or death until the police show up and take the thief/victim away... while a television camera is filming the whole incident. When I see this on TV I'm visibly horrified but then I look around the room and people are laughing or shrugging. I know why this mob justice system thrives; there isn't a large enough police presence and the legal system is corrupt and often ineffective. People need to punished somehow. And to be fair, most of my Kenyan friends that I've talked to about this don't like it but they respond with "This is Kenya. That's just the way it is." But just because something is the way it is, it doesn't mean it has to be that way... right? I try not to impose my "Western" attitudes and way of thinking on situations here at the risk of being/sounding/appearing ignorant or condescending, but sometimes I can't help it. The big, ever-present question is what can I, as one person, actually do to enact the changes I want to see here? It might be the oldest dilemma ever in existence for the practical dreamer. Change can happen with one step, one act of kindness, one person at a time... and from the work I've done so far with IPI, there is true meaning to this mantra.

At the risk of this post being all doom-and-gloom, I'll switch course and end on a positive note. Yes, the magnitude of the problems here are so great and it can be completely overwhelming at times. But there are wonderful, beautiful things here in Kenya and most of my days and experiences here are indeed wonderful and beautiful. The people I live and work with here are so hospitable and helpful. I can't say enough about them. They truly value me being here and make every effort to make me as comfortable as possible. I'm not sure that I deserve such attention, but I'm certainly not about to argue! Kenyans are so honest, which can be both endearing and frustrating (if I'm trying to be ironic/sarcastic). I eat fresh food everyday-- mangos, bananas, passion fruit, spinach, carrots, arrowroot, beans. My body likes this. And the scenery continues to amaze me. On our way to Mombasa (on the coast) I caught a glimpse of Mt. Kilimanjaro, hundreds of kilometers south in Tanzania. It was a bit hazy in the distance, but it is so huge and its signature snow-capped plateau/peak so breathtaking that my eyes remained strained until I could no longer hold my head sideways. Makes me think that on my next trip to Kenya (and yes, I will be coming back here many times I think) I will get closer to Kili (Mt. Kilimanjaro). I floated in my third ocean recently on this same trip to the coast. The Atlantic, Pacific, and now the Indian Ocean have played host to Emily Morris. Pretty cool, huh?

Well, I'm tired of typing on this lazy Sunday and should probably get some lunch. There really is so much more I'd like to share, but maybe that's for the memoirs I hope to write someday. Can't reveal it all at once! As some of you know, I was supposed to leave Kenya on March 11th but have extended my stay until April 14th. I'm not done with this place and it's not done with me. We're still learning from each other. Kwa heri for now!

xox Em

P.S. New pics from Mombasa, Watamu, Malindi, and Kilifi (the coast) are on my Picasa site.