Nyama Choma

Kenyan restaurants usually serve nyoma choma which means cooked animal and that is exactly what it is. They will bring a leg of lamb, goat or cow right to your table and cut it into little pieces and you eat it with your hands and dip it into salt.

(Our server cuts Choma for us at our table)

They also serve the basic kenyan dishes that I wrote about in Everything and Hot Sauce. Choma is actually really good (and after spending months at Daraja only eating meat once a week it is sometimes VERY good). The problem with choma is that the Kenyan restaurants have a series of mzungu scams. I am pretty sure that most of them have been tried on me, often successfully.

The first time I went for choma was the first day we were in Kenya. We were in a large group and the waiter went and pushed two tables together for us and talked to the bartender and ordered our drinks for us. Upon ordering our food the waiter said that for such a large order they needed to get half of the money up front. Fortunately I was not one of the decision makers on this journey and we insisted on talking to the manager. We soon found out that our “waiter” didn't even work in the restaurant as he ran out the front door.

As we found out the next time we went (to a different restaurant) scams aren’t just limited to people who don’t work in the restaurant. We went into a well known restaurant in Nanyuki and we were greeted by the manager who sat us down at a nice table and began to make suggestions. We admittedly did not know what to order so we were happy taking his suggestions. To the table he brought the biggest leg of choma I had ever seen and 10 side dishes for 3 people. Way too much food for us, but not blatantly dishonest.

When the bill came I was a little surprised. It was around $25, which for a night out in the states is nothing, but for a meal for three at a local Kenyan restaurant is pretty outrageous. I started to feel a little ashamed for letting him order us so much food and then I looked at the bill and realized that the prices were twice as much as what was advertised. We called the manager over and asked him about this. “Those are the correct prices” he says as he reviewed the bill.

“But here (on the bill) it says pilau costs 120 shillings, and there on the wall it says 60 shillings,” my girlfriend pointed out.

“Oh yes,” said the manager, “those are the OLD prices.”

I looked at him incredulously and said “I see, you have the wrong prices posted on the wall of your restaurant. Perfectly clear.”

“Let me see that” he said as he quickly snatched the bill from my hand and ran into the back with it.

Later he came out with a reduced bill costing $10 less than the previous. We paid and got out of there but we were pretty unhappy.

The last time we went to Choma we were veterans in Kenya so we knew what to expect. Before we ordered I asked the server how much each dish cost and wisely compared it to the menu. We ordered one KG of choma. As it arrived at the table we were very pleased to find that it was quite large. Later when we got the bill we found out that they had charged us for 4 KGs. When the manager came out he explained that he had seen how many people we had so he had decided to order extra choma for us. He had ordered us 2 KGs.

“We were charged for FOUR” I said shaking my head.

“I know,” he said, “that was a mistake by your server. But you do have to pay for two.”

“If you had given extra choma to that table that they hadn’t ordered,” I said, pointing to a table with a Kenyan family “would you have made them pay for it?”

“Of course not,” he replied, “but you need to pay your bill.”

Such is the life of a Mzungu in Kenya. It’s a good thing it was tasty.

Fainting: A Kenyan Pastime

I have a lot of experience with young people. I have in fact lived most of my life being one of them and consorting almost exclusively with them. I went through elementary school, middle school, high school, University and years working with kids as a camp counselor. Never once had I seen someone faint.

I have seen people faint in movies, and every time I dutifully suspended my disbelief, the whole time knowing that it doesn’t happen in real life.

Very soon upon my arrival in Kenya I was made aware of the fact that fainting is actually a Kenyan pastime. After playing a particularly heated football (soccer) game against another school one of the girls on the opposite team abruptly fell down onto the ground and did not move. Her teammates rushed to her side and carried her off of the field. She soon returned to consciousness and stood up and walked away. As an isolated incident this was surprising to me but no big deal.

The Daraja girls have recently been conditioning for long distance runs by running around the outside fence of our campus with staff members. One evening a girl had ran around the perimeter and sat down for a nap. Twenty minutes later her friends tried to wake her up but to no avail. Twenty minutes after that someone came and got me, distressed that she had still not woken up. I arrived at the scene to find her surrounded by her classmates holding up her legs and fanning her.

My first Aid training did not cover fainting, but I thought that maybe that was what you used smelling salts for. I didn’t know, I just knew that whatever had been done wasn’t working. The fact that everyone seemed so worried got me worried. She was breathing and had a pulse so I felt like it would probably be okay. I tried to calm everyone down and have them give her space.

Then she opened her eyes. But not in a good way. He eyes were glazed over and rolled into the back of her head. She wouldn’t respond to hands in front of her face. I felt her pulse again and I wasn’t sure if I could find it. I asked a teacher and she wasn’t sure either. Lets get her to a doctor I said. I pretty much had to insist, but I figured it is better to be safe than sorry.

We started speeding to the hospital over the terrible roads (previously mentioned). About two thirds of the way there (after an hour of being unconscious) she started responding. We took her to the doctor anyway who insisted that she get a blood test to make sure it was nothing serious.

It wasn’t anything serious. The biggest repercussion of the episode was that the entire Kenyan staff of Daraja made fun of me for days for insisting on taking a fainted girl to the hospital (even though it was admitted that 60 minutes is a long time to be unconscious). Since then we have had the regional athletic events. At the end of virtually every track event girls would drop like flies (pictured). Now I don’t pay any attention to it. It is just another aspect of the Kenyan landscape.

Alfred Part II: The Department of Social Welfare

Martin and I decided we should try to get Alfred into school but we were being cautioned by many people not to be scammed by the street kids. One of the teachers at Daraja had a close friend in the social welfare department named Mr. Hezron, and he advised us to talk to him about the boy so maybe he could shed some light on his story.

Martin and I took Alfred to the office of Mr. Hezron and Alfred waited outside. “I appreciate your interest in this matter, but I must caution you that most of these street boys are addicted to being handed money and do not want to work hard. Most of the boys that go back to school end up running away.” Mr. Hezron started “I will have someone of my department look into this but please don’t be encouraged.”

By this time we had grown pretty close to Alfred and though we had considered it, the idea that he might be scamming us was a hard one to swallow. I told Mr. Hezron that Alfred was outside and would like to speak to him. Alfred came in the office, and though he was obviously intimidated by the older serious man he answered his questions in Swahili. I found encouragement in the fact that Alfred was willing to be there answering questions. I was not encouraged by his inability to look Mr. Hezron in the eye however.

After speaking with him for some time Mr. Hezron looked at us and said “It seems likely that this boy is a candidate for help, I will have someone do the case study and you can pick it up in two days time.”

We left somewhat bolstered by the meeting. I was sure that if Alfred had just been looking for a handout that he would have balked at talking to the skeptical Mr. Hezron.

To Be Continued…

My Typical Day

I realized that I have talked a lot about my impressions of Kenya but I failed to really describe what I do on a daily basis.

I wake up between 7:15 and 8am in the fabulous rondoval that I live in. On Mondays and Fridays there is a flag ceremony where the girls put up the flag, sing the national anthem and other songs, and do some prayers before class starts.

The Rondoval I call home

I usually attend that and then eat breakfast. Breakfast is a kind of porridge called Uji that tastes a little bit like liquid sugar mixed with dirt (that is not an insult, I am trying to be descriptive). Usually there is something else with it like fruit (a green orange or a banana), a pancake, or a mandazi (a deep fried bread thing like a doughnut but without the sugar) and sometimes a hard boiled egg.

My duties at the school are to help with whatever they want. Sometimes that means working in the garden pulling weeds, cleaning out storage, finding the girls who need new shoes, getting the dorms ready for the new girls. I am also the unofficial videographer. Mostly however, in the morning, I have time to work on my projects that I will explain later.

Lunch is at 12:20 and it is usually Gatheri which is a combination of maize (like corn just bigger and harder), potatoes, beans, sweet potatoes mixed together. Sometimes we get beans and rice. Other times the dreaded Ugali with cabbage or kale (like spinach).

One of my biggest projects is that I implemented Salesforce.com for use as a donor database for the foundation while I was still in the United States. I act as an administrator for the system so sometimes I have to change settings or add users or compile an email list for a mailing. Recently we have implemented Vertical Response as an email marketing system for our newsletter and event information. I also work with the other volunteers who are heading up the online marketing campaigns (Become a fan of Daraja Academy on Facebook to see what we are doing). Most of this work must be done off campus because it requires the internet but sometimes I brave the terrible cellular modem.

I am partially in charge of special evening activities for the girls. We have put on a bonfire, a talent show, a birthday party, improv games, a dancing night and a few movie nights.

I head up the Drama and Music Club with teacher Catherine. We meet on Mondays and we work with the girls on the performing arts. Right now we are working on a spoken word piece for the Kenya Music Festival. The girls are amazing at acting and singing. Other clubs that the girls can choose from are: The Grassroots Girls (helping them get in touch with grassroots organizations in the area so they can help empower women), The Media Club (teaching girls about journalism and multimedia including cameras, video cameras, facebook, twitter and email newsletters), the Art and Crafts club (working on visual art such as painting, drawing, bead working and sculpture), the Environmental Club (teaching about nature and ways to reverse the affects of pollution), and the Science Club (a place where nerds can get together and scheme for world domination).

In addition I have been supervising the P.E. program. The new volunteers that come in often teach P.E. and I have been trying to provide some continuity with the programs ie. making sure there is someone to supervise each activity and give them a grade at the end of the term. We have been playing football (read: soccer), volleyball, netball, cricket, rounders and cross country running amongst other things.

At around 530pm almost everyday I turn my eyes to the sky and watch the beautiful Kenyan sunset. The African sky is more beautiful than anything I have seen in my life. I don’t know if it is because of the altitude (we are around 6 thousand feet) or if it is a result of being on the equator or some other factor (atmospheric science majors, here is your chance to chime in and do some good for the world). The sky is full of a million clouds that are all perfectly defined against the backdrop of unbelievably blue sky. Furthermore the clouds seem so close, its like you can see every slight crevasse, it is almost possible to reach up and touch them. The sky also appears to extend far beyond where a “normal” sky would go. It seems to me that there is a full 180’ of sky and that I have only been used to 100’. I know this is not logical, but it is magical. The sunset exists not only in the West but it begins at three places in the sky, eventually echoing across the heavens in their entirety.

Dinner is at six o'clock so I have 30 minutes to eat before computer class. When I came to Kenya I brought a couple of donated laptop computers with me (thank you Dad, Skip and Tom for all your help in making that happen). The goal was to set up a computer lab for the girls. I have rounded up 5 working laptops and about a month and a half ago I started teaching the girls basic computing skills every weekday for about an hour. It is amazing to see how enthusiastic the girls are. Most of them have never used a computer so when they click a button with the mouse and something happens there is a collective gasp of “wow” from all the girls. When school resumes at the end of April I plan on teaching a computer class to the staff on weekends.

The electricity goes on at 6pm and stays on until 10 pm. Two days a week I tutor one of the girls in English. She has such a strong desire to learn and never makes the same mistake twice.

If I have waited this long to shower usually I will put it off until the next day. We are extremely lucky in that we have running water. It has taken some getting used to however because the solar panel that heats our shower water leaves much warmth to be desired. After sundown it is almost impossible to bear the inevitably cold showers. The water is also pumped from the river into a holding tank. When it comes out of the faucet it appears brown and I always find myself wondering how getting under it will possibly make me more clean. These are really trifling annoyances compared with the bliss that life in Africa has provided for me.

Does this look like the face of a future lawyer?

Meet Alfred Maina Njuguna, 15 years old, he is one of the many street kids in Nanyuki. He is part of Frank Bruno’s gang. He lives with his father in Liki village, one of the worst slums in Nanyuki. His mother is still alive but is no longer in the picture. She lives in a far away town with the rest of Alfred’s 4 siblings. Up until last year Alfred was a typical liki schoolboy. Broke and living in a little shack with no electricity, no water, and sharing a twin bed with his dad, but still a schoolboy.

About a year ago his father was doing a job as a day laborer and was riding in a truck with his employer. A car came and hit them seriously damaging his back. His father was now for the most part unable to do physical labor which is how they had survived previously. Alfred and his father started having to skip meals. At first they would skip lunch and then eventually dinner. Alfred would get home from school and there would be no food at home. He started leaving school to find something to eat.

He found that in the street he was usually able to find enough food or money to feed both himself and his father. They rely on well wishers to pay their rent every month which is 400 shillings (about $5.75).

He told me he wanted to go to school…but all the street boys say that. He told me he wanted money for a uniform…also a pretty common scam. We asked him some trivia questions: What is Barak Obama’s middle name? “Hussein” he said. Impressive, but Barak is a big deal over here since his father is Kenyan. Other trivia questions proved to me that this kid was not only charming but also pretty smart. He deserves to go to school if he wants to. A fellow volunteer Martin and myself decided to see what we could do about this. We will have to be careful to make sure he honestly wants to go to school.

To Be Continued…

Street Kids

Nanyuki is like any fairly large city in that it has a population of street people. The difference between the street people of Nanyuki and most American cities is that in Nanyuki most of the street people are kids. There are 48 documented street kids in Nanyuki. Most of them are not homeless in the strictest sense of the word because they have a structure which they call home. If this structure were in the United States however it would be condemned and or the person who lived in it would still be considered homeless.

The kids range in age from 5 to 25 and they are a constant fixture on the streets of Nanyuki. There job is essentially asking Wazungu (foreigners) for money. Since it only takes 20 shillings (30 cents) to by them a meal for the day most of them are easily fed and even end up with a little pocket change to bring home to their often destitute parents. Oftentimes after they are fed they go to a “movie theater” to watch a movie for 5 shillings the movie theaters are little rooms made out of sheet metal and cardboard that have a small TV in them. The best part is that they sometimes hire people to interpret the movie into Swahili while it is playing. I am told that they can also spend 20 shillings playing playstation but I have yet to see it. Sometimes however they are unlucky and end up with no food for the day. As the day goes on they get more desperate for food and therefore more persistent.

Many of the young street kids and almost all of those older than 16 are heavy drug abusers. The drug of choice is huffing glue or petroleum products. The glue is usually put in a small plastic bottle and hidden (sometimes not hidden) in their sleeves or pockets. The huffers are notorious for not being able to control themselves even if they arent high. I have seen kids who appeared to be five years old with glue bottles in their mouth. I was particularly disturbed by two sisters both younger than ten completely out of their mind on glue.

(Two street boys display their glue bottles. The boys told me they are nine years old and have been huffing glue since they were five)

These are desperate kids and if they can’t find glue sometimes they resort to defecating in a bottle and burying it until it ferments. They then retrieve it and inhale the resulting vapors. Like I said…they are desperate.

There is also a group of kids who are poor but they aren't permanent street kids. They are usually kicked out of school maybe twice a year because they don’t have a proper uniform. Usually their clothes become so faded that the school colors are unrecognizable, or their shoes cease to hold their feet in them. These kids usually appear on the street for a few weeks or a month at a time. Their parents work a little harder and save up for the article of clothing and the kids disappear from the street.

Most of the young kids want to go back to school. Many of them don’t do glue…yet. But they will. I am told by the old kids that it is too hard to ask people for money each day. It is embarrassing. It is easier to inhale the fumes and lose your consciousness, even if little by little it takes your humanity with it. I am worried about these young kids who are so sweet and innocent. Kids whose only crime is that their parents don’t have money and only role models are drugged up wild men who barely have brains left in their heads.

I need to do something about this.

Anything and Hot Sauce

If there is anything I miss about the United States it would be the food. The girls at the school subsist on a diet consisting of a base like rice, noodles or ugali. Topped with beans, lentils, maize, cabbage, spinach or potatoes.

The cooks here do a fine job, and actually all of the dishes taste pretty good. The first week I was very happy with each meal. The issue for me is the repetition: the same things are cooked every day and night of the week. There are maybe 4 different meals that are alternated for fourteen meals of lunch and dinner in a week. All of which I take with a large portion of Hot Sauce, in some cases to add to the flavor, in other cases to wash it down while avoiding the flavor.

The biggest personal offender to me is Ugali. It is simply a cooked-up, edible version of flour. It is the consistency of play-doh, odorless, tasteless, and somehow still manages to completely disgust me. It is one of the staples of life here in Kenya and many people eat it for every meal. Thursday and Friday nights are Ugali nights and anyone who is capable of avoiding these meals usually does.

The major factor in my Kenyan diet that I find noticeably lacking is MEAT. We get meat once a week and it is usually goat meat mixed with rice. It is actually pretty tasty if one does not mind picking the bones out of the rice yourself. The one day we had chicken I think you could almost literally find every part of the chicken mixed into the rice, as it turns out a rather small percentage of the chicken is actually meat.

At issue here is a basic cultural difference. In Kenya eating is not for fun, it is for survival. The people who get ugali everyday are among the lucky ones. I dont know anyone from the states who goes to the grocery store and buys themselves a bag of flour as the main component of their meal. In America I eat things that I think taste good, otherwise I don’t eat. I have become addicted to fatty, fried, artificial flavors that are probably terrible for me. I mean really addicted…to the point where I am going through withdrawals. I sat in bed last night imagining Fajitas from Pancho Villa’s in Fairfax, burritos from the gourmet burrito place in LaFayette, Sushi from Tengu in Westwood, Tacos from Jack In The Box, Any Chinese food.

I have cravings for things I have never thought about in my life. Last week there was a day or two when all I could think about was an Orange Julius. I dont really know what an orange Julius is but I imagine it to be an ice cold frothy orange beverage. Actually I still really want one.

I honestly think that if the homeless shelters in the states served ugali no one would show up.
(pictures soon to come)