Siobhan in Kenya

2006-06-27T15:39:00.000+03:00

Welcome once again! These past few weeks have had a quite a few highlights. Every time I think I’ll send this email I remember something I should include! One of the highlights has been the sewing machines. I have known about the existence of sewing machines in this center for quite some time but only recently did I discover which store they were in. As part of my spring cleaning drive (I’m fed up of spiders) I’ve decided to tidy up all the stores and when I got round to the mysteriously marked ‘Utility Store’ I came across 7 very dusty sewing machines and 3 bags full of buttons. I was beginning to get quite het up about this terrible waste of resources when a lady turned up to replace all the broken parts and give things a good oil! One of them will hopefully be going to CCM, which will be a godsend for the girls doing tailoring courses.

Another hightlight arrived a few days ago at night, in two very loud and very large lorries. At first we thought the mango trees had arrived, then we thought it was some more supplies for the building work. Various other theories were put forward but in my opinion Kevin came up with the best one – that is that a gang of armed bandits had come to steal all the cows. In actual fact they were the guys who are now digging a borehole. Extreme noise seems to be a prominent feature of their stay - not only do their lorries sound like 3 herds of elephants but the drill thing to dig the hole is also deafeningly loud. Should be good when it’s finished though. It’ll be a lot cheaper for this place. Especially now the new Budget has been read and natural water is zero rated - whatever that means.

On a more serious note, one of the lads here has caused quite a bit of worry recently by running away. It seems there were some problems with secondary school he’s attending (or was), the upshot being that he was sent home. After a few days here he decided to disappear and stayed away until the end of last week. Thankfully he decided to return but the air is full of ‘issues’ at the moment.

Otherwise, the rest of my life is overly full of sport. First we had the school athletics then we landed straight into the World Cup. Alas! I missed the most entertaining day of athletics because I didn’t feel like having 101 people staring at me. Apparently one of the young and trendy teachers decided to team up with one of the not so young and trendy teachers and do the relay. The kids couldn’t decide if Miss Nabea flying down the track, with hair streaming out behind her was more entertaining than the other teacher trying to fly down the track and, well, failing. As far as our lot were concerned Mwiti and Mugambi were the stars. Mwiti, in particular, can finish before the others have left the starting line.

We have now moved onto football, football and (you guessed it) football. Not only do we have the World Cup on the TV from 4pm every day but we also have the secondary school footie matches on the field behind us. If I ever fancy a change from football I have to walk around with my eyes closed and my discman on full blast. Why can’t they have knitting competitions? Or at least a range of different sports. It doesn’t help when people keep asking me if I think England will win. How should I know?! I haven’t got a clue how good our own team is, let alone the people they’re playing against!

2006-05-24T14:55:00.000+03:00

It’s been a bit humdrum these past couple of weeks. Well it was until Monday, when everything started getting a bit dramatic. I think I’ve mentioned that there are currently some new buildings under construction on site. They are beautiful and white with very nice timber ceilings. There are even some stairs inside (not something you usually come across in this neck of the woods). Well, the Big Boss from Nairobi decided to visit, just to see that everything’s going smoothly. Unfortunately, things did not go at all smoothly and he ended up discovering that 3 of the guys here have been helping themselves to supplies! They have now been arrested and we are awaiting events with baited breath. Last month we also had a visit from an irate father who came to collect his runaway son who’d nicked off with the school fees. Those builders certainly stop life becoming boring! Maybe I could put the book on hold so I can write a comic drama/ soap opera based on these real life events!?

The building work also means our running water is extremely erratic so I’m getting into the swing of carrying buckets of water around the place (although not too much cos most of it ends up on the ground).

Now for a proper paragraph on food. As I recall the food feature played an important role in my emails last year and I’d like to introduce it once again. I’m sorry to say that cabbages have taken a back seat due to the fact that my stomach is now accustomed to eating it at least once a day. Goats, on the other hand, are still incredibly significant. Mainly because I always walk into them when they’re hanging in the store. On Tuesday I got the shock of my life when I thought I was reaching for a plate and instead my hand came across the bloody rid cage of a former flower terrorist. The staff decided to kill one of the goats because nobody can be bothered to feed them so they might as well feed us! So, the flowers are safe once again and I’m learning 101 ways to prepare a goat, even the parts I thought you couldn’t eat. I’m not sure why but it seems that everything has to involve garlic. Good job there’s no vampires around.

We are also mourning the loss of porridge in the early morning routine. Due to rising prices in maize flour it has temporarily been taken off the menu. This smells because now I’m forced to drink tea or else put up with 3000 questions about why I’m not. Eggs, however, have made a comeback and are once again making Sunday morning a bright, happy and fun filled moment in the week.

And with that I bid you goodbye
Siobhan

2006-05-12T14:14:00.000+03:00

I’ve finally finished the second round of swimming trips! The sense of release is almost overpowering! Actually, that’s a lie. I’m getting into the swing of being a bossy sod and organizing 32 kids and adolescents so this time things went relatively smoothly. They have finally drummed into me the fact that girls and boys don’t swim together. Also, small boys and big boys don’t swim together. Also, parents and children don’t swim together. I’m beginning to wonder why they enjoy going swimming at all. Apparently it’s a Meru thing. The lifeguard at the swimming pool was explaining to me (in a painstaking manner) how it’s ok to swim with any random person you meet there but if you live with them you might as well go home. I’m finding it hard to get my head round, seeing as the girls swim practically fully dressed and seeing a guy in shorts isn’t unusual. However, I managed to sort out groups where everyone was happyish, the sun shone, etc etc and all went well.

This treat was in honour of the Easter holidays, which might as well not exist. It seems as though when school is supposed to be going they spend half the time out of class practicing for games or drama or music etc. But when it's the holidays everyone starts working hard having extra tuition. Eh? Perhaps they should swap the names of term time and holiday. Things might make a bit more sense then.

May Day (or Labour Day, as it is here) was spent in cutting grass. Is it me or does the whole world start doing spring cleaning type jobs on May bank holiday? One of the down sides to rain is that everything grows, not just your crops. So the air was filled with the sweet aroma of freshly cut grass and the singing of slashers swinging through the air. Apparently slashing grass is really fun work, so Maureen tells me anyway. Despite high toe fatalities and blister acquisition she still likes it. Personally I think it's because it's a great way to release stress. Just imagine your worst enemy is a clump of grass then swing a sharp piece of metal at it at high speed. Sorted.

On a more national scale things aren't so benign. We seem to be going through a series of disasters recently. A few weeks back there was a plane crash in Marsabit. I can never quite figure out what's going on but Marsabit has not been too peaceful lately and a load of people were flying out for talks. So when most of them died some people were gutted and others said they got what the deserved. Then there was a gas cylinder explosion in a block of flats the other day. Rajab then chose the day after to leave the gas on without lighting it. His timing could not have been better (or worse). Then, what with the measles outbreak, the news has suddenly become rather depressing instead of the light hearted entertainment that it used to be. I’m just waiting for the day when we have another story about an American marrying a dolphin or beer drinking cows in Makutano. Then I’ll know the country’s back to normal.

I might not have had news of any cows drinking beer but they have been playing football. I went to CCM and for once I was not asked to be goalie. This is because there was a rather large cow grazing in between the goal posts, who actually made a pretty good goal keeper. Well, she did until she’d finished all the grass – then she abandoned her team mates for greener pastures.

I’ve had another ‘experience’ recently, of going to a wedding. The kids here were asked to sing for a local couple that got married the other weekend and I decided to tag along. The service was pretty much like Britain (except in Kimeru) but there were a few differences such as: the number of bridesmaids (12! A little excessive methinks); a (live) sheep among the pressies (bit disappointed there was no goat); and the traditional Kimeru dance. Imagine very, very old women in large floral print clothes with enormous headgear. Now imagine side step, double clap, side step, double clap etc. Finally add in some kind of song that is written on 3 notes with 5 words. There you have it!

I’ve also had a brief visit to Nairobi to sort out my plane ticket home. So guys, I’ll be back again around the 21st August so long as someone cancels a ticket. The joys of traveling peak season! If not, you might not see me till sometime in 2219.
Siobhan

2006-04-21T10:57:00.000+03:00

This week I come to the end of telling you all about the kids I live with. Now I’ll have to think of something else to fill the space. Eek!

Room 4 has 12 (yes 12!) boys, well, teenagers. Lewis Murithi is our resident fish, one of the few Kenyans I’ve met who isn’t scared of water above his ankles and can actually swim more than 5m. Patrick Gituma is noteworthy for his odd eating habits, namely eating vocab for breakfast. Suppose it’s a better excuse than, ‘the dog ate it’. Mark Mwenda is scarily clever (he got the highest marks in his school) and also likes pink and playing footie. Patrick Riungu is fond of doing rabbit impressions and, in fact, any other type of drama. At the moment he’s in Mombasa taking part in a national school drama festival. Douglas Koome is my self appointed body guard (which is both sweet and useful) and the best bass in the place. He has also become my maths student. It’s quite nice to know I haven’t forgotten everything. David Mugambi and I keep each other entertained with an ongoing saga of adventures from the moon. It has now become so involved and confusing that half the time I can’t remember why something is funny. Felix Kinyua likes collecting stamps and thinks it’s great to have someone around who gets letters from exotic places like Germany! Jeremiah Mwiti (David’s bro) is a goalie extraordinaire. John Kaberia has apparently been an English teacher in over 17 countries. John Karani is like a dancing Dicken – all the animals love him and he can move. Patrick Kairemia loves to laugh (though I’m never sure if it’s at me or with me) and Chris Maore hardly ever wears his own clothes because he thinks he looks better if they belong to someone else.

The school games have finally come to an end and hopefully I will never have to resume my role as pretend footie Mum. The boys were out at provincial level, that’s one level above the girls who only made it to the districts. It would have been better if I could have taken my knitting but in Meru a white girl who knows a skill like that is 1000 times more noteworthy than a white girl watching football. The later is just interesting, the former is a tourist attraction and I would have been mobbed.

It’s the Easter holidays! Which means there’s a lot of kids complaining they’re bored and absolute mayhem most of the time. I’ve just come from making sand and glue pictures so I’ll probably end up with red sand in between the keys. That’s this week’s excuse for bad typing. I’m beginning to wish I’d paid more attention in art lessons then I might be able to come up with some more ideas. Any suggestions? If it involves toilet roll tubes, newspaper, pipe cleaners and felt tips then I can do it. I’d also be really grateful to anyone who can tell me different games to play with a frisbee. We have about 15 but no one knows how to play with them!

Easter day was rather low key, as in nothing happened! I kind of missed eggs for breakfast, chocolate eggs the rest of the day. It seems unusual to me that Christian festivals aren’t more, well, festive here because it’s much more overtly Christian the rest of the time. Christmas fizzled by and no one noticed it was coming until 24th, then the same thing happened with Easter. On Good Friday I decided it was time to do something eastery so I made pancakes. As I didn’t eat any before Lent I felt justified in eating them at the end instead! Then we made pop up Easter cards on Sunday. I never realized how valuble blue tac is until I came here. I’ve been compromising with sellotape, PVA and drawing pins but they just aren’t the same when you want to put pictures on a notice board.

God bless

Siobhan

2006-04-06T16:57:00.000+03:00

Doesn’t time fly? Since the last time I mailed I’ve aged a whole year. Amazing really. Only one more year of being a teen, suppose I better make the most of it and be as moody as possible and make a great many fashion disasters. The celebrations here were unforgettable (in a good way, I promise). Highlights included:
a) A bottle of bubbles I found under the wax crayons.
b) Several squillion balloons.
c) The Kenyan alternative to birthday beats, getting completely soaked with water.
d) A meal without goat or cabbage (score!) and a birthday cake that actually had a whole 19 candles.
e) Lots of dancing in which no one tried to get me to take part.

I was a bit gobsmacked to realize how much at home I feel here. When I come back home in August be prepared for me to feel homesick! Only downside is that I don’t think the last highlight is going to last very long. David has told me that he really, really wants to see me dance before I leave and I think he’ll wear me down after a few more weeks. Ah well, I suppose life would be no fun if nobody ever made a fool of themselves

Now for Room 3. This has 4 boys. James Gikundi is probably the person I know the best here and was very useful when I first came because I got an informal (and unintentional) briefing from him. He’s been very patient with my crazy British attitudes, not something you’d generally expect from a 15 yr old boy! When he’s not explaining what someone has just said to me, James is the one who comes up with half my nicknames. His younger brother Kevin Mwiti is an aspiring engineer and I’ve recently gained his eternal affection by giving him a broken phone to take to pieces. When he’s not building something he’s taking it apart and any other spare seconds he uses to look for sugar. I thought my Christmas Day chocolate breakfasts were bad enough but Kevin’s capacity to consume anything sweet is awe inspiring. The other 2 are their cousin Samuel Kimathi (the most sane member of the family) and Joel Mutembei who can do pretty impressive fine pencil drawings. All round their room is an enjoyable one to be in although I think they could do with a mute button on the door.

The big news this time though is that the rains have started! Everyone is very relieved and also very muddy. The bits of land that aren’t a lovely, vibrant green are a yucky, muddy red. It’s been predicted that there won’t be very much but some is definitely better than none. A few people have asked me if there’s anything they could do for MCH and several of the children have suggested that you share the rain with us (first of all Kevin asked for a snowball – no kidding). I’m not sure how the postal service would cope with it though, any suggestions on how to send rain? Besides, from what I’ve heard there isn’t that much to share around at the moment.

2006-03-22T17:43:00.000+03:00

Righto folks! Suppose I better get back onto my room descriptions. You may have forgotten but this is what I was doing before the phone went dodo. This week it’s time for Room 2. This is the only room that has a proper mix of boys and girls as there’s 4 of each. Catherine Kinya and Purity Kathambi are cousins and behave like sisters apart from the fact that they don’t try to kill each other.Then there’s Sharon (can’t remember the other name, it’s Luo and even more unpronounceable than Kimeru) who enjoys gurning in the middle of meals in order to make everyone laugh and choke. Terry Kathambi is 9 and already has boys at school fighting over who holds her hand – she’s a bit of a stunner.

Three of the boys are small and then there’s Zachary Ntongai who is very quiet so unfortunately I don’t know him very well. Recently I’ve made a breakthrough though and he is willing to crush my hand whenever he greets me. He has also spoken two whole and consecutive sentences to me. Kenneth Mwenda is my particular friend despite the fact that he insists on saying nitakuvunja pua lako (I will break your nose) every time he sees me and I get a crick in my neck if I talk to him standing up (he’s short, not tall). Wycliffe Omondi fancies himself as the world’s strongest man even though he’s class 3 and Joseph Murithi has a talent for almost breaking his head (once because of his own clumsiness in a football game and once because some kind soul decided it would be nice to smash his head into a door handle, aren’t kids great?!). This tendency is deplored among the house mothers (Leah for R1 and Zipporah for R2) but I reckon everyone at school will think the scars are cool.

I’m starting to find general news a bit hard these days. Everything’s becoming too normal. Like a few weeks ago I did a jigsaw underneath a tree with a cow about 3 meters away and it didn’t feel at all unusual. I’ll do my humble best though.

Maureen has been sent home from school for a mysterious reason that may or may not be to do with a radio. What is most mysterious is that she was meant to come home on Saturday and didn’t turn up till Monday…

It’s the week of the roasted maize. Or, for that matter, boiled, fried, marinated, barbequed, grilled, steamed etc (guess the lies). Our crop is ripe and is being used up in a variety of ways including, thankfully, being processed at our posho mill and stored for future use.

I’ve been giving Patrick lessons on the proportions of the human body so he doesn’t draw a person with legs half the size of the head. It’s a rather weird experience for the least artistic member of my family but I suppose with an experience like this, it’s the skills you don’t think you’ll use that end up being the most useful.

I’ve had my first experience of a Kenyan doctor’s surgery. No, I’m not ill, but after spending 7 hours waiting with Kathambi and Fridah I almost was. I haven’t been that bored in ages. The worst thing was the lack of any queue or appointment system. It upset my ordered soul, as I had no way of figuring out how near to finished we were. You have to learn to just ‘be’ in that kind of situation otherwise you go bonkers.

Recently I’ve not had any additions to my name collection and I was starting to miss the confusing sensation of never knowing when someone was talking to me. However, the boys of rooms 3 and 4 have rescued me and these days I’m known as Can-you-help-me-with-a-needle. Which has a vaguely Native American ring, I think. I’m starting to really appreciate why my Granma says her middle name is where’s-me. And of course the ways people attempt to pronounce Siobhan never fail to keep me entertained.

Now for this week’s special feature, ‘the weird direct translations that never fail to confuse me’. Catchy title, huh?

Kimeru directly translated: Proper English

You are talking leaves: You are talking a lot of rubbish and don’t make any sense.

Stop planting on me: Desist in slandering my good name and tarnishing my reputation with evil rumours.

You’ve swallowed a panga: You’re getting your mords wuddled and, maybe, lisping

My God doesn’t eat ugali: This one’s a bit tricky but it’s my favourite. It’s something along the lines of sod’s law and quite similar to ‘Typical!’

2006-03-08T17:12:00.000+03:00

Phew! I bet you were all starting to worry that I was dead or something. Never fear, I’ve not been eaten by lions or fallen down a long drop, but the phone line was dead and going to an internet café seemed far too much like hard work. I’ve got a bit of a cushy placement, I admit it! Not only do we have the internet but I have 3 swings in my back yard. Anyway, to business!

Also if you’re in some far flung place and only read emails once every 4 months please feel free to tell me to stop cluttering your inbox. I promise I won’t be offended.

Just after my last update we had a visit from the infamous Bill and Joy. They run the Karibuni Trust, which supports various Kenyan projects working with children, of which MCH is one. Ever since I arrived people have been asking me if I knew them so it was good to finally meet them. They were doing their annual 5 week dash round Kenya making sure everything’s OK. It was very good to hear some English voices (even if they are southerners) and I quite enjoyed talking to someone who has known this place right from the beginning. If I ask the staff here questions I generally get the answer to something else which is still interesting but occasionally frustrating. They also brought their granddaughter, Ria, who’s spending her gap year deciding what she wants to do. I very much appreciated a conversation about uni applications and A Levels. It’s funny what you miss but UCAS was such a big part of my life and in Kenya I suddenly lost it, sniff.

Naomi’s come back from her time in Marsabit and then in Sudan and Jeana is also back from the coast so all of a sudden the British population of Kaaga has doubled. Naomi has been checking out a job in Sudan (also for FHI ) and has decided to take it. So about the time I’m going home to pizzas, ice cream and street lamps she’ll be going to a mud hut (literally apparently) where she fetches water from the river, has to sleep outside because inside the building it’s like an oven and has to come to Nairobi every six weeks just for the good of her health (it’s part of the job requirements). Everyone thinks she’s crazy (herself included) but this seems to be the way God’s leading her.

I’ve had another trip to Nairobi which was less frantic than December thankfully. So now I’m officially an alien! (As in proper resident but not citizen – not the little green men) However I’m unable to prove it as my purse was stolen two days after I picked up my card. Bloomin typical! I spent just under a week there with the Moffoots so I recovered my accent, got my hair cut and did lots of shopping for things like cheese, Hobnobs, and facial scrub. I even had a tuna sandwich and ate broccoli! Was almost like being in Britain.

Back at home I’ve taken on the mammoth task of sorting the book store. I’ve just about finished now but it’s taken over a week! Some of the children now hate for suggesting throwing away books that are completely broken and were never read even when they were new, which was about 60 years ago. For example:

Siobhan: Felix help me sort these books. I want to get rid of the old ones.

Felix: Akia Mungu! (Oh my God!) Sivon, you are really going to burn these books?!?! You can’t do that!

Ann Joy: What!?! You want to get rid of old, tatty, out of date books that are only being used as a nest for spiders? You heretic! How can you do something so terrible?

Made me laugh, as I saw my own reaction the time Mum got ‘scream-lined and efficient’ by ‘getting focused’ on the book boxes in our house. Seriously think I’m turning into my Mum – prayer required. I also started doing crafts and games with the kids after school so sorting out the store has been very useful. Now I actually know where to find crayons and I’ve got tons of stuff for junk modeling!

In between making a ludo board, sorting out science text books circa 1950 and flying kites I’ve been practicing my role as parent-spectator at the school games. This is like sports day times a million. Firstly, they play within school, then against other schools locally, then other divisions, then other districts, then other provinces, then nationally. If ever there was an incentive to lose this is it! The thought of having to do all those games makes me shudder. From MCH we’ve got 2 girls on the football team and the boys team is almost entirely made up of the boys here. This Tuesday they both trounced the other teams, which made me feel all proud and big sisterly. There’s also handball, volleyball and some other stuff going on but no athletics, that’ll be next term.

Going to The Games has been an interesting experience. I got quite stressed the first time round because every other child had to come and stare at me. The ones who didn’t stare came and poked, scratched, pushed, laughed etc. The longer I stay here the more annoying it gets, you’d think that in a relatively large town where people are used to white skin they would have learnt better manners - but apparently not. In addition I got very sunburnt due to sheer absentmindedness. All round, it wasn’t a very successful trip. However, the second time round was much more enjoyable. I changed my tactics and went on the offensive against snotty, giggling girls and irriating street boys. This does not mean I resorted to violence but I did shout at a few people, after that the rest of them got the idea and left me alone. I was then at liberty to observe all the hawkers round and about. In Britain, as I recall, you might get an ice cream van but certainly not ice lollies, cakes, weird fried potato things, biscuits, sweets, sausages and, of course, sugar cane in wheelbarrows. I’m going to miss wheelbarrows a lot. There’s something about them that I just like. The other day I even saw a bloke carrying a sofa on one, they’re so versatile it’s amazing really.

Anyway, enough for now.

God bless

Siobhan

2006-01-31T16:59:00.000+03:00

It occurred to me the other day that I only tell you about the un-every day type things that go on and perhaps I should tell you what goes on in an ordinary humdrum day. So here is a day in the life of Siobhan Shibli Mwendwa.

5.00am Wake up as Fredrick and Sammy (cooks) in adjacent room get up to do breakfast and make a lot of noise. Cry at the thought that it’s 2am in UK.

5.05 Go back to sleep

6.00 – 6.30 Actually wake up. Have a fight with mosquito net. Try to find the bottle of water under the bed. Get dressed, breakfast (porridge made from flour rather than oats) etc. Run away from anyone who wants to have a conversation.

7.00 All the kids are now at school so it’s time to clean! Are four house/rooms and generally I help out with Room 2 or 3. This includes cleaning floor with a rag as it’s much quicker than a mop (get a bucket of soapy water, put rag in, use rag to wipe floor. NB bending knees is only for sissies), cleaning the verandah, bit of path outside and bathroom not necessarily in that order.

Depending how dirty the kids have been 8.00 – 9.00 off to the kitchen to a) chop cabbage b) (if it’s Wed ) sort the rice for stones, evil insects or the like c) chop cabbage

10.00 Tea time! Tea means water and milk boiled together with tea leaves waved over the top, a ton of sugar poured in and stored in a thermos. If you don’t put it in a thermos it isn’t really proper tea. We also get bread. It takes at least 10 minutes to find a cup that doesn’t have a crack in the bottom. I think the kids were told about Greek plate smashing and got the wrong end of the stick.

Here is a strange time of day that I can never really account for so I can’t tell you what I do.

12.45 Kids home for lunch. Each day I take my meals in a different room just give life a bit of variety.

1.15 Kids back to school apart from some of the younger ones. Depending on how their teacher feels they sometimes have the afternoon off so either I will do arty things with them or play games, run away to read a book or, of course, write witty, entertaining and inspirational letters.

4.00 Kids start coming back from school so I usually spend an hour or so running after all the things I lent out the night before and forgot about like pencil sharpener, needle, my brain. Then it’s time to chill and be sociable.

6.30ish Supper time (something hot and cabbagey!)

7.00 It’s the highlight of the day! Life itself stops so that everyone can watch the news. Woe betide the imbecile who tries to interrupt. After this I spend the evening either helping (well trying to) with homework or just being there with my knitting, whatever the situation requires.

Bed time depends on how interesting those maths equations are.

As I’ve mentioned I change rooms every day. So you won’t be overwhelmed with information I’ll describe only Room 1 this time. This is quite a girly room, there’s only one boy, Rajab, and he spends half the time somewhere else, can’t say I blame him. The oldest is Ann Joy Kagwiria (so if you translate her name it’s Ann Joy Joy) along with Alice Karimi they are the only two girls who’ve been at the home since it started. Ann Constantly sings and is so good that no one minds the fact that half the time it’s Backstreet Boys. In fact Mugambi, Douglas and her did the backing vocals for their friend Kimathi when he did a recording. I’m going to get hold of a tape at some point - Christian reggae is certainly something. Karimi is best known as the dancer among the girls. Irene Awour is painfully shy around strangers but once you get to know her is the most forthright fashion critic I’ve ever come across. Her sister Maureen Atieno is in Form 2 or 3 at Kaaga Girls so I don’t know her that well. Then there’s Fridah Kendi who likes knitting and poking me with the needles. Ashu can plait hair at super human speed and that only leaves Maureen Mwendwa, the youngest child at the center. She’s around 7 or 8 and has a tough time concentrating at school. Her English is quite poor for her age (though by British standards in foreign languages she’s a genius) but despite this we manage to have conversations even if we don’t understand a word the other one is saying.

Siobhan

2006-01-18T12:59:00.000+03:00

This week I’m going to give you a flavour of Kenyan life (well Meru, I’m not so sure about the rest of the country) by describing some of those items indispensable for everyday life.

Buckets: The more the better, preferably in a range of sizes. Useful for washing clothes, cleaning the floor (with a rag), washing yourself when the shower doesn’t work (ie most of the time) etc etc. A bucket is so valuable that the kids hide them under the bed so they can have one when they get back from school. Also, there is an ongoing battle between Naomi’s house help, Rosemarie, and Erin over who actually owns a very snazzy red one, things have not become violent… yet.

A Panga: Like a machete. Used for ploughing, planting, harvesting, cutting the grass, chopping wood, hammering nails, dicing large pieces of goat, killing chickens, the list goes on. Kenyan children generally become proficient with a panga before they can walk (or almost). It’s not uncommon to see school kids running around casually waving it in the air as it’s there job to cut the grass at school. Usually people don’t chop off their toes but obviously accidents do happen.

Maize: I really want to put cabbage but actually it’d be a lie. The staple diet here is githeri which is maize and beans boiled together with other veg (like cabbage) and also ugali, maize flour mixed into boiling water and then left to ‘set’ (guess what – you eat it with cabbage!). So if you can’t get hold of any maize you’d be pretty scuppered. Living in Meru is a bit weird when it comes to food because there’s so much of it. This place is very wet (comparatively of course) and it’s easy to forget that in the North Easten Province people are experiencing terrible drought.

Next it’s onto some stuff the kids have been telling me about traditional Meru beliefs. I want to get it down before I forget.

When it rains never sleep on your back or you’ll be ‘eaten’ by the storm. My best guess is that this means struck by lightening.

Never wear red when it rains for the same reason.

If you call your mother’s name over the mouth of a cooking pot she will come straight away.

If girls/ young women eat standing up they will be married far away from home. I am surprised they don’t hide all the chairs at meals times as the ‘will you marry a Kenyan?’ routine has recently turned into the ‘which Kenyan will you marry?’ routine despite the fact that I’ve given them no reason to suppose that this is a sensible question.

On the ‘news’ front things have not become very much more quite here despite school reopening. Just today six of the children have been sent home for either not having book from last year or some part of their school uniform. Planning ahead is a bit of an alien concept (why do it today when it doesn’t have to be done until next week?) so the uniform shopping trip has yet to be executed.

A mission partner from Ireland has arrived. Her name is Helen and she’ll be working in the school for the deaf once the mission team from Oklahoma have finished building the library and gone back home (I really hate them as they came to MCH and gave the kids whistles – do they have no compassion?!) Andy Moffoot brought her upto Meru along with supplies of Hobnobs for me!

Until next time!

Siobhan

2006-01-04T16:20:00.000+03:00

Oh my goodness gracious me – can you really believe we’re in 2006?! The past two weeks have gone so quickly I can’t figure out where all the days have gone.

The very day after I last sent a newsletter I spent the day in Meru National Park. My very first safari! It wasn’t such a great introduction as there aren’t actually many animals there. It’s not popular for a reason! But it’s close enough for a day visit so I’m not complaining. I still had a really good time in spite of the lack of wildlife. I was with Naomi, her brother and his wife and her friend Paul. Our guide kept us all well entertained by blatantly making up “facts” about the animals we did see and referring heavily to the Collins book of animals! We were all sleep deprived as well (they just wanted to stay up late, I’d been having my hair braided), which always helps to up the amusement factor of any situation.

After getting back home there was no time for anything as sensible as sleeping as I was off to Kaaga Methodist carol service. The kids were doing the candle lighting (ie walking/dancing to Christmassy songs with lots of candles) so I was only allowed to miss it if I had a really good excuse, such as being dead. Unfortunately I’d seen the practices so many times I noticed all the mistakes! But they did really well and didn’t set anyone’s hair on fire, so I was impressed. By the end I was practically falling off the seat with exhaustion so it wasn’t the most enjoyable experience. Or maybe it’s just because I’ve been to so many carol services now I’m suffering from an overload of ‘Jingle Bells’ when it’s really hot.

By the time I’d caught up on all my sleep and could once again string together a sentence it was Christmas Day. Which meant going to church. Well, I thought it did but everyone else was less enthusiastic and Kathambi, Catherine and I spent a half hour waiting for anyone else to turn up, including the preacher! It was a bit strange being away from family for the first time but to be honest I didn’t notice for most of the day. These kids have become so much like my brothers and sisters it was like having Christmas with a bunch of friends. It was a strange day as not much seemed to happen. In Meru it feels as though the only way people can be bothered to celebrate Christmas is with carol services. There’s no big deal over anything like presents or cards like in the UK and the only tinsel in the home was bought by me. Sometimes the kids will get new clothes but apart from that the only way to distinguish it from the rest of the year is the food. We didn’t eat one single piece of cabbage, which I was very pleased about. There was chapatti, mukimo (that’s mash potato with green veggie things in), rice, carrots (which I peeled and chopped the day before – it was a big job keeping 32 kids from stealing them) and goat. I once again walked into the goat whilst it was hanging in the store. I think they should put a warning on the door. Or just give me a crash helmet so I don’t mind so much when I put my head into the middle of a goat carcass. I have never been so full and I almost cried when they brought round sweets and biscuits.

The rest of the week was spent in recovering from Christmas dinner and (for the boys) building hutches for the rabbits. We started with 4 and now have around 30 so it’s been all hands on deck to find spare bits of wood, corrugated iron and nails in order that they don’t get attacked by the dogs. The KCPE results also came (end of primary exams but more like equivalent to GCSE). Both our boys passed, Mark did very well but Patrick is finding it hard not to be disappointed. It’s especially tough as you have to wait for offers from a secondary school (no applications is not always a good thing!) and there’s a strict hierarchy of schools and marks.

For new year Naomi, me and 3 women from the Peace Core went off to Maralal to ride camels! Peace Core is run by the US government and sends volunteers to various places for 2 years. Erin lives in Meru but it was the first time I’d met Jen and Tarika. We had loads of fun even though none of us managed to stay awake for new year. Riding a camel is strange as it makes you so tall and when we finished I felt like I was walking like a cowboy. Our Samburu guides were great and they had names to match, there was Doctor (Who!) and Balance. It takes quite a personality for a man to be able to wear a pink and purple sheet around his waist and still look cool. Even our packed lunch was memorable. We were actually given cheese sandwiches. I never imagined that this would seem unusual but it really did. No one ever eats cheese in Kenya! Unfortunately not eating cabbage for 4 days did strange things to me and the last night wasn’t great as I was very ill. (Family take note, I am not allowed to have Granma Sunday lunch when I come back – it will make me sick).

Thankfully I managed the journey home without throwing up on anyone’s shoulder and am just about better now. We’re all gearing up for the kids to go back to school on Monday so it’s off with the hair extensions and nail varnish and the smell of shoe polish is permanently in the air. It’ll be strange when it’s all quite again!
Siobhan

2005-12-20T16:39:00.000+03:00

Well kids Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!! Ho ho ho etc etc. Many many Christmassy greetings to all of you.

I am still walking round in a bubble of self satisfaction and general pleased-ness after successfully sorting out my visa in a mere 2.5 hours on 9th. I made a flying visit to Nairobi in order to do this. I had my first experience of a matatu and unfortunately it’s unlikely to be my last. A matatu is a Nissan minibus and they are the main mode of transport all over Kenya (both short and long distance) if you aren’t rich enough to have your own Land Rover. They are notorious both for the frequency with which they break down and the delinquency of the drivers. Fun fun fun. The 4 hour journey there took about 5 – which was very good. Thankfully Naomi was also traveling down so I went with her. It was really weird when I got there, 3 months in Meru and I can’t cope with the sight of spaghetti strap tops and tarmac-ed roads. On Saturday morning I stocked up on Hobnobs (!) and came back. We were making very good time (no break downs, no passengers with BO problems and no live chickens!) until we reached Embu when the police decided they wanted the pleasure of our company for 2 hours. I spent a boring time waiting for them to realize that no one was desperate enough to give them a bribe before we continued home. I then stumbled out of the mat in town and prepared myself for the walk home when a random guy called Victor decided to walk me home. He obviously knew me but I still don’t have a clue who he is. It’s one of life’s great mysteries.

Two more random guys (who actually don’t know me) have both offered to buy me. Not sure if they were talking marriage or outright slavery. One seemed to think that the attraction of converting to Islam would be too much to withstand and the other just appealed to Mark’s materialistic side by offering him a million shillings. To his shame Mark gave in and agreed to the price. Thankfully the only people in Kenya who have a million shillings spare are winners of the Safaricom (mobile company) Christams competition (30 winners in 30 days!)

The following Monday was Jamhuri Day. Being British when they’re celebrating independence was rather odd. Especially as people have a tendency to say things like, ‘You colonized us’. I have taken to stressing that actually I’m more than half Irish and giving them a list of all the peoples who colonized Britain. It meant we got to eat chapatti though!

The boys (or should that be men now?) who disappeared have finally come back!!! Though you wouldn’t think it as they’ve been shut up in their room for the past 3 days and are likely to remain so until Christmas. I was worried to see that the news reported that 2 boys who went to the same place actually died! Eek! The story was entitled ‘Right of passage or death?’ Sounds great. I am trying to remember all my EEP training on seemingly scary foreign practices and not ask questions like, ‘Why on earth do you do something so horrible?’ Practices vary from place to place and Angela (who comes from central province) was also a bit confused by how big a deal it all is in Meru.

This weekend I took the kids swimming as I’d promised to. I’m very proud of myself that we left only 5 minutes after I said we would. Usually departure time resembles a train timetable and punctually runs at least 1 hour late. After walking all the way I’m impressed that they still spent over 2 hours in the pool (it’s around 4 miles away and we took the little ones). There was also a wedding reception at the same place so me and Leah gate crashed for a bit and helped ourselves to sodas. The bit we were at was pretty much like home – people eating loads and taking pictures, giving speeches etc. Although, it’s traditional to eat fermented porridge at the end of the meal, I don’t think it’d go down too well in Britain, trust me, I’ve tasted it! Leah was saying that the best bit is the evening when all the women dance. There was a bit of dancing while we were there. They had to go round the car before the newly weds got out and they sang a traditional song, which to my ears sounded out of key. The singing takes an acquired ear and at the moment I don’t appreciate it as I should I’m sorry to say.

Hope you all have a good, stress free Christmas! Don’t eat too much or blow up your microwaves.

Siobhan

2005-12-07T16:57:00.000+03:00

It’s been cabbages, cabbages, cabbages since you heard from me last (yes, I have realised that I mention them every time). The staff did a prolonged disappearing act when they went to Mombassa for 3 days last week. So yours truly was tied to the kitchen along with a load of the boys who had finished school (that’s Patrick and Mark from Class 8, Lewis and another Patrick in secondary). They are now very pleased with themselves as they have well and truly proved that boys can cook. I don’t quite get the girls’ logic when they started this slander campaign, as both the cooks here are men. I quite enjoyed myself though as, thankfully, it was a goat free kitchen. We also have a peeler courtesy of Kate, which is by far my favorite utensil, it makes things sooo much quicker.

However after 3 days of boiling beans and crying over onions it was a relief to get to Naomi’s for Bible study. Naomi, Jeana and I have started making a regular thing of meeting for Bible study and it’s been really good to sit and talk about God. I’ve not done very much of it since I arrived. At the moment we’re looking at Romans. Well, Naomi and me are as Jeana has now run to the coast for 2 months.

On Friday I attended yet another carol service, this time at KEMU (Kenya Methodist University, the E is just so it makes a word). The kids weren’t allowed to go because of the fiasco before the Teacher’s College where they didn’t practice their dance and were about an hour late. Instead I went with Naomi and we almost embarrassed ourselves by wearing very similar clothes. One of her friends thought we were coming in some kind of uniform. It was good, we even got to watch some salsa dancing which is something of a rarity in this neck of the woods. I think most people there thought it was a bit too risqué for a Methodist carol service but I’m finding it hard to see what all the fuss is about, by British standards it was very tame. We left before the end so I avoided drinking tea! Hurrah! We walked out at 11 because we were both going to sleep.

I also escaped MCH on Saturday to have a movie night with Naomi. We watched ‘How to loose a guy in 10 days’ complete with popcorn then decided to go to bed at 10 because we were both dropping off!

I then went to church with Naomi (or Miami as James thought I called her). She goes to a church plant of the Nairobi Chapel called Meru Community Chapel. It’s quite a young church (as in how long it’s been there, not the age of the congregation) but it’s certainly the most lively of the 3 I’ve been to. I really liked it there. It actually felt like people were worshipping rather than falling asleep and I can still remember what the sermon was about! This week they had a visiting preacher from South Africa who’s a traveling evangelist and came all the way to Kenya in the most clapped out car I’ve ever set eyes on. It really was evidence that miracles still happen. He was also white. I’m beginning to have a certain amount of sympathy for all the people who stare at me when I walk around town as I’ve also started staring at other white people on the rare occasions that I come across them. A white nun in a pick-up truck waved at me the other day and it was really weird to see someone with proper white hair.

It’s not only the staff and myself who’ve been perfecting the art of invisibility. Four of the boys went to be circumcised on Saturday and still haven’t come back, no-one seems to know when they’ll turn up again. It brought about an ‘interesting’ conversation with Sammy (the cook) who was absolutely incredulous (like, he actually didn’t believe me) that it’s not part of British culture. He’s decided that all the blokes must just keep it secret from the women!

My Granma has been asking about the kids here and it occurred to me that it’s pretty stupid of me not to tell you all. Therefore you are in for a lecture on MCH. Ahem.

In 1999 MCH opened with 12 children (10 boys, 2 girls) from the feeding project they had been running for the previous year or two. It has since grown. There are now a load more buildings (with 2 more on the way) and some swings (yes Fiona, our very own swings!), a roundabout and a slide (the most important features obviously). There are now 32 kids (21 boys and 11 girls) aged between 7 and 18ish. The youngest is called Mwendwa like me, there are 3 Patricks and even in Kenya you can’t escape from Dave’s and Chris’s! They still confuse me with who’s related to who but there’s a fair few brothers, sisters and cousins. I think you could probably link everyone up if you were patient enough. I’m going to try and get photos so you can see who everyone is and what the place looks like but it might take me a while to find a way of putting them on the computer. Don’t hold your breath!

Siobhan

2005-11-23T12:26:00.000+03:00

Before you get any news I want to clear up some boring but useful things. Recently I had an extremely confusing conversation with someone from FHI talking in acronyms so I though it might be best to give you a mini dictionary of all the abbreviations I use quite a bit.
MCK: Methodist Church Kenya
MCH: Meru Children’s Home
CCM: Catholic Church Missions (the feeding project is based at CCM Meru Township primary school)
FHI: Food for the Hungry International

Ok now is a bit for my Mum’s benefit. I’m enjoying myself and am very happy here – I don’t miss any of you! So now everyone who knows my parents can stop asking them and my mother can stop jumping behind bushes whenever she sees any of you.

I need to correct myself as last time I tried, and failed, to write two sentences at once. Schools close 2nd December (ish) however Class 8 and Kaaga Girls (secondary school) are already off.

I’m getting a backlog of all the greetings people at this end are telling me to send so please consider yourselves about 100 times by everyone.

Righto! To business. Thus far I’ve been to two carol services, one at Kaaga Girls and the other at Meru Teacher’s College. Apparently length is directly proportional to holiness and these two were very holy. As in over 3 hours holy. A carol service here is much the same as home (apart from the length!). There’s lots of singing, bits of drama, preaching, prayers and lots of dancing. Obviously all the songs aren’t the same, there’s a mix of Swahili and English, (sometimes even in the same song!) and people don’t mind dancing in the aisles, something you don’t see very often in Britain methinks. Listening to people sing ‘Jingle Bells’ when you’re sweating is rather odd. The most random thing about them both was the people who talked to me afterwards. At KG the woman in front turned round and asked for my mobile number. Just that. She wasn’t bothered about my name or anything, only the mobile number. At MTC it was a drunk second year who wanted to be my pen pal and was convinced he’d lived in the US for 2 years.

In between carol services I’ve been cooking sooo much that I really am fed up with cabbage now. If it wasn’t for the fact that I’m supposed to attack it with a very large knife that would be exactly what I want to do. One of the cooks is ill and the other has only just come back from leave so everyone has been busy busy busy in order that we can eat. I had a scary moment the other day when I walked into the kitchen store to find some cabbage. Instead I found a goat’s head staring at me from the shelf. Starting backwards I almost put my own head in its rib cage which was hanging from the ceiling. Nice.

Actually, it’s not just cooks who are scarce – all the staff seem to keep disappearing. A while ago they visited Isiolo then on Monday the place was deserted because they all went to vote. Apparently it takes all day to vote, I’m not sure why. Oranges (No) won so there’s no new constitution and people round here are quite disappointed. Kaaga Methodist was a counting center so church on Sunday was a bit intimidating with security people wandering around with big guns. However, it was pretty peaceful on Monday, I don’t think there was much violence anywhere.

I think that’ll be it for this week as I need to get off the computer.

Siobhan

2005-11-09T13:58:00.000+03:00

Another week, another name for me. I seem to be getting quite as collection. By the time I leave they might even have got back round to calling me Siobhan again. This time James has christened me Shimbli (Swahili for lion cub) and it seems to be sticking.

Keeping with the animal theme I will relate some amusing incidents. I was astounded last week to observe a cow on the news. This is not noteworthy – Kenyan news often features cows. But this cow was drinking beer. Not only this but it was drinking beer in Makutano! On my next trip through this now interesting town I got Patrick to point out which bar this cow likes to frequent. Pity I can’t go and have a look. More alarmingly, there is a puppy thief on the loose! John caught this villain red handed trying to smuggle one of our puppies out of the compound. I hope it gave him fleas! We also have a chicken that walks like a duck.

Puppy snatchers are not the only drama we’ve had. The health inspectors paid a visit on 28th which caused a bit of a stir. As a result Kate and I spring cleaned and painted the kitchen store room. (Hand washing painty clothes is not fun.) On Wednesday (2nd Nov) night the whole of Forms 3 and 4 from Kaaga Boys (local secondary) decided to beat the stuffing out of each other over some stolen text books. I’m quite glad I didn’t find out what was going on until the next morning. It got so bad they called the police in and the only reason it never made the news is that they stoned away the reporters! Prayers generally for people’s tempers wouldn’t go amiss, especially as pre-referendum violence is also stepping up.

Less violent drama has come in the shape of Andrea’s discovery that Alessandro is in love with Maria Clara (sorry but I’m well and truly hooked on Secreto de Amore now)

The minister took Kate and I to Githongo Tea Factory. They have tighter security than Fort Knox!!! The sight of scary guards and an intimidating ‘NO UNAUTHORISED VISITORS’ sign almost sent me running back home. We couldn’t take photos and I’m surprised no one shoved a confidentiality form into my hand. Apparently rival tea companies send spies to steal trade secrets and sabotage the machinery or something.

We’re just heading into the peak tea season so soon they’ll be dealing with squillions of kgs. The whole country is hidden under a cloud of tea bushes. I felt rather like a Blue Peter presenter walking round picking up bits of tea in various stages of processing. Did you know that tea leaves are first withered, then chopped, then fermented, then washed and dried and finally sorted in groovy layered sieve thing? Well it’s true. I am now knowledgeable, cardigan-wearing expert so you should listen to me.

In addition to my status as professional expert I’m also turning into a mini preacher. I led Wednesday prayers again last week (Col 3:11-14 I think) Apparently it was good but I’m convinced it’s only the novelty of someone who talks for less than 10 minutes. The children have threatened to make me do Friday Fellowship. If you never hear from me again it’s because I’ve concentrated so much my brain has exploded.

This Sunday (6th) I went to a different church. Jeana Scofield took me to St Paul’s in Meru town. (Jeana is a mission partner from Britain working with schools on HIV/AIDS education. She lives just down the road from me which is very useful for eating apples and talking to someone who doesn’t try to explain things in Kimeru) St Paul’s is an interdenominational church – does going there count as treachery? I enjoyed the service better than Kaaga Methodist (sorry!) but it went on for ages as the school they started came and asked for money for a new school bus. At the end we had to stay even longer because Jeana was called to an impromptu meeting about said school bus. She wasn’t too impressed. It’s pretty hard going when every random stranger and also the not-so-random people you know presume you’re loaded because you’re white. Wouldn’t be so bad if I actually was really rich.

After we’d eventually eaten lunch it was off to some place that looks after babies that’ve been abandoned. I really can’t remember the name, all I can think of is ‘Ripley’s Believe It Or Not’ and I know that’s wrong. The idea is that they keep them till age 3 then hopefully they’ll be adopted or else put into a Home rather like MCH (Meru Children’s Home). The most common ways they’re found is either on the roadside or the mothers leave the hospital and just leave them behind. Fear of AIDS is usually the reason though most of the babies are negative thankfully. The son of the cook at CCM is no longer afraid of me so it’s a good job I went to the baby place and found some more small kids to terrorize with my white-ness.

All the kids are off this week apart from Class 8, in order to have quiet for the exams (educationalists at home take note!). So it’s been quite fun. They’re constantly practicing dances for the carol service at Kaaga Girls on Friday. The schools break up for the year next week so Christmas season has to come a bit early in order to fit it in before everyone leaves school. They also had Friday off for Eid and we were all watching other people’s Divali fireworks last week. Everything feels quite festive so it was odd for Bonfire Night to pass by unnoticed.

2005-10-26T14:15:00.000+03:00

So, the third newsletter – is that supposed to have some kind of religious significance? Perhaps you should count the third letter of every third word and find out when the world will end or a really good recipe for cheesecake. Or not.

Well, it’s been a choc-a-bloc fortnight. I found out one day before she arrived that I’d be having a visitor in my room for 2 weeks. Hurrah for forward planning and organisation! But Kate is very nice so everything is fine. She is from near Reading and has spent the last year getting rid of all the money she saved over the previous 2 years by traveling round the world. Sounds fun. Kenya is her last port of call before going home to teach swimming and work on a cruise ship. It’s been nice to have some company and due to her fear of spiders I’m now very practiced in the art of the ‘stomp-n-flick’.

My whole life seems very full of visitors at the moment. A couple of Saturdays ago Meru School paid us a visit. Lewis, one the boys here, is in Form 1 there (1st yr secondary) so he dragged all his friends to come and see us. Visitors are great, mainly because they usually bring biscuits but also because we get treated to lots of singing, dancing and sketches that are mostly funny. There is also a teacher’s college nearby and a fair few will turn up during the week as the administrator’s wife, Esther, works there. They made Kate and I visit last Friday. It was fun for me because I just got to watch while Kate taught some students how to teach swimming. This was fun because teaching swimming relies heavily on actions rather than descriptions. Need I say more?

The board of the Home has also been this week and last week, which resulted in a (live) chicken fiasco without comparison and an intensive cooking session to make the most time consuming meal in the history of humanity. As of yet I am in the dark about the reason for this board meeting. It is a mystery never to be solved. However, I am painfully aware how long it took to cook all their food. After a surreal shopping trip of 3.5 hours to buy chickens and veg people were then up until 2am preparing food and we were still mega busy the next day. How? I still haven’t figured out where all the time went.

The evil shopping trip commenced with a perilous car ride to town with Christian music circa 1960 (because it’s nice for me to listen to something English) and a gymnastic session to avoid the fleas that the dogs had left. We then wandered around town with at least 4 different men trying to sell us (live) chickens. Eventually Esther bought 5. I’m not quite sure what else we did but it took at least an hour. Then it was back to Makutano to get the veg. When we finally got back I passed up the opportunity to watch the live chickens become not so live. It’s quite enough to watch the boys go off with a Weapon of Mass Destruction masquerading as a knife and a look of unholy glee.

Also on the subject of food, you will be relieved to know that I have managed a total of 3 meals sans cabbage!

While there haven’t been visitors we’ve been swimming and more importantly I walked all the way to the feeding project by myself!! Such courage! Such independence! I successfully avoided being eaten by wild lions or trampled on by a heard of wilderbeast. I’m beginning to look forward to a long and glorious career as an intrepid explorer. Then to crown this already sparkling achievement I was the goalkeeper when the children played football and I saved 5 (yes, 5!) goals. Please wipe that look of incredulity from your face – I swear it’s true.

I got an escort back home though – thus an end to my independence. The Home is near to a bread factory (Mafuko’s) and on Saturday they hand out all the extra stuff to the street children. Mr Mafuko is very popular as he’s very keen on doing community work, he sponsors loads of the schools round here as well. It confused me at first to see bread adverts on all the school gates!

The rains have finally started and to be honest I can’t get what all the fuss is about. Most of the time it’s sunny and relatively warm. It’s in the morning and evening we get downpours. The amount of rain doesn’t seem to tally with the amount of coughs and colds people seem to get. You’d think we were in for the second Flood from the way people talk! However, it means that the house mothers have all been rushing off to plant their crops then rushing back to plant the ones here. So what with board meetings and visiting day everything’s been a bit manic.

I visited the school of the kids here on Tuesday for the visiting day. They have one once a term, it’s like parents’ evening but the kids get a day off school and no one even bothers trying to be organized with appointments. You just wander in and out of the classrooms you want to visit. Being so old and responsible I even acted as their parent and talked to the teachers. I was then asked to have a picture taken with two of the pupils, which then turned into a mega photo shoot. You’d think I was some kind of celebrity. In fact, I’m surprised no one’s asked for my autograph. I’m not sure how to describe the school, apart from everything’s very blue.

To while away all these spare hours I have (?!) I’ve been marking the English compositions of Mark, he’ll be taking his final primary school exams this month so he’s getting in loads of practice. Unfortunately for him I only know when something is wrong, not why. I’ve also visited the moon with David, possibly the oldest person in class 7 – he swears he was around before Mt Kenya. Three of the other boys also kept me well entertained by asking me: ‘Do you have a (long pause) bicycle?’ because they couldn’t work up the courage to ask if I have a boyfriend.

With the girls I’ve been spending quality time having my hair plaited again (this time a different style – 6hrs!) and watching Secreto de Amore, a Spanish soap dubbed into English. Due to my hair I am now Maria Clara though they decided the other day that this couldn’t be right, as I’m not as stupid as her. I’m quite relieved but I’ll steer well clear of anyone called Carlos in future.

I’ve also been given a Kimeru name, Mwendwa, which means ‘loved one’ which is very nice. I’m coming along with the language but it could be better. So far I can say yes, no, look, come and in a burst of eloquence I can even ask, ‘can I tell you something?’ Not so useful when your vocabulary doesn’t allow you to actually tell anyone anything but never mind.

God Bless

Mwendwa (!)

2005-10-11T14:12:00.000+03:00

Well, I've made it to the second email! Yes, I know I lied in the last one. I was viciously attacked by a fit of blond-ness and wrote next week instead of 2 weeks. Please forgive me! Perhaps so called 'African time' is rubbing off on me. I've even noticed some Kenyans talking about American time when they want something to start promptly!

You'll be pleased to know that I've become used to the food, although I still think cabbage is seriously over-rated. As food is one of my favourite topics I'm going to continue for a while. Last Saturday I learnt how to make chipatis but I didn't learn how to spell it - I hope that's right. I have also tasted sugar cane, which is like rock but you have to spit bits out and you can't get any with your name written through the middle. I almost lost some more teeth eating it, watching some of the kids filled me with awe. They either have good technique or their jaws are made from titanium. Most of the time they lop of a cane from one of the plants around the home but you also see men with overflowing wheelbarrows in town. Another thing you find in wheelbarrows is live chickens. In fact I've just remembered that on my 4th day in Meru I was with Esther and she bought one of these infamous live chickens. Being the young fit and able one I was the one who had to go and fetch it and put it in the boot. I don't think that beats Janet but it was a bit weird.

It's not just my stomach that's settled in - the rest of me feels more at home as well. I think I've just about got the hang of the routine. I don't feel so much like a torist any more but I've discovered that I myself am I torist attraction! Every time I walk through town I get stared at like I have two heads. The other day I even got a bunch of kids following me back through the slums. However, I do feel a bit out of place sometimes because some of the 'children' are older than me yet I'm counted as staff - where do I fit in?! Woe is me!

The school system here starts at 7 with 8 years of primary followed by 4 years of secondary (which is usually bording school). Which means that the end of primary school is like GCSE age but quite a few started late or had to repeat years so they end up being older than me. Free primary education only came in a couple of years back when the 3rd President (yes, they've only had 3!) was elected.

He appears to be making quite a lot of changes (like surfacing roads!! Whoo!) but the main one is the constitution. Everyone here is bananas! No, that is not a prejudiced assessment of their mental capabilities, it is a judgement of the current political climate. Honest. Due to high levels of illiteracy, when they vote on the new constitution it'll be bananas for 'yes' and oranges for 'no'. How cool is that? Most people round here seem to be bananas but we'll have to wait until November to find out.

I've been spending a couple of days a week at CCM which is a feeding project in Meru town that feeds some of the other street children the Children's Home can't take in. Just so you know 'street children' doesn't mean 'homeless'. Most of them have a parent/guardian but choose to spend most of their time on the street because home isn't very pleasant. Poverty is a big issue, just being able to get food is a problem let alone paying rent and HIV/AIDS only compounds the problem. As well as giving out lunch they're encouraging the guardians of the children to grow their own food. (The school where it's based has given over some land for this, which was very nice of them.) The social services and Food for the Hungry do quite a lot of home visits to guardians - the theory being that anything they do will be a waste of time if it's not backed up by the parents/guardians. I've tagged along on a few of them, hense the pied piper impression through the slums with the kids following me. These visits have been very interesting in a horrible kind of way. I will not attempt to describe the homes of some of the people because it will make me cry.

In order to continue walking around Meru on home visits when the rains come I've invested in a lovely pair of wellies, they are a stylish black so will always be fashionable. Sometime in the next two weeks all the bright red dust which is currently choking me will turn into bright red mud which will no doubt make me fall over. It's slightly bewildering to see people preparing for some rain. One of the things we've been busy with over the weekend is preparing a field for growing maize. Which means I helped with the lovely job of moving tons of manure, I did attempt to balance the bucket on my head but I think manure isn't the best thing to pratice with.

I've also had my hair plaited, which felt like a xylophone had landed on my scalp. It took ages! As in, 5 hours! But it looked good, at least everyone here seemed to appreciate me looking like a 'proper' Kenyan girl.

Church is much better now I can understand what people say. This Sunday was the first sermon I could actually follow! Success! My Swahili lessons have taken a musical form, as the Home has a choir and they've started teaching me the songs as well. It'll be even better when I know what they mean! Kimeru is still beyond me, my tongue is having serious problems, at least I can greet people now.

And with that I'll say goodbye.

Siobhan

2005-09-28T14:13:00.000+03:00

Habari! Welcome to my newsletter! To make it truly Kenyan I should shake your hand but for some reason Microsoft haven't managed this yet!

First things first: I am not dead - the plane did not crash. Secondly my address is:

Siobhan Scully
c/o MCK Meru Children's Home
PO Box 113
Meru 60200
Kenya

Thirdly, I have stopped feeling excited and now fell tired and stressed out. Please pray for me. NB Being an atheist is NOT an excuse.

Righto now I can get on with it. I arrived last Tuesday evening in Nairobi so bored I was ready to go home again. Long distance flights are not that exciting. However, whilst pondering the colour of the seat in front of me and doing toe exercises I was hit by a puzzling thought: Why are there no air stewards over 35? Surely their life expectancy isn't that low.

I then stayed with the Moffoots until Saturday. (Some of you will know Andy and Sheila from their time in Sheffield but for those of you who don't they're mission partners based in Nairobi.) May I just take this opportunity to gloat: I have seen baby Joe before any of you!!! However I'm not sure I'll ever see him again as quite a few times people thought Joe was mine and Sheila was the grandma! I went to feed some girraffes but, sorry, I've seen no lions yet. On Saturday Andy took me to the MCK (Methodist Church Kenya) Youth Council meeting. It was good to get a flavour of what the Church in Kenya is up to even though I was quite bored. In my first bit of intoducing-ness I thought I did rather well - until they pointed out that I hadn't said my name. After a Kenyan lunch (more about food later...) Andy drove me up to Meru so that brings us to Sunday... (WARNING never get in a car if a Kenyan is driving, they have less road sense than a pigeon. In fact they have less road, most of it looks like an obstacle course from the bowels of Hell)

Can you believe that Kaaga Church has 'Songs of Fellowship'?! It was almost like walking into a church in the UK but here they would never have a picture of Jesus with blond ringlets and blue eyes. EEPs - do you remember the woodland picture from 'The Christ we Share' pictures? Well it was worse than that!

So far I don't have a plan of what I'll be doing during the week but hopefully we should sort this out in the next couple of days. So, I have been amusing myself by reading a doorstop of a book on the building of the railway from Mombasa to Lake Victoria and going to see the cows. They have a relatively new dairy here and the woman in charge, Angela, is new to the area as well. She's 22 and doesn't understand Kimeru which is nice because I don't either. That's what they speak up (should that be down?) here and it is quite frustrating because in order understand people you have to know Swahili, Kimeru and English - they use all 3 in the space of 1 sentence. Anyway, I had had my first try at milking today, I can't say it was entirely successful but practice makes perfect - poor cows...

I'll also be helping out at the feeding project that's run in Meru for the street children that the Home can't take in.

Which brings me nicely onto food. Praises be to our glorious Father! - there is nothing that makes me feel sick. However, the reason for this is that is doesn't taste of anything apart from salt! I never want to eat another cabbage as long as I live. And if anyone tries to tell me of the wonderful meat you get in Kenya I will punch you in the teeth. Then you will know how I feel after I've chewed my way through the last set of teeth God gave me.

On a brighter note I'm making friends with the kids here and generally they don't laugh at me too much! Now I can understand more than three words when people talk to me - I'm gradually getting used to the accent. The weather is FAB and once I get used to the fact that getting up at 5.30am isn't morally wrong life will be great.

More next week.

God bless

Siobhan