The children at the school in Kipkarren as we were getting ready to play football. This is their new football field, overlooking the valley, which most of them play on barefoot. You can see why I love these kids so much.Again I am writing this from Kipkarren, this time sitting in the gazebo right on the beautiful river I spoke of last time. I was supposed to arrive here on Monday and spend the entire week, but my back went into full spasms right after the Monday morning run with the kids, leaving me incapable of almost anything except lying in bed trying to ignore the pain. This was very frustrating because I was looking forward to spending the whole week here visiting AIDS patients in their homes and playing games with the kids. The two days I spent in bed really drove home an important lesson, however, and so, despite the pain, I am thankful for the opportunity to learn. About six years ago I had an operation on my back to repair a herniated disk between two of my vertebrae in my low back, and since then, though mostly feeling healthy, I know I am never far from the unpredictable episodes of severe back spasms that I have experienced about once per year. Despite this, or maybe especially due to this, I have put a lot of stake, in my personal value assessment, in what I am able to do physically, but these episodes have served as reminders that this is neither accurate nor healthy. So as I lay in bed, feeling helpless and useless, I again was reminded of this, but in a more profound way this time, I think due to being isolated and away from comforts of home. Obviously I was not able to run with the kids during the week or partake in normal games time, but something very important happened during those few days – I was treated exactly the same by the kids and all the staff at the home and training center. For the first time in my life, I didn’t feel like I had less value because I was somewhat incapacitated physically. I have been trying to carry that with me this whole week, and will try to keep it with me throughout the remainder of my days on this planet. I think we each do this in one way or another – we put our whole meaning in who we are as an athlete, father or mother, husband or wife, business person, etc. – and although some of these things may be commendable on their own, none of them is healthy or sustainable as someone’s entire worth. They all have their ups and downs, and will all ultimately end at some point. So I am learning what is and is not in my power to control, and how to use my energy accordingly. If you want my opinion, the only thing worthy of putting our whole value in is God, because He ultimately promises us life beyond Earth and because He spans all things we could possibly find to put our value in on this planet.
The students greeting me at Simit Primary School. This is following the initial rush of about 200 children with outstretched hands. This is as close as I will ever come to feeling like a rock star, and I didn’t even do anything to deserve this kind of treatment.
Outside of all of that, things have been good in Kenya the past week. I went out on another mission last Friday to the village of Simit, which is in the “hanging valley,” just below the cliff I was standing on in last entry, but still above the Kerio Valley. We went there at the request of the officer of development for the district, who said that the area was falling apart due to the attitudes of the people and the degradation of the farming land. I definitely saw evidence of the latter, as the fields and especially the beautiful hills were black from being burned endlessly. The people had experienced decreasing crop production and severe water supply restriction, which is made worse by late arrival of the still-absent rainy season. As with most villages I have visited, alcoholism is becoming more prevalent, especially among young people, and the education system is strained. We visited the primary school, which has roughly 500 students for 8 teachers, and this is where I found out that I was the very first white American to visit this village. Classes literally came to a halt when we arrived and all the students and teachers came out to observe the strange, pale creature that seemed to be visiting with the head master of the school. About half the kids were too scared to actually approach me, but the other half swarmed me as soon as I put out my hand to greet them. We had a nice visit with the head master and representatives from the village, although I am pretty sure I was being appealed to for financial sponsorship of their proposed secondary school. We then headed back to the center for lunch and then led a meeting with maybe 100 of the village residents, in an effort to get them to work together and save life for future generations in their area. I personally challenged them to use the understanding that they are the ones who have all the answers to their problems to start moving in the right direction. I told them that I was very disappointed to see what has happened to their land, but that they are in control of what the land will be like in the future. My main message to them was that they have an ample supply of their two greatest resources, land and people, but that both need to be nurtured in order to produce the way they were designed – “In the same way that you need to give the land what it needs to be healthy and able to support the crops you want it to grow, you need to cooperate with each other and all foster creativity and healthy habits in your children so they will have everything they need to produce for themselves and your village in the future. Burning and using chemicals on your land, and cutting down trees on the hills is the same thing as fighting amongst yourselves, and ignoring education and vices such as alcoholism. When I come back to visit, I really hope to see that you have chosen to cultivate positivity and sustainability in both your land and your people.” Of course, I had a translator, so I’m sure he phrased it differently for them, but I think they got the overall message.
Some of the children performing a song and dance during “Guardian’s Day” last weekend. This is the day, once per year, that their former guardians, usually distant relatives or siblings, come to visit the children. It is one of the favorite days of the year for the children.
During my two visits so far to Kipkarren, I have been fortunate to have the opportunity to visit with a number of people living with AIDS, and, as one of the chief issues concerning poverty in Africa, I think it deserves some discussion. After hearing about 20 stories, I have noticed some commonalities between them all, many of which speaking to its overwhelming presence and persistence here. Every single story has contained the following: they knew about HIV and AIDS, but didn’t know much about how one could contract it; they suddenly became very ill and weak, but thought it was just a common sickness; they felt on the verge of death before someone took them to be tested; they felt depressed and considered suicide after testing positive (because all they knew about the disease was that it is fatal and has no cure); they were initially shunned by people in their community when they found out; they had no way to get the amount or kinds of food they were told they needed to stay healthy (they survive, I use the word survive intentionally, on basically corn, maybe rice and beans, and if they are lucky they will have milk and eggs available); and that they now feel healthy, thanks to the efforts of the staff at ELI. Some of them have no idea to this day how they contracted it, others know and wish they would have known that what they were doing could lead to contraction, and a disturbing amount of the women know that they got it from their husbands, who were sleeping with other women and then brining the disease back into their home. I have found that the society here, much the same as in Central America, is very patriarchal, meaning that the women are essentially around to give birth and take care of everything around the home, and the men are supposed to be working in the shamba (garden or farm) and providing for the family in any other way. The sad part is that it is accepted that men will not be faithful to their wives, but that women must not be unfaithful to their husbands. I asked a young man about this and he told me that probably 90% of men are unfaithful in their marriage. This is not only demeaning to the women, in my opinion, but also very dangerous, as an overwhelming percentage of AIDS cases are contracted this way. While trying not to insult the culture or individual men, I tell women that it seems quite unfair and irresponsible to me. Most of them just shrug their shoulders and smile.
Kipkarren River, which is the water of life for people in this area. In the past couple of hours, I have seen children playing and people bathing in it, as well as cows drinking from it. It is beautiful in so many ways.
As I go back to Ilula this weekend, I am excited for a number of possible upcoming events. First, I will be attending an engagement party tomorrow (Saturday), where I am looking forward most to witnessing the traditional negotiation over the number of cows that will be given by the groom’s family to the bride’s family. This seems a bit strange to me, almost like buying a wife from a mail-order-bride catalog, but they tell me that it is their tradition and is a way of showing respect and thanks from one family to another. It is kind of beautiful in a way. After finding out how many cows are normally given – about 12, on average – I ruled myself out of being able to afford a Kenyan bride, much to the dismay of the entire female population in the country, I’m sure. Fortunately, I will also get to attend the wedding the last weekend I am here, so I will get to witness the “exchanging of the cows” (for those of you who didn’t get my pun, I don’t blame you, and for those of you who did, I deeply apologize for thinking I am funny). In addition to those events, I am also planning a short trip to Uganda to visit some friends working with the United Nations Development Program in Kampala. I am so excited for this, as it will give me a chance to see what is being done at that level and learn from the expertise of people much more familiar with the issues and solutions I am trying to get involved in. Yesterday I received an email from a good friend and supporter in Seattle, saying he wants to try to make it over here to visit me and see the work being done. I am so excited to see Greg and have his help in analyzing the situation here. His family is who visited me in Belize, so I think I am going to rename my journey, “Greg and Jeff’s Excellent Adventure” (again, I apologize).
Me with some of the students at Simit Primary School. I walked in their classroom on my way out and their teacher was gone, so we decided to have a little fun.
It’s hard for me to believe that I am about half way through my time in Ilula already; it seems like just last week I was writing that I couldn’t believe I was half way through my time in Belize. I guess age does really make time go faster. Thank you all for your support and attention to what I am doing. If you have any input or thoughts on what I write about, please leave a comment or send me an email at jbates@eracepoverty.org. The more input I have, the better I will process and understand everything. Otherwise, be good to yourselves and those around you, and give some thought to what you put your value in, and how reliable it is.
