The Calm Before and After the Storm

The happy recipients of brand new Brooks running shoes

I finally found the time to write again, unfortunately only because I caught some sort of cold or flu yesterday and am forcing myself to rest today.  People keep trying to tell me that it might be malaria, but I don’t believe them.  Those of you who know me know how stubborn I am when it comes to taking medicine, so in that manner I am going to wait this one out and let my body identify and fix the problem on its own.  I have to keep telling people, “Mimi si mgonjwa (I am not a sick person).”  As soon as I send the message to my body that it is sick, then it will require medication and a trip to the clinic, so I am instead just sending the message that I am being nice and giving it a day to relax.  I think it is receiving the message well so far.  I may just have caught something small in the whirlwind that has been since I last updated you, as seems to be the trend so far this trip.  I don’t anticipate that trend changing any time soon with everything that we have coming up, which is just fine with me.  This Saturday is the big celebration that we have been planning and preparing for since about this time last month.  We are anticipating over 100 guests, including many local and national government officials and forest officers, large-scale farmers, churches and NGO’s, and friends from the community, each of whom will receive a tree seedling to take home and plant on their farm in remembrance of this day and our tree nursery.  We are still waiting for the team from the drilling company to come and install the pipes and pump, which seems to be somewhat crucial in showcasing the new access to water we have.  I am told they have arrived in town this evening and will be on the compound very early tomorrow morning to complete the one-day job.  We have decided that we will hire some people from the community to dig the trench for the piping from the borehole to the holding tank and from the holding tank to the taps that will be used for irrigation.  We have tried to include the surrounding community in this project as much as possible, both as an effort to support those in our own backyard and to create as much goodwill as possible with this blessing of water.  I still wish I could put into words just how humbling it is to be involved in a project with this magnitude of effect on an entire community.  My heart is so completely full of joy everyday by playing a role in seeing this vision become a reality, getting and giving updates on its progress, making decisions that affect its completion and application, and just sharing in the bliss of it all.

The kids hard at work preparing and planting the shamba for the upcoming growing season.

 After this weekend, the real work will begin.  We have already prepared a lot of the land for the tree nurseries, standardized and planted most of the seeds for the garden, and made almost solid plans for the fruit tree orchards, but there are still a lot of unanswered questions and uncompleted work.  I put together a document with all of the questions we need answered before we can make accurate projections and appropriate plans for each program, which will be handed out to the managers to divvy out to staff.  Once all of these questions are answered, I told them they can either wait for me to get back from Sudan and help them put it all together, or they can do it themselves and get moving.  My preference is the latter, though I want them to make the decision.  What I am trying to accomplish, as I mentioned last post, is to slowly let go of the leadership role I have assumed in this and pass it off to the managers of the programs themselves.  I know they are very capable, and I think they do too, but I am seeing how easily they concede to me, and really any westerner, as someone who must be more of an expert than themselves.  I have told them that they are the experts here and the only ones who can actually pull this all off, but I am seeing that they may not really believe me until I tell them I am no longer in the lead and am just here to be a part of the team.  This seems to be the next step in the realization process for me that this is their project and they must own it for it to really succeed.  No matter how badly I want it to flourish, I can actually prevent its success by not letting go and letting them be the ones driving it forward in whichever direction they choose with their own ideas and initiative.  I have now told them all of this very directly and stepped back, and, wouldn’t you know it, have seen more initiative and creativity out of them.  Funny how that works, isn’t it?

Standing on the edge of the escarpment in Kapkokwon, Chereger's home.

Some other pretty major events have happened since I last wrote, including the birth of my very first nephew and my acceptance to the other two master’s programs I applied to.  I was away two years ago for the birth of my niece and now am away as my nephew is coming into the world.  Needless to say I feel like a really awful uncle, a sentiment my sister says she doesn’t agree with, though she certainly hasn’t disagreed, bless her heart.  She only told me very sternly that if there is another niece or nephew of mine arriving in the future, I must be there.  My response to that was to tell her to hurry up and make it happen in the next two years while I am in grad school, as to ensure my presence in the country.   Where exactly in the country I will be for the next two years is still a bit up in the air, though I am leaning toward being in Seattle.  I was accepted to the MPA program at UW, the MBA program at Brandeis in Boston, and the MA in Social Enterprise program at American in DC, all of which are great programs that would definitely help me get where I think I am going.  There are obviously many factors in the decision for me, finances being one of the main ones, so I am going to keep praying and thinking through it until the end of the weekend before I make my decision.  I would appreciate your thoughts and prayers in my decision, as well, and hopefully I will be able to let you know where I will be by my next posting.  

The wonderful family that hosted me in Kapkokwon.

One thing adding urgency is that I need to be solid in that decision prior to leaving for Sudan next week.  I am not sure of what my internet access will be while I am there, so I don’t want to be passive and let the deadlines pass.  In addition to that, I really don’t want to have to be thinking about all of that while I am there, as I am sure the new setting will offer plenty for me to think about.  We are set to leave one week from today on the night bus, through western Kenya and into Kampala, Uganda.  I will stay there with a friend for four or five days while the others go ahead to get things set up in our new temporary home.  I am really looking forward to spending some more time with my friend in Kampala, whom I haven’t seen in just about two years now.  This is the same friend you may remember I visited during my first stay here in Kenya, who took me camping at Lake Albert and Murchison Falls, and took me for a floating safari on the Nile on Easter Sunday.  I don’t think any of that will be happening this time, but I am looking forward to catching up with him and learning more about what is going on with the UN programs in Uganda now.  Last time I met with some really great and experienced people there who shared a lot of their wisdom and understanding with me, and even connected me to some of their small NGO partners that are running programs focused on sports.  I would love to check back in with those organizations and also get to know some others this time round.  My only hope is that the bus ride from Kampala to Juba on my own doesn’t get too tricky, like the one from Eldoret to Kampala did two years ago.  I recently met the Kenyan ambassador to Sudan, who was really nice and encouraged me that Juba is a great place to be right now.  I just hope I can handle the heat, which I found out is an average high of 36 degrees Celsius (about 97 Fahrenheit) this time of year.  I told the kids here that when I return from Sudan, all of my freckles will have joined together and I will be blacker than they are.  About half of them thought I was serious.

 

Just hanging out with the kids of the village before church on Sunday morning.

As a little warm up for the heat, we took a trip down to the valley over the weekend to stay with the family of Chereger, the tree nursery manager here.  His home is about a 3-hour drive from here, with plenty of stunning viewpoints along the way.  We arrived around dinner time on Friday and were very warmly welcomed by about 25 people from his village; apparently this is one of those places that has never hosted white people, so it is a big deal when we came rolling into town.  We met everyone and, of course, each gave a speech telling about ourselves and giving thanks for the welcome.  During my speech, which I am sure was riveting for everyone who could barely understand my broken Kiswahili, Chereger’s mother, a woman of somewhere around 90 years (no one actually knows her age since they didn’t keep birth records back then), emerged from the mud hut to my right, bent over at almost 90 degrees and leaning on a stick in each hand to support her.  Everyone stopped and looked at her, then, much to my surprise, she tossed aside the sticks and joyfully shouted a Kalenjin greeting in my direction.  She stared at me in the eyes with a huge smile on her ripened face as she crossed her hands to give me a double handshake.  It is not often that I am caught off guard to the point of being paralyzed in word and action, but she just about got me to that point.  I stammered some version of a Kiswahili greeting and then stood silent in a near staring contest with her as she prolonged the double handshake for what felt like five minutes.  Needless to say the ice was now broken and we soon all enjoyed a wonderful dinner together before retreating to our respective sleeping quarters.  The next day was full of activities from the time we woke up.  After chai we took a short walk to the edge of the escarpment to take in the view and see the baboons.  We then walked some more to the home of the chairman of the village farmer’s group.  After touring his amazing shamba and taking chai with fresh-from-the-tree mangoes and bananas, we walked to the primary school to meet with three different groups for an information and motivation session.  This was a great meeting, but was different for me because it was with people who had already formed groups, rather than with a community full of disorganized individuals.  My main message to them was to now use the group they were a part of as a source of strength, letting each member’s creativity and ambition drive the group forward, but not to allow any single member to try to rise above the group.  I told them I have met with communities and groups in many different places around the world, and the one thing that will always ruin a group is when one person starts to put their own interests ahead of the group’s.  I drew on my experiences in team sports for the same message, and encouraged them to all hold each other accountable and never let anyone stray.  I even grabbed a couple people and locked arms with them to demonstrate how strong and difficult to knock over we were when we were together, versus when I was standing on my own, briefly comparing it to the game Red Rover before realizing the culture and language gaps probably wouldn’t allow appropriate communication on my end or understanding on theirs.

The AIC church we had service at on Sunday morning.  We had three churches come for the service so they could see and listen to the Wazungu.  It was a really great service, but I don't think any of the kids heard a single word because they were so preoccupied with the presence of white skin.

After a very long meeting, even by Kenyan standards, we walked back to Chereger’s home for a late lunch and a little relaxing before evening hunting.  I had no expectations that I would actually be able to handle the local bow and arrow, but I surprised myself during the pre-hunting practice session and hit the tree target 3 times out of maybe 15 shots.  Now maybe that doesn’t sound impressive, but even the locals, who use this weapon on a very regular basis, didn’t hit it more than 10 times, so I felt pretty good about my efforts.  As a result of this, I was given a position as one of four sharp shooters, much to my delight.  So off we went into the surrounding bush, four sharp shooters and a chase team of about half a dozen, in search of antelope, guinea fowl, and rabbits.  I was hoping we would just come across hoards of wild animals and I would have plenty of opportunities to calm my nerves and make a kill, coming home a hero with meat for the whole village.  I pictured myself sprinting alongside an antelope and making a slow motion rolling dive, Mission Impossible-like shot.  I have been known to let my imagination run wild at times, and in this case it definitely set me up for failure.  Even as we set out, I didn’t really understand the concept of our team strategy, but it quickly became clear that the four of us with weapons would be crouched in hiding, stretched out in a straight line at one edge of the bush, about 20 meters apart.  At the other end of the section of bush we designated, the chase team would spread out and walk toward us, throwing stones and just making as much noise as possible, in order to scare the animals toward us.  The scheme is pretty brilliant if you ask me.  The first section turned up animal-less, save a few small birds, so we quickly planned our next area and set up.  Within a couple minutes, I heard the excited shrieks of the chase team, which is when I realized I had no idea what I was looking for or what I was supposed to do.  I almost instantly stood up and started toward the yelling, but then crouched back down and tried to play it cool as I noticed the other sharp shooters calmly waiting with bows drawn.  At that instant, a rabbit came scurrying out of the bush right at the sharp shooter on the far end, who shall remain nameless for reasons you will soon understand, about 40 meters from me.  It was hard to tell who was the hunter and who was the hunted, as they both froze and stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity before the unnamed hunter finally launched a nervous arrow from his bow.  The arrow dove into the rocky ground in front of the rabbit, which then darted in my direction, directly at the second sharp shooter, who had his bow drawn but was unable to fire because it would have been in the direction of his fellow hunter.  The rabbit froze again and then quickly turned and ran back in the direction he came, past the hunter it first encountered, who was holding his bow in the air at this point, as if to swipe at the animal like he was holding a fly swatter.  Not surprisingly, this tactic was unsuccessful and the rabbit dashed past him down the path, being chased now by myself and the second sharp shooter.  We gave good chase for about 400 meters, nearly falling myself many times as my ankles rolled with each step on the unsteady and shifting rocks.  We finally conceded to the rabbit’s superior quickness and knowledge of the area, and headed back to reconvene with the rest of the group.  You can imagine that the first sharp shooter got a lot of heat from all of us for how he handled the encounter with the smallest animal we were hunting, but after all the dust settled and I caught my breath I realized just how funny the whole situation had been.  We tried another three sections but didn’t find a single animal, so we had a mock celebration and honoring ceremony, hunkered in a circle in traditional Kalenjin fashion.  We returned home with nothing more than a good story and an increased ambition redeem ourselves, but I had an absolute blast in my first hunting trip.  This is the only way I can see myself approving of hunting, as it seems fair that I have to work just as hard as the animal in the struggle.  The plan is to return to the same village in May for a full weekend of hunting in a different area along a ravine, which I am told is full of large antelope. 

Three members of the sharp shooter team with two great hunting dogs.  On the left is Chereger and on the right is Patrick.  Some goofy white guy is in the middle.

There really isn’t much more to tell you, but I hope to be back to share more about all the happenings of the rest of the week and the coming weekend before I head out of the country.  In the meantime, I am going to try to kick whatever this sickness is and get back to being outside working with the staff and playing games with the kids.  I love hearing from home, so send me an email any time just to let me know how you are doing.  Otherwise, be good to yourselves and those around you.