We Are All The Same

 Hanging out with the kids outside of the lion cage at Poa Place.

I seriously don’t know where the time is going lately.  I have been planning to sit down and write an update each day for the past week and a half, but somehow the availability of time and energy keeps escaping me.  I knew once the bore hole was operational, and once I returned from my first trip to South Sudan, I would find myself intentionally very busy visiting many people in many different places, but I, for some reason, just wasn’t prepared for just how busy that would cause me to be.  Though I don’t leave back to the states for about 11 weeks now, I recently discovered that I will only be in Kenya for less than half of that time, and in Ilula for a grand total of roughly 3 more weeks.  Two of those three weeks I will have a friend here from back home, which I couldn’t be more excited for.  This fact has added to my sense of urgency while I am here, in that I am no longer able to convince myself that I am tired enough to spend any time in my room during the day resting when I could be hanging out with the parents, staff, and children here, or visiting others in the community.  This has been so fun and wonderful, but at the same time it has left me exhausted and unable to complete any work I think I should be doing.  It took me well over a week to recover from the trip to Sudan before I felt like my brain and body were working at more than half capacity again.  I didn’t realize it while I was there, but it really took a lot out of me in many ways, which I think speaks to the value of my time there and excitement for my next trip, and future involvement.  After sharing some of my experiences in my last update and talking through it with friends and family back home, I realized just how wild and intense of a time it was.  While I am trying to soak up every minute I have here, I am also trying to prepare for another three weeks in that environment in June and July, which I think will be a lot smoother next time round.

All the ladies came together to celebrate and dedicate Kiprotich to the family

Part of that preparation will come during the next couple of weeks I will be spending in Uganda.  Since last time was a bit rushed, and since a bus ride to Kampala from Eldoret is only $20 and 8 hours, I will go back to spend more time with my friends there.  I am looking forward to reconnecting for a longer period of time with them and meeting a lot of new people, and also just relaxing quite a bit.  I will take my yoga mat and kindle so I can sleep in and start each day with some yoga and a good book over breakfast on the verandah.  I am also hoping to run around town quite a bit to see what is happening, and spend a couple days up in the north to see the work my friend is doing with resettling communities and former child soldiers after the LRA wreaked havoc in and around Gulu for many years.  Before leaving for Kampala on Wednesday, I will spend the three days prior in Chepkorio with the family of a man I met the first time I came here in 2009.  He was in the alcoholic rehabilitation program here when I first arrived and we just connected as I spent time with him sharing stories.  I have been to his home many times now and am looking forward to reconnecting with him and his wonderful family.  I am told they are doing very well, that he has remained sober since the day he arrived here over two years ago and is now a leader in his village.  I cannot tell you how much this warms my heart, especially after hearing from him and others how much his addiction had been negatively affecting his and his family’s life, and the entire community, for years.  He apparently now has quite the new home and garden, so I was told to bring my jembe (hoe) and be prepared to dig and weed his garden with him and his wife.  I think I will just borrow one of theirs.

Thousands of flamingos on Lake Bogoria.

So what have I been so busy doing in the past couple weeks?  Well, after taking a few days when I first arrived back to be completely brain dead in an attempt to recover from Sudan, I found myself back in many meetings discussing the piping system for the bore hole and the launch of the garden and fruit tree orchards.  As I have mentioned a few times, things simply move a whole lot slower here than I am used to, but we are really getting there.  The shamba (garden) is completed and the vegetables are planted according to the rotation plan we devised.  It is a good thing we got the bore hole in and working because the rains have disappeared again for the past couple weeks, and no one knows if or when they will return this season.  I remain optimistic, though mostly ignorant, and am hoping and praying with all I have that we do not see a similar drought to the one in 2009.  Two of those in the past three years could be devastating for the people of this area.  My friend from home has been working hard to raise money for the fruit tree seedlings, so we have spent a lot of time completing the measurements and plans for the two orchards which will be planted next month while he is here.  Each time we get another step closer to completing the entire vision of the bore hole, I am blown away by the incredible impact it will have on this community.  While the fruit tree orchard is a few years from full production still, at that time the kids will be able to eat nearly endless fresh fruits from their very own organically grown trees, and will be enjoying fresh homegrown vegetables in the meantime.  Not to mention, the excess that they cannot consume will be sold at the market to help pay for their educations and other living expenses.  It is just amazing to me how much something as simple as access to clean water can transform a community.

Learning to fish the local way on Kokwa Island in Lake Baringo.

Outside of meetings and planning for the projects here, I have visited many different communities, and just spent time with my wonderful family here.  A couple weeks ago, I walked over an hour with all the kids to a theme park called Poa Place on the edge of Eldoret Town.  There are many native plants and animals, a cultural center, and even a couple rides and a swimming pool.  No one went swimming, but all the kids got a chance to go on a ride - either jumping on a trampoline or riding a merry-go-round - and we then enjoyed a picnic lunch of bread, soda, and a mango.  It was such a fun day, though I am embarrassed to admit how tired to round trip walk made me.  We were also taken on a day trip to Lake Baringo and Lake Bogoria, neighboring fresh and salt water lakes, respectively, down in the Great Rift Valley.  We went for a boat ride on Lake Baringo, viewing crocodiles and hippos on our way to an island that is home to Kenya’s second smallest tribe, with only 570 residents.  The island was really beautiful and full of friendly people.  After a few hours at Lake Baringo, we traveled about an hour to Lake Bogoria, which is home to hundreds of thousands of flamingoes and natural saltwater hot springs.  We took some eggs to boil in the springs for lunch and then set out to see some animals in a sort of abbreviated safari.  After chasing a herd of zebras and gazelle on foot, I spent most of the rest of our time there trying my hardest to outsmart and chase down gazelles, antelope, and warthogs, all to no avail.  While exhausting and very entertaining for me and the Africans I was with, this experience also made me realize how tough it must be daily for predators that rely on successfully hunting other animals for survival, and left me very thankful I do not fit into that category.  A few days after that outing, I found myself back in Kapkokwon, the village that hosted us for the evening of failed hunting a couple months ago, which everyone in the village wanted to remind us of.  It seemed that some stories had gotten mixed up somewhere along the way, leading some people to believe that not only did we miss the rabbit we were hunting, but that we were scared and ran from it.  During the ceremony to open a mango export project for the community farmer’s group, I took a few seconds of my speech to set them straight.  As part of the ceremony, we were also entertained by the Turuturu traditional dancers, and were even escorted to the front to join them in the dances, much to the delight and amusement of all the guests and school children.  I am far from an accomplished dancer, falling victim to the stereotypical white man’s lack of rhythm, but I have to say I think I almost kept up with the group.  No matter how silly I looked, I enjoyed bobbing, twisting, and jumping with the real dancers.

 Doing the traditional Kalenjin jumping dance with the Turuturu dancers in Kapkokwon.

As I settle in for the busyness and intensity of the next 2 ½ months on this continent, I am finding myself very thankful for all the people I am getting to know and all the lessons I am learning.  I have always noticed how amazing the connections and wisdom gained are when you take the initiative and courage to step outside of yourself and your world to really experience and learn about other people and their worlds.  This concept has been proven day in and day out during the last four months, along with one other lesson.  I have noticed in most development projects I have been involved with the tendency for the donor side to position themselves as the savior, of sorts.  They seem to look at the participants as people who need help, and themselves as people with all the answers and resources.  I certainly have seen myself taking to this frame of mind in the past, though I would never look at myself as someone with all the answers.  Recently I have been really struck by the need for donors and development workers to spend time with potential participants first as simply people like themselves.  We are all people and we all have the same needs and problems, manifested in infinitely different and changing ways based on our own complex situations.  The man I came here to spend so much time with this year, who I consider a close friend and a mentor when it comes to life and community development, has been driving this point home to me very much lately, both in word and action.  When I think about all of my valuable and healthy personal and business relationships back home, not a single one was initiated by one side intending to simply give something to the other.  They all began due to circumstances of an even playing field, and have all grown with mutual respect and understanding as their nourishment.  I think I have been applying that same operation in the work I do in the field subconsciously for the most part – I don’t think I really know how to operate any other way, thankfully - but now I have begun to consciously pay attention to it and make real efforts to make sure I stay within that territory.  As I sat in a meeting with two elders yesterday discussing future involvement in South Sudan, that became the theme of our conversation.  I do not want to ever see anyone here as a needy African; I want to see them all as people just like me, people with needs, wants, dreams, shortcomings, failures, joys, and sorrows.  That is the only way I will ever develop any type of meaningful relationship with anyone, and ultimately the only way I can help the people here with their tangible needs, and they with my intangible needs.  There is a song I love by a guy about my age I met in Oregon a couple years ago, named Sam Martin.  The song is called “We Are All The Same.”  It is beautiful and all about this idea – I suggest you give it a listen.  On that note, let me sign off here so I can go make chapati and hang out with the kids before lunch.  I am sending peace and love from Africa to wherever you are, and please be good to yourselves and those around you.