Subtitle: In honor of Valentine's Day; the mother of all non- holidays.
I know that Valentine's Day was actually yesterday, but the internet has been down for a few days, so I'm a bit late. Oh well...
My host mum can frequently be heard starting sentences with the above phrase. "Kelsey" she'll say, "you'll never get an African husband unless you can cook ugali!" Or, "Kelsey, you'll never get an African husband unless you stop spilling the chai!" Or, "Kelsey, you'll never get an African husband unless you can get those socks cleaner!" Okay, wait, this makes it sound like I'm treated like a house girl (servant) here - which couldn't be further from the truth. Mostly my family scarcely lets me lift a finger around the house, although I do insist on doing my own laundry and I'm getting pretty good at this whole washing by hand thing. The issue of me lacking a husband however tends to come up with pretty reliable regularity, both at home and at the hospital.
At home, my host mother is mostly joking about my poor chances of obtaining an African husband - mostly joking. She has a pretty good sense of humor, yet I sense her comments are at least a little bit based in genuine concern. What's not to be a little concerned about? A 24 year old woman insistent on wandering the globe and not actively looking for a husband - the biological clock is ticking and my domestic skills are still noticeably lacking.
I suppose it's understandable, afterall, most of teh women I see in the pre-natal clinic and maternity ward are around my age and having a baby - usually not their first either. And considering the average life expectancy for women in Kenya is 47 years my time is really running short if I want to raise my children, not just bear them. Editor's note: The life expectancy in Kenya has been drastically reduced because of the effects of HIV/AIDS, without which it is estimated the average life expectancy would be 62. To assume therefore that women over 47 are rare would be a fallacy.
At the hospital, there seems to be a lot more curiosity. One day two of teh nurses cornered me wanting to know if in Canada "women marry" or "women are married". It took a while for me to distinguish the difference. Apperently in Kenya women are married while men marry; the difference being that men are to be the initiators and more importantly, the payers of dowry. Dowry is important and in fact, if a man can't afford the dowry they can marry anyway, but he must announce himself to the woman's family as "the one who has stolen your sheep". He will be known as the thief until the debt is settled. I tried to explain that in Canada both men and women marry - ie: it is more of a mutual agreement or partnership. "But then, who pays the dowry?" They ask, looking slightly scandalized.
Yesterday at work, they really wanted to know if I would prefer a Kenyan husband or a white husband (don't get me started on how I tried to convince them that those are not necessarily opposing adjectives). This led to a thrilling conversation about gender roles and whether or not men should set foot in the kitchen. When I told them I could remember my father cooking meals, helping around the house and taking care of me when I was sick as a child (which usually meant an unnatural amoun of Vicks) they were very surprised. "Mother is everything!" They stated adamantly, as their only reply. "Mother is EVERYTHING!"
To be fair, my globe-trotting, husband evading ways do cause some concern in Canada as well. I'm not sure my grandmother necessarily want me married and pregnant, but I know she would sleep easier if I were safely back in Canada. And there were more than a few conversations in Lac La Biche about finding me a husband, preferably a local boy. It seems that both in Kenya and in Canada there is an understanding of the normal course of a life, and when you veer off that course, you're bound to attract a bit of attention. In Canada I think people are becoming a bit more accustomed to there being variations in that course, whereas here, the pattern is quite ingrained.
Valentine's Day itself here is a rather curious celebration of Westernization which has only really been recognized in Kenya in the last few years. It mostly showed up here as a side effect of the Kenyan flower industry which supplies most of the roses to Britain and continental Europe. Just as most of Canada's flowers come from central American countries. While there are a few displays of roses and chocolates in the supermarkets, I have yet to see an actual Kenyan showing any interest in celebrating. Most of them can't even say "Valentine's". Although it did seem to be an excuse for everyone from the guy at the post office to the teller at the market to ask me to be their Valentine.
Valentine's Day or not, I don't think it very likely that I will ever get an African husband, well at least not a Kenyan husband. I couldn't care less about skin colour, I just think it unlikely that I would find a Kenyan man who shares my goals, hopes, values and ideals. When cultures are so wildly different, how could two people cross such a massive rift without one or both of them feeling that they have compromised too much of who they are? I suppose it could happen, but I'm not holding my breath.
Friday, February 15, 2008
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
The Road to Mombasa...
Nina mtalii... that is, I am a tourist. At least, this last weekend I was a tourist; a full out camera toting, English speaking, restaurant critiquing tourist. It's not that there's anything wrong with being a tourist (in fact at the moment, tourists are rather rare here owing to all the violence, which means most of the tourism industry is hurting and tourists are pretty much treated like royalty). But still, it feels a bit funny to abandon all my cares in Ngong and retreat off for a not-really-all-that-well-deserved break (afterall, aren't I sort of already on a break). So that means, this blog entry really won't be very interesting at all, I have no inspiring or intriguing tales of health care or cultural differences in Kenya, only a few funny stories about being a tourist. C'est la vie!
We (being myself and three other volunteers; Cameron, Crystal and Christina, the same group I went up Mt. Kenya with) headed out to Mombasa on Friday evening via the oh so scary night bus. The bus is oh so scary partly because it is at night and we have all heard the horror stories about the night time hijackings and robberies on the road to Mombasa; it is partly scary because it means we have to wander through lower Nairobi after dark to get to the bus station, something we have been throughly warned not to do; and it is partly scary because the road to Mombasa is not so much a road as it is a clearing of the brush that may be wide enough for a motorbike, but certainly doesn't look wide enough for a coach, let along the fact that it is supposedly a two lane highway! But such is Africa! Our bus was not hijacked (apperently that warning applies more to cars); and wandering through lower Nairobi was an exhilarating experience complete with advances from drunks and at least half an hour of wandering around lost until I was brave enough to try my Swahili to ask for directions ("sasa, sister, Accra road, iko wapi?" "kwanza kushoto, moja kwa moja, asante"); and the dirt road brought us to Mombasa hungery, sweaty, tired and covered in a thick layer of grime, but otherwise unscathed.
We arrived in Mombasa at 5:17 am, with call to prayer echoing through the still deserted streets of this predominantly Muslim coastal town. I found the atmosphere quite exciting and exotic (as most Westerners with romantic, dark continent complexes probably do), although in reality, Mombasa is really just a smaller version of Nairobi - painfully industrial, chaotic and hectic, visually unappealing and really fairly grimy. Apperently the town was given a facelift last year from the Mombasa marathon (buildings refinished, roads resurfaced, new street signs) but the visual effects only lasted a few months and even the residents are again complaining of Mombasa's unattractiveness.
We actually stayed about 30 kilometers south of Mombasa at Diana beach which required about an hour's matatu ride and a trip on the chaotic Likoni ferry. The ferry, which although free, is slightly treacherous as it groans in a very unreassuring way and is known as a bag snatching hotspot. It is packed with locals on their way to work and we were quite surely the only white people - leading to sea of faces staring at us suspiciously (apperently the tourists don't take the ferry on foot, they take taxis or hire boats, of course the usual tourists here are rich Brits with more money than they know what to do with). I liked the ferry though, it was exciting, with the salt air replacing the grime of the road on our faces.
We stayed in a really great backpackers guesthouse called Stilts (as recommended by countless other volunteers). Stilts is named such because all the buildings are on stilts to lift them up into the tree canopy where the breeze blows and keeps to keep you cool at night (which is a blessing since Mombasa is much hotter and more humid than Nairobi). Of course being up in the trees means you are also up with the monkeys... which both we and the monkeys find wildly entertaining. We were cautioned to hide our food carefully as the cabins are pretty much open and the monkeys are "seriously smart"... but of course no matter how carefully we hid our food under our piles of clothes, we returned to our rooms to find our belongings everywhere and our chocolate bars just empty wrappers on the floor. Somewhere out there, there are monkeys getting very fat on Cadbury's.
Our accomodation was just a few hundred meters from the white sand beach and clear blue waters of the Indian Ocean. Not being a fan of the ocean myself (it's out to get me, I'm sure) I was mostly content to hang out on the beach... of course I'm also guilty of getting bored easily, so after about an hour of sun bathing, Cameron and I decided to walk out to the sand bar ("it doesn't look that far" we assured ourselves). Hours later, we made it back to the shore; we never actually reached the sand bar but we did step on about sixty sea urchins (there are still quills in my foot), get wildly sunburnt, almost drown in the rising tide and I managed to destroy a huge chunk of coral with my foot which is now a pussing cellulitis on my right ankle. It was still a good adventure and we saw lots of interesting sea creatures like starfish and jellyfish and crabs and snails, but like I said, the ocean is out to get me.
The next time we went to the beach we wised up and rented a dhow (a traditional hollow canoe with a sail) and the accompanying locals to sail us out to the sand bar. This is really the way to go. For a couple dollars three friendly (often singing) guys sailed us around the open water for a while, then took us to the sand bar where we relaxed, went snorkeling (more crazy kinds of fish than I saw in Cuba even!) pestered the local fishermen with questions and explored the less treacherous coral reef. It was a lovely day!
We also made an excursion into Mombasa to visit Haller park; a former cement quarry that has been converted into a nature walk and conservation park. We were toured around and told all sorts of interesting facts about the flora and fauna. It was so good to see that conservation and the environment are also on the minds of Kenyans, especially considering these are areas that often fall by the way side in developing countries where immediate needs can often be more pressing. At the park we saw giraffes, tortises, hippos, antelope, buffalo, crocodiles and heaps of different birds, snakes and reptiles. Feeding time for the crocodiles was particularily exciting with them leaping out of the water to catch hunks of meat dangling from a rope.
Of course the highlight of Haller park is Maizee and Owen... the world famous ancient tortise/baby hippo couple that made headlines after the Owen the hippo, orphaned and rescued from the sea after the tsunami adopted Maizee the tortise as his surrogate mother. Maizee is actually the anglisized name; the real tortise doesn't have a name as the park only keeps them to maintain the lawns and they called the tortise Mzee to the media, which just means "old person". Anyway, the two aren't together any more as Owen finally wised up to the fact that he is a hippo not a tortise and he is now living with the other hippos; still a cute story.
Well, after another throughly enjoyable trip down the road back to Nairobi (this time slightly worse as we travelled during the day and the heat/humidity was aweful) I am safely back in Ngong and back to work at the hospital. My tourist break was really more tiring than refreshing but still, I'm glad to have seen more of the country.
Kelsey Aaron
We (being myself and three other volunteers; Cameron, Crystal and Christina, the same group I went up Mt. Kenya with) headed out to Mombasa on Friday evening via the oh so scary night bus. The bus is oh so scary partly because it is at night and we have all heard the horror stories about the night time hijackings and robberies on the road to Mombasa; it is partly scary because it means we have to wander through lower Nairobi after dark to get to the bus station, something we have been throughly warned not to do; and it is partly scary because the road to Mombasa is not so much a road as it is a clearing of the brush that may be wide enough for a motorbike, but certainly doesn't look wide enough for a coach, let along the fact that it is supposedly a two lane highway! But such is Africa! Our bus was not hijacked (apperently that warning applies more to cars); and wandering through lower Nairobi was an exhilarating experience complete with advances from drunks and at least half an hour of wandering around lost until I was brave enough to try my Swahili to ask for directions ("sasa, sister, Accra road, iko wapi?" "kwanza kushoto, moja kwa moja, asante"); and the dirt road brought us to Mombasa hungery, sweaty, tired and covered in a thick layer of grime, but otherwise unscathed.
We arrived in Mombasa at 5:17 am, with call to prayer echoing through the still deserted streets of this predominantly Muslim coastal town. I found the atmosphere quite exciting and exotic (as most Westerners with romantic, dark continent complexes probably do), although in reality, Mombasa is really just a smaller version of Nairobi - painfully industrial, chaotic and hectic, visually unappealing and really fairly grimy. Apperently the town was given a facelift last year from the Mombasa marathon (buildings refinished, roads resurfaced, new street signs) but the visual effects only lasted a few months and even the residents are again complaining of Mombasa's unattractiveness.
We actually stayed about 30 kilometers south of Mombasa at Diana beach which required about an hour's matatu ride and a trip on the chaotic Likoni ferry. The ferry, which although free, is slightly treacherous as it groans in a very unreassuring way and is known as a bag snatching hotspot. It is packed with locals on their way to work and we were quite surely the only white people - leading to sea of faces staring at us suspiciously (apperently the tourists don't take the ferry on foot, they take taxis or hire boats, of course the usual tourists here are rich Brits with more money than they know what to do with). I liked the ferry though, it was exciting, with the salt air replacing the grime of the road on our faces.
We stayed in a really great backpackers guesthouse called Stilts (as recommended by countless other volunteers). Stilts is named such because all the buildings are on stilts to lift them up into the tree canopy where the breeze blows and keeps to keep you cool at night (which is a blessing since Mombasa is much hotter and more humid than Nairobi). Of course being up in the trees means you are also up with the monkeys... which both we and the monkeys find wildly entertaining. We were cautioned to hide our food carefully as the cabins are pretty much open and the monkeys are "seriously smart"... but of course no matter how carefully we hid our food under our piles of clothes, we returned to our rooms to find our belongings everywhere and our chocolate bars just empty wrappers on the floor. Somewhere out there, there are monkeys getting very fat on Cadbury's.
Our accomodation was just a few hundred meters from the white sand beach and clear blue waters of the Indian Ocean. Not being a fan of the ocean myself (it's out to get me, I'm sure) I was mostly content to hang out on the beach... of course I'm also guilty of getting bored easily, so after about an hour of sun bathing, Cameron and I decided to walk out to the sand bar ("it doesn't look that far" we assured ourselves). Hours later, we made it back to the shore; we never actually reached the sand bar but we did step on about sixty sea urchins (there are still quills in my foot), get wildly sunburnt, almost drown in the rising tide and I managed to destroy a huge chunk of coral with my foot which is now a pussing cellulitis on my right ankle. It was still a good adventure and we saw lots of interesting sea creatures like starfish and jellyfish and crabs and snails, but like I said, the ocean is out to get me.
The next time we went to the beach we wised up and rented a dhow (a traditional hollow canoe with a sail) and the accompanying locals to sail us out to the sand bar. This is really the way to go. For a couple dollars three friendly (often singing) guys sailed us around the open water for a while, then took us to the sand bar where we relaxed, went snorkeling (more crazy kinds of fish than I saw in Cuba even!) pestered the local fishermen with questions and explored the less treacherous coral reef. It was a lovely day!
We also made an excursion into Mombasa to visit Haller park; a former cement quarry that has been converted into a nature walk and conservation park. We were toured around and told all sorts of interesting facts about the flora and fauna. It was so good to see that conservation and the environment are also on the minds of Kenyans, especially considering these are areas that often fall by the way side in developing countries where immediate needs can often be more pressing. At the park we saw giraffes, tortises, hippos, antelope, buffalo, crocodiles and heaps of different birds, snakes and reptiles. Feeding time for the crocodiles was particularily exciting with them leaping out of the water to catch hunks of meat dangling from a rope.
Of course the highlight of Haller park is Maizee and Owen... the world famous ancient tortise/baby hippo couple that made headlines after the Owen the hippo, orphaned and rescued from the sea after the tsunami adopted Maizee the tortise as his surrogate mother. Maizee is actually the anglisized name; the real tortise doesn't have a name as the park only keeps them to maintain the lawns and they called the tortise Mzee to the media, which just means "old person". Anyway, the two aren't together any more as Owen finally wised up to the fact that he is a hippo not a tortise and he is now living with the other hippos; still a cute story.
Well, after another throughly enjoyable trip down the road back to Nairobi (this time slightly worse as we travelled during the day and the heat/humidity was aweful) I am safely back in Ngong and back to work at the hospital. My tourist break was really more tiring than refreshing but still, I'm glad to have seen more of the country.
Kelsey Aaron
Friday, February 8, 2008
Blog Comments
I believe I have fixed the comment issue that a few of you had raised (ie: it wouldn't let you post comments unless you had a google account). At any rate, you should be able to comment freely now... and I would love to hear your comments, so please, go nuts!
Maternal Madness
Back in Lac La Biche, I used to do everything possible to avoid having anything to do with labour and delivery. It's not that it's not a throughly interesting area of nursing, it's just that labouring women freak me out! Seriously, they're crazy, they have every right to be so, but they're crazy nonetheless. Every time a lady would come to my desk and pronounce "I think I'm having my baby" a little shiver would run up my spine.
Here in Ngong, nurses do all the deliveries (they are shocked to find out doctors or midwives do deliveries in Canada). Apperently they have also trained the cleaning ladies to deliver babies, just incase the nurse is busy (busy doing what???) Of course they only handle uncomplicated deliveries here, usually only women who have had at least one baby previously. The closest hospital which can handle complicated deliveres and c-sections is Kenyatta National Hospital, about an hour away by car - but there's no ambulance so women must find their own way there, even if it means taking a taxi.
It has been maternity madness here this week - they just keep coming! I delivered my first baby on Wednesday (I did the whole delivery, start to finish, pretty impressive?) I'm not sure how the mother felt about haing the somewhat flustered looking muzungu delivering her baby, but the nurses were pretty excited - by lunch the news was all over the hospital and people were congratulating me on my initiation to midwifery. The whole delivery was a bit chaotic actually, 2 nurses shouting directions at me in English and at the lady in Swahili. I learned two very important Swahili phrases: "PUSH" and "It's a girl!"
Labour seems to be a very different experience here than in Canada. Women in labour here are very stoic, most are silent, many scarcely make a grimace with even the strongest contractions. I have no doubt they are feeling the same pains as women in Canada, it's just that the reaction is so different. There isn't even any pain control available to women here (unless they choose to deliver in a National Hospital, at a much greater cost). The nurses have a very different approach as well - of course I can't be sure as it's all in Swahili, but it sounds like they're just yelling at the women. And they punch them in the knees alot; I'm not sure what that's all about, but it doesn't appear very encouraging or sensitive.
I suppose the whole idea around birth is just completely different. Women usually come with their mother and maybe one other female family member, the husbands are rarely even at the hospital. And when the child is born, the mothers never seem that eager to hold it or anything. Most women are anxious to leave the hospital as soon as possible, they are up and showered and dressed and ready to go before I've even finished weighing and cleaning the baby. They are encouraged to stay 24 hours, but most don't.
Reactions to everything (the birth of the child, the sex of the child, everything) are just never what I expect here. The other day there was a baby born with a pretty serious birth defect. Of course, birth defects also happen in Canada - forming a human being from two cells is a pretty complicated process and there are about a million things that can go wrong. The difference is that in Canada, the defect would likely have been detected by ultrasound, the lady would have delivered in a major hospital and the child taken immediately to surgery. Here it was a complete shock. The child was born and the nurse, with a rather frightened expression on her face, whispered, "what is it?" "I've never seen it before" I whispered back. Then she told me to take the child to the next room so the mother wouldn't see it. I could still hear the calls of "praise Jehovah God" from the woman's family while I whisked the child away. I completed my assessment of the baby and finally the nurse brought the family into the room saying "come and see the way God has made the child". We referred teh baby to Kenyatta hospital, wrapping it up carefully while the family procured a ride - the mother never even saw the defect.
It was all a very surreal experience. As much as I avoided labour and delivery before, I now find it so fascinating, and see it as an area where good health care can really make such a difference. I work so much here in all areas of maternal wellbeing, from prenatal clinic, to well child clinics and immunizations. Women are the so receptive to health care and most are so keen to give their child the best chance they can. I'm finding myself more an more interested in the entire area of women and children's health.
Well, I am off to Mombasa this weekend to soak up the sun... should be a lovely weekend.
Kelsey Aaron
Here in Ngong, nurses do all the deliveries (they are shocked to find out doctors or midwives do deliveries in Canada). Apperently they have also trained the cleaning ladies to deliver babies, just incase the nurse is busy (busy doing what???) Of course they only handle uncomplicated deliveries here, usually only women who have had at least one baby previously. The closest hospital which can handle complicated deliveres and c-sections is Kenyatta National Hospital, about an hour away by car - but there's no ambulance so women must find their own way there, even if it means taking a taxi.
It has been maternity madness here this week - they just keep coming! I delivered my first baby on Wednesday (I did the whole delivery, start to finish, pretty impressive?) I'm not sure how the mother felt about haing the somewhat flustered looking muzungu delivering her baby, but the nurses were pretty excited - by lunch the news was all over the hospital and people were congratulating me on my initiation to midwifery. The whole delivery was a bit chaotic actually, 2 nurses shouting directions at me in English and at the lady in Swahili. I learned two very important Swahili phrases: "PUSH" and "It's a girl!"
Labour seems to be a very different experience here than in Canada. Women in labour here are very stoic, most are silent, many scarcely make a grimace with even the strongest contractions. I have no doubt they are feeling the same pains as women in Canada, it's just that the reaction is so different. There isn't even any pain control available to women here (unless they choose to deliver in a National Hospital, at a much greater cost). The nurses have a very different approach as well - of course I can't be sure as it's all in Swahili, but it sounds like they're just yelling at the women. And they punch them in the knees alot; I'm not sure what that's all about, but it doesn't appear very encouraging or sensitive.
I suppose the whole idea around birth is just completely different. Women usually come with their mother and maybe one other female family member, the husbands are rarely even at the hospital. And when the child is born, the mothers never seem that eager to hold it or anything. Most women are anxious to leave the hospital as soon as possible, they are up and showered and dressed and ready to go before I've even finished weighing and cleaning the baby. They are encouraged to stay 24 hours, but most don't.
Reactions to everything (the birth of the child, the sex of the child, everything) are just never what I expect here. The other day there was a baby born with a pretty serious birth defect. Of course, birth defects also happen in Canada - forming a human being from two cells is a pretty complicated process and there are about a million things that can go wrong. The difference is that in Canada, the defect would likely have been detected by ultrasound, the lady would have delivered in a major hospital and the child taken immediately to surgery. Here it was a complete shock. The child was born and the nurse, with a rather frightened expression on her face, whispered, "what is it?" "I've never seen it before" I whispered back. Then she told me to take the child to the next room so the mother wouldn't see it. I could still hear the calls of "praise Jehovah God" from the woman's family while I whisked the child away. I completed my assessment of the baby and finally the nurse brought the family into the room saying "come and see the way God has made the child". We referred teh baby to Kenyatta hospital, wrapping it up carefully while the family procured a ride - the mother never even saw the defect.
It was all a very surreal experience. As much as I avoided labour and delivery before, I now find it so fascinating, and see it as an area where good health care can really make such a difference. I work so much here in all areas of maternal wellbeing, from prenatal clinic, to well child clinics and immunizations. Women are the so receptive to health care and most are so keen to give their child the best chance they can. I'm finding myself more an more interested in the entire area of women and children's health.
Well, I am off to Mombasa this weekend to soak up the sun... should be a lovely weekend.
Kelsey Aaron
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
The Myth of Fingerprints...
So I recieved two wonderful treats today! The first was a surprise text message from my darling Lonestart Claire, the second was a lovely email from my sister... oh you guys love me so much. Anyway, Claire has said that although she is enjoying reading my blog, I haven't mentioned how I am. So, here, is the head to toe Kelsey assessment, just incase you're curious.
Physically I'm quite well, no malaria, no intestinal parasites (that I know of). I got a sore stomach during the first week but I think it was related to the gallons of chai being forced down my throught (they drink chai here about every 2 hours, it is tea made mostly from whole milk). I have told them I'm off the chai now, which means they usually pester me until I take at least a glass or two; but even that is better than six or seven daily, and my stomach seems to have adjusted.
I got a sun burn the other day, which created quite a stir. Grace said to me "sister, you sat in the sun and I was afraid you would turn black, but instead you are red! What happened?" I tried to explain that the sun burns my pale skin, which lead them to insist I cover all skin when ever I left the house. Obviously that is not going to work and I tried to explain the powers of sunscreen and that a little sun is okay, just not too much. Now, every five minutes outside, they are all checking to see if I'm going red yet. They were also pretty amused by pushing on my sunburn to see it go back to white, until I explain that it is a 'burn' and that does hurt.
The awkwardness of being the only muzungu (white person) around, seems to be fading as people in town get more used to seeing me around. Of course there are still days when I'm not in the mood to be stared at, honked at, hissed at, or generally molested to try to get me into a matatu or over to a particular market stall. But those days are fewer than I remember them being when I was in Ghana. When I was in Ghana I found it very emotionally uncomfortable to be so painfully visible; now, although it is sometimes annoying, mostly it's just amusing. I'm pretty impressed with myself for that.
Yesterday I was feeling a little bit homesick, not really bad, just a touch. Me and some other volunteers decided to combat our homesickness with a throughly Western afternoon - we went to the movies (in a lovely air conditioned theatre). For 350 shillings (about $4) we saw "I am Legend" complete with popcorn, pop and a chocolate bar! What a deal! Anyway, I feel much better now (and my lovely sister's email helped too).
I am really enjoying my work at the hospital now; it is so interesting to see their way of doing things and I feel like I am actually a little bit helpful now that I have my bearings. There are so many challenges in providing health care here, and it is a bit hard to negotiate how to help without just telling them what to do. I find it is best to just talk about what is different between here and Canada, most times they are really interested to know about how we do things there.
Even my Swahili is coming along... I can even form simple sentences. Most people find it pretty amusing when I come up with some sentence or another (they are still laughing over when I proclaimed "nimenunua maebe" or "I bought mangoes") It's pretty fun... and if only Scrabulous would let me use swahili words I would be amazing... seriously swahili has so many strings of consonants, it is a great scrabble language.
Overall, I'm doing very well. I'm learning so much and loving living here. I have been thinking occasionally about what I'm going to do when I get back to Canada, and so far I have no answers. I have been hoping that coming to Kenya would help me decide what I should be when I grow up.... but I still have two more months away so I'm not worried. Besides, I don't need any concrete answers, just some general ideas would be nice.
That's it for now,
Kelsey Aaron
Physically I'm quite well, no malaria, no intestinal parasites (that I know of). I got a sore stomach during the first week but I think it was related to the gallons of chai being forced down my throught (they drink chai here about every 2 hours, it is tea made mostly from whole milk). I have told them I'm off the chai now, which means they usually pester me until I take at least a glass or two; but even that is better than six or seven daily, and my stomach seems to have adjusted.
I got a sun burn the other day, which created quite a stir. Grace said to me "sister, you sat in the sun and I was afraid you would turn black, but instead you are red! What happened?" I tried to explain that the sun burns my pale skin, which lead them to insist I cover all skin when ever I left the house. Obviously that is not going to work and I tried to explain the powers of sunscreen and that a little sun is okay, just not too much. Now, every five minutes outside, they are all checking to see if I'm going red yet. They were also pretty amused by pushing on my sunburn to see it go back to white, until I explain that it is a 'burn' and that does hurt.
The awkwardness of being the only muzungu (white person) around, seems to be fading as people in town get more used to seeing me around. Of course there are still days when I'm not in the mood to be stared at, honked at, hissed at, or generally molested to try to get me into a matatu or over to a particular market stall. But those days are fewer than I remember them being when I was in Ghana. When I was in Ghana I found it very emotionally uncomfortable to be so painfully visible; now, although it is sometimes annoying, mostly it's just amusing. I'm pretty impressed with myself for that.
Yesterday I was feeling a little bit homesick, not really bad, just a touch. Me and some other volunteers decided to combat our homesickness with a throughly Western afternoon - we went to the movies (in a lovely air conditioned theatre). For 350 shillings (about $4) we saw "I am Legend" complete with popcorn, pop and a chocolate bar! What a deal! Anyway, I feel much better now (and my lovely sister's email helped too).
I am really enjoying my work at the hospital now; it is so interesting to see their way of doing things and I feel like I am actually a little bit helpful now that I have my bearings. There are so many challenges in providing health care here, and it is a bit hard to negotiate how to help without just telling them what to do. I find it is best to just talk about what is different between here and Canada, most times they are really interested to know about how we do things there.
Even my Swahili is coming along... I can even form simple sentences. Most people find it pretty amusing when I come up with some sentence or another (they are still laughing over when I proclaimed "nimenunua maebe" or "I bought mangoes") It's pretty fun... and if only Scrabulous would let me use swahili words I would be amazing... seriously swahili has so many strings of consonants, it is a great scrabble language.
Overall, I'm doing very well. I'm learning so much and loving living here. I have been thinking occasionally about what I'm going to do when I get back to Canada, and so far I have no answers. I have been hoping that coming to Kenya would help me decide what I should be when I grow up.... but I still have two more months away so I'm not worried. Besides, I don't need any concrete answers, just some general ideas would be nice.
That's it for now,
Kelsey Aaron
Sunday, February 3, 2008
Religion and Conflict
The other day Grace caught me humming some bible song I learned at camp... she was thrilled that I knew a Church song and made me sing it for here at least a few times through. The she started quizzing me about what other songs I knew and I ended up singing a bunch of my camp repetoire for her. Finally she asked how I knew so many Church songs since I had said I don't go to Church, I responded by saying I learned them at camp. She looked confused and asked what I was doing at a camp. I said playing and hanging out and such... this led to more confusion. It took us at least five minutes to figure out that when I said "camp" I meant a fun place to hang out and ride horses and have life changing experiencs. When she said camp, she meant a refugee camp. Quite a difference!
It is Sunday morning now and my host family is at church, which I declined to attend with them. I went the first weekend I was here, mostly out of curiosity and politeness, but I really don't think I can make it a weekly occurance. It makes me uncomfortable; to be fair though, Church in Canada also makes me uncomfortable, just in entirely different ways.
I have tried to explain the state of religion in Canada, but it doesn't seem to make any sense to most Kenyans I meet. I say that many people are religious, but that often we don't really discuss it outside of a religious group or gathering. It's not something you would ask in everyday conversation. But why not? "It's just different", I say, it's not something that's really important to know about a person. Then I try to explain that some people aren't religious at all. They really cannot grasp the idea of atheism no matter how hard I try to explain it. And the idea that some people are neither religious nor anti-religious, just that religion and God are not really important to them one way or the other, is a complete mind blower. How can God not be important?
Religion is very obvious here. As with much of Africa, Kenya has been throughly missionized and the vast majority of the country is Christian or Muslim, with a scattering of Sikhs, Hindus and those who follow their traditional beliefs. Most people seem very eager for me to declare myself as a Christian or Muslim. They don't seem to have a catagory for quasi-excommunicated Catholic, non-Christian Believer. I guess neither does Canada really, but in Canada people are much less likely to demand that you declare your religion at all. After telling many people at the hospital here that I believe in God but don't go to Church they looked at my with what looked like great suspicion. Finally one lady (a Muslim) asked if I knew how to pray. I told her that yes, I was pretty sure I did, and that seemed to satisfy everyone.
Then I went to Church with my host family, the Presbyterian Church of East Africa (PCEA). Two hours of my life ticked away while we sang hopelessly simplistic songs about the power of God. Then the praying started, led by "the evangelist" who stood at the front and prayed for nearly half an hour. This wasn't just speaking words to the air, for him it was a fully-body experience. He was shouting, whispering, gasping, raising his hands, falling to the ground, stumbling around, jumping, panting, reaching, punching. And all the while the congregation responded with shouts and amens and equal intensity. Okay, so maybe I don't know how to pray.
I am also slightly confused by the interactions between the political landscape and religion. Every weekend on the news, there are clips of various politicians, from both parties, attending services all over the country and speaking passionate sermons for peace to the congregation. Last week the news showed a clip of a mob of young men blockading a road and destroying a vehicle all the while shouting "God give us peace". Prayer here seems to be so "needs" based, which is understandable when often your basic needs are your sole daily work... but how do you sustain a faith that seems to constantly fall short. When you shout for God to give you peace and He doesn't, why keep shouting?
Perhaps I am seeing this all far too simplistically, afterall, how can I say that God is not meeting needs, when my Western idea of "needs" is so extravagant? And certainly there is something to be said for faith in spite of hardship. But still, I'm uncomfortable with religion here, with the way it was thrust onto people by missionaries, with the way it continues to be a source of hope without appearing to be a source of growth. This is absolutely a judgement on my part, and quite likely unfair, but it is what I see. It seems as though religion here is still about power being out of the hands of the people. Everyday people still need to ask to be provided for; like religion is simply the lingering effects of colonization, a colonization of peoples' spirits.
I hear that the preaching from the Church next door has stopped, people will be filing out into the grounds to talk and laugh with friends. I should probably head home to have lunch with my family.
Kelsey Aaron
It is Sunday morning now and my host family is at church, which I declined to attend with them. I went the first weekend I was here, mostly out of curiosity and politeness, but I really don't think I can make it a weekly occurance. It makes me uncomfortable; to be fair though, Church in Canada also makes me uncomfortable, just in entirely different ways.
I have tried to explain the state of religion in Canada, but it doesn't seem to make any sense to most Kenyans I meet. I say that many people are religious, but that often we don't really discuss it outside of a religious group or gathering. It's not something you would ask in everyday conversation. But why not? "It's just different", I say, it's not something that's really important to know about a person. Then I try to explain that some people aren't religious at all. They really cannot grasp the idea of atheism no matter how hard I try to explain it. And the idea that some people are neither religious nor anti-religious, just that religion and God are not really important to them one way or the other, is a complete mind blower. How can God not be important?
Religion is very obvious here. As with much of Africa, Kenya has been throughly missionized and the vast majority of the country is Christian or Muslim, with a scattering of Sikhs, Hindus and those who follow their traditional beliefs. Most people seem very eager for me to declare myself as a Christian or Muslim. They don't seem to have a catagory for quasi-excommunicated Catholic, non-Christian Believer. I guess neither does Canada really, but in Canada people are much less likely to demand that you declare your religion at all. After telling many people at the hospital here that I believe in God but don't go to Church they looked at my with what looked like great suspicion. Finally one lady (a Muslim) asked if I knew how to pray. I told her that yes, I was pretty sure I did, and that seemed to satisfy everyone.
Then I went to Church with my host family, the Presbyterian Church of East Africa (PCEA). Two hours of my life ticked away while we sang hopelessly simplistic songs about the power of God. Then the praying started, led by "the evangelist" who stood at the front and prayed for nearly half an hour. This wasn't just speaking words to the air, for him it was a fully-body experience. He was shouting, whispering, gasping, raising his hands, falling to the ground, stumbling around, jumping, panting, reaching, punching. And all the while the congregation responded with shouts and amens and equal intensity. Okay, so maybe I don't know how to pray.
I am also slightly confused by the interactions between the political landscape and religion. Every weekend on the news, there are clips of various politicians, from both parties, attending services all over the country and speaking passionate sermons for peace to the congregation. Last week the news showed a clip of a mob of young men blockading a road and destroying a vehicle all the while shouting "God give us peace". Prayer here seems to be so "needs" based, which is understandable when often your basic needs are your sole daily work... but how do you sustain a faith that seems to constantly fall short. When you shout for God to give you peace and He doesn't, why keep shouting?
Perhaps I am seeing this all far too simplistically, afterall, how can I say that God is not meeting needs, when my Western idea of "needs" is so extravagant? And certainly there is something to be said for faith in spite of hardship. But still, I'm uncomfortable with religion here, with the way it was thrust onto people by missionaries, with the way it continues to be a source of hope without appearing to be a source of growth. This is absolutely a judgement on my part, and quite likely unfair, but it is what I see. It seems as though religion here is still about power being out of the hands of the people. Everyday people still need to ask to be provided for; like religion is simply the lingering effects of colonization, a colonization of peoples' spirits.
I hear that the preaching from the Church next door has stopped, people will be filing out into the grounds to talk and laugh with friends. I should probably head home to have lunch with my family.
Kelsey Aaron
Saturday, February 2, 2008
I Heart Kofi
Well, as you may have noticed, I have been somewhat silent on the topic of the violence happening in Kenya. Although I wouldn't say this has been deliberate, it has definately not been accidental. I think that since I've been here, I've felt like I understand so little of what is happening, that I can't possibly act as a spokesperson to my friends and family back home. Whatever I say, I'm sure to be ommiting some important detail, or neglecting some legitimate point of view.
That said, I am going to try to shed a bit of light on my perspective of the situation... not the CNN version! CNN actually made me so mad right before I left; they continually showed this one clip of this frazzled looking white lady running up the camera, amidst a haze of smoke and undicernable chaos in the background and saying "the word I keep hearing, is RWANDA". What an infuratingly vague clip! It doesn't give any detail about who this white lady is, or what she is doing in Kenya. If she is just some tourist, why are they letting her be the voice to the West? She has no special training or any real concept of what is happening. On the other hand, if she is some expert in some international or humanitarian field, she should be fired because she is clearly an idiot. Either way CNN should not be showing such a sensationalist clip that contains no real info and only serves to inflame the imaginations of ill-informed Westerners.
Okay, the rant is finished, I just had to get that out of my way, now I can speak freely. I suppose I should begin by giving a bit of background about what the conflict is actually about. On December 27, 2007 Kenya held a presidential election. The two main contenders were the incumbent Mwai Kibaki of the PNU party and the opposition, Raila Odinga of the ODM party. Most international observers were calling for this to be a very close race. Politics in Kenya tend to be very racially charged and most people openly admit that they vote along tribal lines. Given that Kenya has 42 tribes, each with distince languges and cultures, that can obviouly get fairly convoluted. Basically Kibaki is a Kikuyu, one of the largest tribes with an estimated 24% of the population. Odinga is a Lua, a smaller tribe that has managed the gain support from numerous smaller tribes around the country based on their unofficial platform of being not Kikuyu.
Back in December the election results were announced somewhat prematurly with the elector commission declaring Kibaki the winner, even though voting irregularities were being reported throughout the country. Kibaki was sworn in quickly and began to name his cabinet before resolving the voting issues, which inflammed people even more. The violence broke out only hours after the result were announced, primarily in very poor areas such as Kibera (a Nairobi slum, said to be the biggest slum in Africa), and Eldoret (a major town in Western Kenya, along the route to Uganda). The violence was being commited along ethnic lines, with primarily mobs of non-Kikuyus attacking their Kikuyu neighbours.
As the violence erupted the government responded by restricting civil liberties, such as placing a ban on live media coverage and restricting the right to peaceful assembly. Because the right to assembly was resricted, the police were called out in large numbers to disperse any gathering, which has lead to frequent clashes especially in the capital. To date the police have not only busted up political assemblies, but also assemblies of religious leaders calling on their followers to promote peace, as well as an assembly of hawkers in the capital who were calling attention to the devastating effect the violence has had on their livelihood.
Most recently, there have been two assassinations of members of the ODM party. The MPs were not particularily powerful players and in fact, the most recent assassination has been blamed on a love triangle rather than the election disputes. The assassinations have however fueled accusations of conspiracy from both main parties. For the last week or so, the PNU and the ODM have been lobbing accusations back and forth that each side actually planned the violence long before the election to aid their own political agendas.
Although the EU and AU have both stated that the election itself did not seem to be free and fair, the violence that is happening now seems to trace to much deeper roots than simply an election dispute. If fact, most international bodies have not begun calling it "racial violence" rather than "political violence" although the media here in Kenya still prefers the term "political violence".
My own perception of the tribal issues is where I become hesitant to say anything - I really have such a limited view point. Even so, I have noticed a few things in my interactions with people. The first is that tribe is so important and all consuming here. Although I can't identify one tribe from another, I have been assured that a Kenyan can - your tribe is written all over you in how you look, how you dress, how you speak, even your name. Most Kenyans don't even really think of themselves as Kenyans first, they associate with their tribe first.
My host family is Kikuyu and I am living in a town with mostly Kikuyus, although at the hospital I work with people from all tribes (they of course feel a need to point out their tribe to me, even though it really means nothing to me, and most of the times I promptly forget it anyway). The Kikuyu people have been described to me (by both Kikuyus themselves and otherwise) as the most enterprising and entrepenurial tribe. A Kikuyu is financially keen and always has an eye out for a money making opportunity. Kikuyus, more than other tribes are willing to relocate to follow the opportunities, which is why you find them not as geographically centralized as the other tribes - there are Kikuyus in every part of the country. For these reasons, the Kikuyus are seen as being more affluent, but also possibly a bit less trustworthy. The deepseated resentment that seems to be among non-Kikuyus here, is that Kikuyus have been unfairly favoured by the government in power. People have stated that roads are built and maintained to Kikuyu towns, but not to Lua towns or Kisii towns. They say the Kikuyus have better water systems and are given land at better rates by goverment sellers. Obviously I have no way to verify these sentiments, but the injustice, real or imagined, seems to be felt by a large part of the population. And the ODM has played on this perception of injustice.
The violence is still isolated to specific pockets around the country. It is almost exculsively carried out by young men (this has been observed by the media, the police and even the new mediation committee that is working on the peace talks). Most Kenyans are frightened themselves and many have expressed to me that they are embarassed by the crisis. As the African dignitaries began entering the country for the mediation process, many people remarked that Kenya is accustomed to sending diplomats to such processes in other countries, not having them come here.
The effects of the violence have already had far reaching consequences. The shilling is slipping on the international market (which doesn't have a huge effect on mosy Kenyans, but has been nice for me I guess as I get a lovely exchange rate). Essential goods have becoming scarece in the interior of the country as most shipping companies have refused to move goods along the highways because trucks have been mobbed and burnt. This shortage is leading to huge inflation in the interior and everyday people cannot afford basic supplies. The railway from the coast to Uganda was partially destroyed in sections in Kibera and the Rift Valley so Uganda is feeling the effects as well on their prices and availablility of goods. Fishing on Lake Victoria has been almost stopped due to instability in the area and fish is now in short supply around the country. A large flower factory in the Rift Valley was evacuated and that industry is suffering as well. Hawkers on the street are suffering as people don't want to come out and spend money, everyone is saving in case of an emergency. But the biggest industry that is suffering is tourism. Kenya was previously one of the premier tourist destinations in East Africa and a huge portion of the economy depended on tourism - which has now almost flattened. Already 30,000 people have lost their jobs in the tourist industry. Hotels along the coast have closed, even street vendors are feeling the effects of the missing muzungus. On the news last night they were talking about how one single tourist, produces eight Kenyan jobs, and now the tourists are almost completely gone.
Kofi Annan arrived last week. Along with Graca Machel and others from the AU panel of Eminent African persons, they will lead the mediation between the two parties. Mr. Annan has announced that the first and foremost goal will be to end the violence, then other issues can be addressed. Already both parties have called on their supporters to end the violence and allow the mediation process time to begin addressing the issues. Although the call to stop the violence was not headed immediately, things seem to have calmed down by the end of this week, and hopefully the weekend will be uneventful (the talks will resume on Monday). Kofi Annan is a brilliant speaker; he speaks so softly and yet his air is one of such confidence and power that his audience is captive from start to finish. I am completely in awe of him. Not everyone seems to share this sentiment though, there have been clips on the news of angry people stating that Kofi Annan should go home, that Kenya needs a Kenyan solution. But many people I speak to personally seem to think that Kofi will get the job done, that his presence is what Kenya needs right now. I hope they are right.
Overally, I am safe, no need to worry about me. But thoughts and prayers for the Kenyan people and the peace process are, I'm sure, very welcome.
Kelsey Aaron
That said, I am going to try to shed a bit of light on my perspective of the situation... not the CNN version! CNN actually made me so mad right before I left; they continually showed this one clip of this frazzled looking white lady running up the camera, amidst a haze of smoke and undicernable chaos in the background and saying "the word I keep hearing, is RWANDA". What an infuratingly vague clip! It doesn't give any detail about who this white lady is, or what she is doing in Kenya. If she is just some tourist, why are they letting her be the voice to the West? She has no special training or any real concept of what is happening. On the other hand, if she is some expert in some international or humanitarian field, she should be fired because she is clearly an idiot. Either way CNN should not be showing such a sensationalist clip that contains no real info and only serves to inflame the imaginations of ill-informed Westerners.
Okay, the rant is finished, I just had to get that out of my way, now I can speak freely. I suppose I should begin by giving a bit of background about what the conflict is actually about. On December 27, 2007 Kenya held a presidential election. The two main contenders were the incumbent Mwai Kibaki of the PNU party and the opposition, Raila Odinga of the ODM party. Most international observers were calling for this to be a very close race. Politics in Kenya tend to be very racially charged and most people openly admit that they vote along tribal lines. Given that Kenya has 42 tribes, each with distince languges and cultures, that can obviouly get fairly convoluted. Basically Kibaki is a Kikuyu, one of the largest tribes with an estimated 24% of the population. Odinga is a Lua, a smaller tribe that has managed the gain support from numerous smaller tribes around the country based on their unofficial platform of being not Kikuyu.
Back in December the election results were announced somewhat prematurly with the elector commission declaring Kibaki the winner, even though voting irregularities were being reported throughout the country. Kibaki was sworn in quickly and began to name his cabinet before resolving the voting issues, which inflammed people even more. The violence broke out only hours after the result were announced, primarily in very poor areas such as Kibera (a Nairobi slum, said to be the biggest slum in Africa), and Eldoret (a major town in Western Kenya, along the route to Uganda). The violence was being commited along ethnic lines, with primarily mobs of non-Kikuyus attacking their Kikuyu neighbours.
As the violence erupted the government responded by restricting civil liberties, such as placing a ban on live media coverage and restricting the right to peaceful assembly. Because the right to assembly was resricted, the police were called out in large numbers to disperse any gathering, which has lead to frequent clashes especially in the capital. To date the police have not only busted up political assemblies, but also assemblies of religious leaders calling on their followers to promote peace, as well as an assembly of hawkers in the capital who were calling attention to the devastating effect the violence has had on their livelihood.
Most recently, there have been two assassinations of members of the ODM party. The MPs were not particularily powerful players and in fact, the most recent assassination has been blamed on a love triangle rather than the election disputes. The assassinations have however fueled accusations of conspiracy from both main parties. For the last week or so, the PNU and the ODM have been lobbing accusations back and forth that each side actually planned the violence long before the election to aid their own political agendas.
Although the EU and AU have both stated that the election itself did not seem to be free and fair, the violence that is happening now seems to trace to much deeper roots than simply an election dispute. If fact, most international bodies have not begun calling it "racial violence" rather than "political violence" although the media here in Kenya still prefers the term "political violence".
My own perception of the tribal issues is where I become hesitant to say anything - I really have such a limited view point. Even so, I have noticed a few things in my interactions with people. The first is that tribe is so important and all consuming here. Although I can't identify one tribe from another, I have been assured that a Kenyan can - your tribe is written all over you in how you look, how you dress, how you speak, even your name. Most Kenyans don't even really think of themselves as Kenyans first, they associate with their tribe first.
My host family is Kikuyu and I am living in a town with mostly Kikuyus, although at the hospital I work with people from all tribes (they of course feel a need to point out their tribe to me, even though it really means nothing to me, and most of the times I promptly forget it anyway). The Kikuyu people have been described to me (by both Kikuyus themselves and otherwise) as the most enterprising and entrepenurial tribe. A Kikuyu is financially keen and always has an eye out for a money making opportunity. Kikuyus, more than other tribes are willing to relocate to follow the opportunities, which is why you find them not as geographically centralized as the other tribes - there are Kikuyus in every part of the country. For these reasons, the Kikuyus are seen as being more affluent, but also possibly a bit less trustworthy. The deepseated resentment that seems to be among non-Kikuyus here, is that Kikuyus have been unfairly favoured by the government in power. People have stated that roads are built and maintained to Kikuyu towns, but not to Lua towns or Kisii towns. They say the Kikuyus have better water systems and are given land at better rates by goverment sellers. Obviously I have no way to verify these sentiments, but the injustice, real or imagined, seems to be felt by a large part of the population. And the ODM has played on this perception of injustice.
The violence is still isolated to specific pockets around the country. It is almost exculsively carried out by young men (this has been observed by the media, the police and even the new mediation committee that is working on the peace talks). Most Kenyans are frightened themselves and many have expressed to me that they are embarassed by the crisis. As the African dignitaries began entering the country for the mediation process, many people remarked that Kenya is accustomed to sending diplomats to such processes in other countries, not having them come here.
The effects of the violence have already had far reaching consequences. The shilling is slipping on the international market (which doesn't have a huge effect on mosy Kenyans, but has been nice for me I guess as I get a lovely exchange rate). Essential goods have becoming scarece in the interior of the country as most shipping companies have refused to move goods along the highways because trucks have been mobbed and burnt. This shortage is leading to huge inflation in the interior and everyday people cannot afford basic supplies. The railway from the coast to Uganda was partially destroyed in sections in Kibera and the Rift Valley so Uganda is feeling the effects as well on their prices and availablility of goods. Fishing on Lake Victoria has been almost stopped due to instability in the area and fish is now in short supply around the country. A large flower factory in the Rift Valley was evacuated and that industry is suffering as well. Hawkers on the street are suffering as people don't want to come out and spend money, everyone is saving in case of an emergency. But the biggest industry that is suffering is tourism. Kenya was previously one of the premier tourist destinations in East Africa and a huge portion of the economy depended on tourism - which has now almost flattened. Already 30,000 people have lost their jobs in the tourist industry. Hotels along the coast have closed, even street vendors are feeling the effects of the missing muzungus. On the news last night they were talking about how one single tourist, produces eight Kenyan jobs, and now the tourists are almost completely gone.
Kofi Annan arrived last week. Along with Graca Machel and others from the AU panel of Eminent African persons, they will lead the mediation between the two parties. Mr. Annan has announced that the first and foremost goal will be to end the violence, then other issues can be addressed. Already both parties have called on their supporters to end the violence and allow the mediation process time to begin addressing the issues. Although the call to stop the violence was not headed immediately, things seem to have calmed down by the end of this week, and hopefully the weekend will be uneventful (the talks will resume on Monday). Kofi Annan is a brilliant speaker; he speaks so softly and yet his air is one of such confidence and power that his audience is captive from start to finish. I am completely in awe of him. Not everyone seems to share this sentiment though, there have been clips on the news of angry people stating that Kofi Annan should go home, that Kenya needs a Kenyan solution. But many people I speak to personally seem to think that Kofi will get the job done, that his presence is what Kenya needs right now. I hope they are right.
Overally, I am safe, no need to worry about me. But thoughts and prayers for the Kenyan people and the peace process are, I'm sure, very welcome.
Kelsey Aaron
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