Sunday comes first, then Monday.

Sunday overview:

Up at 8am for an hour bus ride with the group out to Nairobi National Park: me and Belle

Went on an AWESOME hike along the river, through the park (PS there are all kinds of animals, again I'm in Africa, so yes, awesome). 

We then stopped in another Maasai Village, this time we got to do the traditional dances:

And went inside a traditional manyatta: a hut made (extremely well) by the wife (in this case the 1st wife) out of sticks and cow manure: here I am stepping out of one.

We continued our hike, and then we came to this: PS that is me + 4 friends crossing

And almost there:

 AND WE MADE IT. but wait we had to cross back over to return.

We crossed the Bridge to go to the Kitengela Glass Factory, which takes recycled glass form the city to produce all sorts of cool stuff, like this:

Afterwards went to this beautiful lodge, overlooking the River in the park with a pool that we spent the afternoon relaxing and swimming around in. It was such a fantastic day with the hike, the little adventure, the glass factory, and the pool!

MONDAY:

boring day of classes at USIU, my IO teacher got stuck in traffic and was a no show, and I had a presentation on the Renaissance, our group had 15 minutes to go over an entire period in art history, and another 5 to cover the next 400 years leading up to Impressionism, of course we owned it- thank you KPS, well thank you Ms. Goss for all of that knowledge, as well as my 100 level course at AU. 

TODAY... aka Tuesday:

Instead of typing all of this out I'm actually just going to copy and paste a paper I handed in today, our first "Critical Incident." Let me just tell you the assignment was to pick an incident that challenged your cross-cultural skills and understanding. For todays post I'm going to just give you my response, (with a few details added in and names taken out for privacy):

         This morning I woke up realizing I didn’t think I had truly had a critical incident that affected me so strongly as to contemplate later. Then today I decided to meet up with the Sarakasi Hospital Project at Kenyatta National Hospital and that changed. I have now been to the hospital with the Project team three different times, in three different wards: pediatric caner, pediatrics burn (after the Sinai Pipe Explosion), and pediatric fractures & operations. Each visit became more fun with the next and made me recognize the value of working on the hospital project with these extraordinary people. That’s why I keep going back. Today was different, although it confirmed I couldn’t be working with better people and for a fantastic cause.

This afternoon, Tuesday October 4^th 2011, I (of course) had a great time drawing and coloring with the kids, watching the team tell stories and singing with the kids who were all laughing and smiling. Afterwards I____, the team member who has basically taken me under his wing and had been showing me around, asked me to grab a smoothie. I jumped at the opportunity to interview him for my research paper. After asking him a few questions relating to art and why they use as a section of the Hospital Project I eventually inquired how and why he is working for it? He joked around about a cool poster he saw in his usual theatrical story telling voice but he suddenly got serious for the first time since I had met him and he said, “I didn’t find Sarakasi, Sarakasi found me.” I know this sounds disastrously cliché but I swear it is exactly how it happened.

I’m going to back track a little bit and talk about my afternoon at the hospital. We walked into the pediatrics cancer ward and they had a great recreation type room painted in rainbows with pink curtains and a flat screen TV with a DVD player. The team began by telling a story as I helped two others set up the paper and sharpen the colored pencils for the kids. I then got to play and draw with the kids, or help them with their drawings. I also took a majority of the time observing what the team was doing and how they were working to help my brainstorm new projects to do with the kids because Ferny (head of the Hospital Project) asked me to. Most of the children were either drawing or chatting with each other; I noticed I_ had been talking with one boy in a wheelchair who had not wanted to draw over by the TV.

I went over and introduced myself and came to find that the boy spoke English fairly well, much better than a lot of the young kids who live in the hospital. His name is J_ and I_ informed me J_ often asks about America and says how he wants to go there one day. I_ encouraged J_ to ask me questions, but he was too shy and didn’t say too much. Following our meeting and after trying to convince everyone that I_ was my brother (most kids would laugh and yell that I was a mzungu- the Kiswahili word used for foreigner, or more distinctly white person), I went over and continued to draw with the younger kids. During the last few minutes we were in the pediatric cancer wing J_ would ask I_ a question to rely to me because he was shy to ask on his own. We packed up and I was disappointed we had to leave because I love seeing the kids laugh and enjoy themselves in the dully-lit hallways, mostly blue painted cement walls, and squeaky floors.

To get home I_ and I take the same bus back into town and we got to talk about my research project on the arts in Kenya (just an FYI I am looking at private vs public art education or lack there of, and concepts of art is the western world vs nairobi via international schools in kenya). I asked if I could interview him and he suggested we grab ice cream in town. When we went to the upper level of the fast food corner by the Hilton hotel (in downtown Nairobi center) we sat and began to chat with our milkshakes (this scene overlooks a busy bus stop-used by locals, as well as a popular travel destination for foreigners). He eventually claimed, “this is my thinking place,” explaining that working at Sarakasi for the Hospital Project takes a lot out of a person and eventually explained to me why.

J_, the shy boy from the hospital, had celebrated his eighteenth birthday with I_ this past weekend, who went because he has become close (as I_ described by crossing his fingers) with J_ since he started working there over three years ago. J_ has been in Kenyatta National Hospital for seven years, and I_ continued to explain J_ family can’t afford to visit him from their home in (a slum) and maybe make it to see him once a month.

I am listening intently and simultaneously overwhelmed by all of this information, which only continues. J_ has watched so many other kids, and friends die, so much he says he can’t take it anymore but still he tries to explain to the younger children how to talk about their friends and try to handle deaths as they start to see them- thanks to I_ just taking a few extra moments to talk with and visit him. I_ gave me an example of what he came to this place to think about by repeating a question J_ asked him recently, “who will talk about me when I die?” After hearing that question, and about his family who either doesn’t show up or can’t afford to visit, how he misses his siblings, I thought I would break down right there in the center of Nairobi. I asked a few questions more about how the team deals with these heartbreaking stories, or deaths of children they’ve worked with, to get no real response other than they try to talk with each other for support. I then realized I wanted to get home just to cry and to think. And I did just that.

I wouldn’t say this was an incident where I was confused or embarrassed by a cross-cultural interpretation or misunderstanding; however, it was the first time I truly saw and certainly understood the plethora of problems in Nairobi, and all over, but specifically Nairobi. Not to say I hadn’t seen and realized the trash everywhere, the children begging in the streets, the general lack of order with most things. I knew I was coming to a developing country, well that’s why I came here. But I hadn’t connected these disastrous problems with individual people and how it dramatically affects their everyday life. It wasn’t personal until today.

These tribulations don’t only reach the dozens of children I see playfully running around all floors or stuck in bed at Kenyatta National Hospital, it affects populations. Today I came to this realization that I wasn’t in this fantasy world where I wanted to contribute my ideas and thoughts to and learn from these experiences I was having (and reading and studying about). I now recognize these issues don’t just need to be addressed they need to be corrected. Obviously no one person can tackle that, but working with this incredible project with these talented and enthusiastic people really touched me. This group of “youths” from Nairobi (although from diverse backgrounds) comes together for the purpose of making a difference the best way they can and they love it. They entertain and make these conditions bearable by lightening up the children, parents, nurses, doctors, maintenance staff as well as their own days. Today was the hardest day I have had so far in Nairobi, however, I learned so much and I can expect so many more rough days ahead, as well as great ones, and I honestly cannot wait.

don't forget to smile today!