September 2007

G.K. Chesterton says, “An adventure is only an inconvenience rightly considered. An inconvenience is an adventure wrongly considered.” I have certainly had many things that can be considered inconveniences and even hardships. Chesterton has reminded me yet again (I must be one slow learner) it is all in how you perceive it. August has been a busy month for me, lots of adventures and adventures in disguise as inconveniences. I have had a couple of mini-vacations and work at the factory has continued to provide all kinds of stress. Quality is still not where it needs to be and we lost 3 more team members this last month. The weavers in training are doing a great job with quality and yet they have lost 3 team members in 4 weeks. My granddaughter began crawling and walking around furniture and having all kinds of fun with her Mom and Dad. I am sure I shall never get used to missing my sons, their wives, my granddaughter and my good friends. It is the hardest part of being here and I struggle to find the adventure in this inconvenience.

I had the opportunity to visit Central Province which includes Mt. Kenya. My community counterpart. Mwengi, (he is the person who guides me through cultural situations, helps me stay connected to the community and generally keeps me out of relational troubles) and his family are from Thika and Nyeri. I attended a family reunion of sorts at his Mama’s homestead. She has a beautiful farm on a hillside and at 83, she still actively farms. Crops include about 4 different kinds of potatoes, corn, beans, coffee and various other vegetables for her family’s consumption. She sells the coffee to a large coffee exporter. It is her only cash crop. This is a Kukuo tribal area, so I got to taste some new foods and be exposed to cultural norms for that area. They are a happy group and the family embraced me very warmly. We had lots of eating, singing, dancing and praying together.

I did not get to climb Mt. Kenya since I was still recovering from bronchitis and my traveling partners never really intended to do the climb. They had a very different agenda, which turned out to be okay. I met lots of new people and saw beautiful countryside. I plan to go when my family or friends come to visit. It is a 3 day climb if anyone wants to go with me. We can camp in tents or can arrange to stay in some permanent camp sites on the mountain. The entire trail is switchbacks.

I also visited with the grandmother of Mwengi’s wife, who lives at the base of Mt. Kenya. That is her in the photo with me. She is a mother of 14, was a member of the MauMau’s and is very proud of her contribution to Kenya’s independence. She was imprisoned, beaten and raped daily. Her joints are knotted and swollen from being beaten with sticks across her hands, knees, elbows and spine. She is able to walk, but is always in pain. She is living history of the colonial times and the struggle for independence and never gets tired talking about the MauMau experience. In her 90’s she has total recall of her past life, but has trouble remembering what happened a few minutes ago!

A Peace Corps friend and I visited the island of Lamu to celebrate her birthday. It was a great vacation. We read, walked the beaches, shopped like American tourists, ate fresh seafood everyday – twice a day, got pedicures and massages and generally just kicked backed and enjoyed. And, it was pretty cheap – 5 days on the island plus travel to and from was only $300. Lamu is 99% Muslim so there is no nightlife except for one restaurant that serves alcohol and the askari club (for the policemen). They have a disco at the club on the weekends. With 15,000 inhabitants they have 46 mosques – that’s a lot. My town is half Muslim and it has only 4 or 5 mosques.

One of the “inconveniences” of Kenya is the corruption that still exists with government officials. The country has made great strides in trying to overcome this barrier to social and economic growth. However, in a two day period of time, I witnessed it 3 times. My exposure to it is usually around bribing police (askari) to pass through a check point. They grab the licenses and keys of the matatu drivers and will not give them back until they pay them a little something. For most Kenyans, the trouble goes deeper. Sometimes it affects their ability to get birth certificates, national ID cards, passports or other official documents. For truckers it may mean having to bribe weigh station officials to be allowed to pass through. It is a problem the government is working hard to overcome, but after decades of abuse, it is difficult to change the behavior in a few years.

The adventure of LifeWorks continues. We have started the assembly line, produced our first orders for Serena hotels, sent our sample lines off to the New York International Gift Show and have been working on our quality control process. The biggest hurdle is the quality. Something as simple as ironing the fabrics can involve many steps to assure we do not stretch or harm the fabric. It is my living nightmare on a daily basis. Mainly it is because our work team does not see the small imperfections and cannot understand why each quality step is so important. And, from day to day, they lapse back into doing it “their” way rather than the right way. On the upside, I have had the benefit of a Harvard MBA helping out on documentation of production process, quality process and examining cost structures. Jennifer will begin her consulting career in October with Bain and decided to spend her summer helping out an NGO in a developing country.

The Lunganya Women’s Savings and Loan Association is moving along. The women are doing the final review of the by-laws and gaining approval from each of the 100+ merry go rounds. We have developed a draft budget and excitement is pretty high to get the training going. The Weighbridge project is still floundering, but the Orphans and Vulnerable Children’s leadership team is energized around finding ways to sustain their teaching programs for pre-kindergarten children. So, we have been busy identifying needs (salaries for teachers, equipment, etc.) and trying to develop some solutions. This groups services approximately 6,000 orphans in Mariakani subdistrict (like a county). I also had the opportunity to start working with a self help group that makes beaded jewelry and help them begin to visualize how they might improve their business.

Brenda, the tailor I have been helping to grow her business, got her new sewing machine. With a minimal amount of tutoring on saving and budgeting, she was able to buy her own sewing machine, increase her revenue through consignment fabrics and taking on a couple of students to teach tailoring. She is considering finding a larger shop and wants an American pen pal very much. So if any of you are interested please email me.

Shabbon, a young man in the town, has the use of a Hulux pick up truck and has a small business transporting people and stuff around the area. He is my newest “adventure.” Budgeting and saving are the fundamentals that most Kenyans have trouble with since they live hand to mouth, literally. He is father to his own 3 children and has taken on his sister’s two sons as his own. Together we are trying to figure out if selling kerosene to the smaller villages 4 – 10 times a month will substantially increase his revenues after allowing for the cost of the kerosene, higher maintenance costs and a helper.

Samira, my friend, who I have been helping apply to colleges, was accepted at 3 schools in Kenya. She is going to start medical school in a couple of weeks. Her adventure is just beginning! Her Mama hosted a harmabe last Saturday and raised her first year’s tuition and school supplies.

I marvel at the ability of Kenyans to use the expression “it is just there” to identify a location 10 feet away or two miles away. Strangely, most people seem to understand what that means, except for me of course. Several times I have been caught in the “just there” directions and have been on a not so pleasant adventure wondering if I would ever get there. Since I have no sense of direction, I have always navigated based on landmarks and there are not many landmarks in Kenya in the rural areas. Giving directions here hardly ever includes turning left or right or specific distances. With a wave of the arm, a point of the finger and a “just there” is about as much navigation advice as I get. I have had to discipline myself to ask a lot of questions rather than take their word for it being “just there.” Even so, many times I walk around in circles or misjudge the real distance and time to get somewhere. It is an inconvenience, but it does give me time to think and “venture” into new areas.

I have been potea cabisa (completely lost) in Kenya now for one year. It is hard to believe. Life among family and friends has continued on without me, for which I am truly sad. Life here in Kenya has moved along with me, which gives me joy. And, I am pretty close to the half way mark of my service in Kenya, so the adventure is half over!

I certainly would not have been able to sustain this adventure without your continued support through prayer, cards, letters, packages, phone calls and emails. Thank you, from my heart to yours.

August 2007

Including a picture last time drew a lot of comments, so I have put in a picture of my granddaughter and me taken last April. It seems like such a long time ago. She has two teeth now and is sitting and crawling everywhere (mostly to grab the cat food according to her Mom).

I was reminded by a friend this last month of our hike on part of the Appalachian Trail. She wondered if being in Kenya kind of felt like that trip……you want to be there but it is hard, hard work. You only make it by remembering to put one foot in front of the other whether you feel like it or not……yes, friend, living here is like hiking the Appalachian Trail. The daily effort takes it toll, and the rewards are just as sweet as that feeling of accomplishment we had when we completed our trek. At days end, there are things to celebrate even with an achy body and spirit. It is the small pleasures that sustain.

One note of celebration is that my sense of smell is coming back. I do not know if it is the African climate or if it is the result of the long term therapy I have been on for my sinuses finally kicking in. If it is, thanks Dr Merrell and Dr Winder. My sister sent me a Yankee candle air freshener for my closet and the first time I opened the door and smelled it, I almost fainted…..it was too grand for words. I can “smell the coffee” now and food I have cooked. Of course, now I can also smell the choo (outdoor bathrooms) and all the crowded sweaty bodies on the matatu….eek…I can even smell myself!

At my former company, HCR Manor Care, we show a video called Minnie to new hires. It helps remind them that our patients have names and a life history to be honored as a part of their stay in our rehab center, and how important a name can be to someone. That lesson is driven home to me everyday in Kenya. I get called a lot of different names, Patricia (pronounced Pah tree see ah), shangazi (auntie by the teenagers), the ever ugly muzungu (white person) and everyone’s favorite, Mama. Every woman of a certain age and bearing are called mama if their name is not known. I often wonder how can they spot the mamas – is it just an age thing or do they check out the expanded hips, saggy breasts and the leftover rubbery baby pouch we all carry as a part of our tummies before they call you a mama. What is in a name???? I miss being called Patty. For some reason, Patty is a difficult word for Kenyans to say so they never call me that…….some days they do not call me anything, they just ask for sweets like I carry candy around with me……....weird.

Hey, more strange news, we have rats at the factory…..no real cause for celebration on this one. They keep eating our hand soap. Once they whittle it down to a small enough size, they pick it up and carry it back to wherever they live…..they have not started eating our fabric yet, but it is only a question of time. So, our quest is to catch the ones in the factory and plug up the openings so no more can get in. A friend sent me some rat traps. She mailed them months ago and like a miracle from heaven, they arrived the same week we discovered the rats. I am always the first in the office (some habits are hard to break) and so naturally I am the one who “discovers” the catch each day. I am all girl about this. I refuse to go near the traps. It gives me the willies (whatever that is).They are glue traps so the rat is still alive…..eek!

I think I am not adapting too well to some of the cultural practices. Kenyans really do not know how to keep time. It is not unusual for people to show up to meetings one to three hours late or even not at all. Worse, people sit around and wait for everyone before they start the meeting. I have begun too lose patience for this and have taken to leaving if people have not arrived within one hour of the agreed start time. It doesn’t make them more compliant but it does keep me from sitting there and getting angry about it. The other cultural practice is the handshake. Everyone gets a handshake whether it is a group of two or thirty……I am not that friendly a person to begin with so shaking many hands just wears me out, but it is a daily occurrence here. Every employee at the factory expects a handshake when I greet them each day. Every meeting includes a big round of handshakes. All “jambos” on the walk to work come with a handshake. It is rude not to shake hands. Even if you are eating at a table, you still offer your wrist for them to touch.

Some days I feel ashamed I behave like such a wretch when people are so kind to me. The young man who keeps me supplied with water each week does so with a smile and never complains or whines about carrying 120 liters of water up to the second floor. My friends in the community feed me, entertain me and generally look after me like family. I have to remind myself that life has its little pleasures and just like in the USA, it is wrapped around relationships, not the tasks or the trials of the Kenyan lifestyle.

Oswald Chambers, a great spiritual writer and teacher, says we get caught up in the concept of God leading us to some desired goal when in reality God’s goal for us is the process. I feel like this whole 10 months has been a classroom in process for me. I learn new things about myself (most of them are things I cannot brag about) and I am learning the hard way, in whatever state I am in to be content in Him. I am not sure I have ever appreciated that as I do here.

More cause for celebration, we have 35 people at the factory now and have sent our sample line to New York hoping we can capture the attention of a very big store. Our products are selling right now in the Serena Hotel chain (owned by the Aga Khan). Their gift shop is stocking our stuff! Serena is the premier hotel of Kenya. My Weighbridge grocery store is still lagging behind. I think the treasurer might have “borrowed” the funds and that is why the meetings have not been held. The SACCO is in the process of obtaining registration and we are working on their budget and figuring out the training schedule for running one.

And, I had Christmas in July – 6 packages arrived in one day! I got stuff from friends in Georgia, Virginia, Ohio and New York. The workers at the Posta were amazed. I had to hire a tuk tuk (a small three wheeled vehicle, kind of a taxi), to haul the stuff from the Posta to the matatu staging area for Mariakani. I am ever grateful that you all continue to remember me. I was running out of reading material and between all the packages I ended up with about 10 books and other delectable items such as beef jerky, jelly beans, energy bars, peanut butter crackers and other yummy stuff; and of course, the rat traps (useful stuff!).

I ended the month sick, but am on the road to recovery. I plan to hike Mt. Kenya next week if the bronchitis is cleared up enough. Otherwise, I will just look at it and enjoy the view. Enjoy your “dog days of summer” in the US; we are nearing the end of winter. Each day gets a little hotter and the rains are almost done. I miss you all more than you can know.

July 2007

July 2007

Well, here it is July! We are in the throes of winter which means it is cool, in the 80’s and the rain has lessened somewhat. We now have showers instead of the monsoons. Although, last night it poured pretty good, but I was already tucked under my mosquito net reading a good book sent by a good friend. Good dreams and cool nights.

We have had several deaths in my immediate community of friends in Kenya. Death is heart managed so differently here. No tears allowed. It might make someone uncomfortable. But then, death is a daily occurrence here. Either someone you personally know or someone you know has someone they know who died. When you think that of the 30 million people living in Kenya today, there have been 10 million who died over the last ten years of AIDS and more still dying every day. Then, there are almost 100 children dying of malaria each day. This forces them to have a very different perspective on death. They do not talk about it or share their grief the same way we do. They seem to slip through the grief process in moments rather than weeks or months or even years as we sometimes do in America. Half the population is Muslim so there is no visitation. Muslims are buried the same day they die and then everyone gets on with life. The Christian community here plans the funeral around when relatives can get there and if the body has to transported back to their homestead in some other province. Often there is up to a two week delay before burial. There is no carrying in of meals to the bereaved family in Kenya. The family bears the burden of feeding and housing all the visitors. There could be as many as 20 or 30 people a day. It is financially burdensome and requires the family to seek donations for the process.

The harambe for burials is more like a stealth asking and giving process. Nothing is openly done. Harambes for school fees, weddings, building programs, or anything else that no one can afford are done with big meetings, sometimes refreshments and arm twisting as part of the giving. I sat through a harambe at church for the Women’s Guild. It extended the Sunday service by an hour and half and had a series of collection processes by groups. So the men of the church were asked to give, the elders of the church, the youth, the women, the choir, the Sunday School classes, the visitors, the members of the congregation; it went on and on. Of course, everyone present is a part of many of the identified groups, so you give multiple times. It was an expensive Sunday.

I have decided I am one spoiled American………I miss running water. I miss driving a car. I miss having money and stores and washing machines and choices of all kinds! My friends here really do not get it because they have never had it. When I was home, my son John got on the Internet and we did a quiz on how much of the world’s natural resources we use each day. In Kenyan I use so very little compared to when I was living in the US. I make do with 120 liters of water a week for everything, drinking, cooking, washing me and my clothes, cleaning, etc. At home in the US, I am sure I probably used that a day…….

Work is getting a little crazy. Since my site is a test site for East Africa, we are already working on scalability. In addition, we have the daily craziness of any start up operation of training, improving processes around quality and production, inventory management and, procurement process or lack thereof, etc. I get to influence but not make decisions and as you know, I like making decisions. So, the craziness is as much a personal struggle as the actual work.

The young man I am mentoring who is managing the production process at the factory has told me several times old women cannot be trained. What does that really mean? I have to remind him I am an old woman, at least by their standards. He has been reluctant to hire any trainees past the age of 30. Of course, we did anyway. And guess what, the older women are having a terrible time fitting into the schedules, learning the process and are very hesitant in everything they do. I believe it is from the lack of formal schooling and the language barriers. For many, their tribal language is the first language. Even their Kiswahili is not so good. And, they have never had to juggle work at home and a job

Mold is my new enemy. The raining season has caused mold to grow overnight on floors, walls and furniture. My address book and event calendar have been consumed by mold with little salvageable. Bleach continues to be my friendly cleaning tool, but sometimes I just have to laugh out loud at the speed and viciousness at which the natural elements conspire against me. You would think as few resources as I am using while here, they would show more kindness towards me.

I get asked many times about what foods I eat here. I do get a good assortment of vegetables like carrots, peas, onions and sometimes, string beans. Cabbage and greens are always available. I have started keeping cleaned chopped up veggies in my little refrigerator. On lazy nights, I simply add them to the Ramen noodles I buy in Mombasa. On nights I feel like cooking, I make mac and cheese (thank you my dear friends who continue to send me cheese packets), pasta primavera or something similar. . I have also started to eat eggs more frequently. I scramble them and make egg sandwiches or an omelet. The egg yolks are such a funny color here, more beige than yellow. For breakfast, I live on nutrition bars and oatmeal (again, thanks for all those instant packets of oatmeal) and lunch is usually some kind of fresh fruit and bread.

It is mango and avocado high season here. My sons have an expression for the Mexican restaurants they love. They say the burritos are as big as your head. It is an overstatement when they say it; but, it is not an overstatement here to say that about our avocados and some types of mangoes. It is high season for avocados and mangoes and they really, really are as big as your head! One avocado can easily feed 4 people and some types of mangoes can feed a large extended family. The small green skinned ones are eaten like candy – spilt and peeled back with chili pepper on them. Adults and children alike walk around the market eating them. It is a tasty, cheap treat, just a few shillings. .

I have a new secondary project to go with the many others that keep popping up. I am assisting the Lunganya Women’s Leadership Group in helping to start a savings and loan cooperative. It is similar, but not the same as a traditional micro-finance. It will be more affordable in terms of membership and amount of savings and shares a person or group must hold. We hope to have it up and running by the end of the year. Funding for start up has been secured through USAID via Family Health International. The SACCO will target at risk woman and eventually will be open to community. Its’ first members will be the over 400 women who make up the smaller merry go rounds that comprise the Lunganya Women’s Group.

So, I continue to keep busy. This is a good thing or my spoiled American persona would cause me more havoc than it already does. I am hoping to get a visit back home sometime late this year. I need approval from the Peace Corps, from FHI and from my son (if I can afford another visit or not!). All business in Kenya literally shuts down from December 15th through the first of the year. Even the schools close from the last week in November until the middle of January. So, there is not much that will be happening around here. And, the lives of my family keep pushing on so I really need to catch up with them.

Thanks again to all those who continue to support me through their prayers, packages, phone calls and emails. You brighten my life here more than you can ever know.