when i was young and idealistic, i had a stance on everything. i knew what side of the israeli-palestinian conflict i was on. i knew what should be done with pinochet and milosevic. the world was black and white to me.
then we lived in belfast, northern ireland for a year and my world got turned on its head. in many ways i have never recovered from that year, and certainly my ideas of civil conflict have never been the same. i saw exactly how complex war is. i saw how deep hatred can run. i saw that there was no black and white answer to solving conflict and this really disturbed me.
kenya experienced what they call 'the clashes' a year ago after a corrupt election. the stories i heard and the images painted for me were heartbreaking as i saw how far-reaching the violence was.
i met two sisters under the age of 10 who had witnessed their father murdered in such a brutal way that i couldn't even think of repeating it here. they were left orphans (and are now living with a kenyan family and being sponsored by friends of mine.)
i spoke at length with a mother who has taken in orphans and who lives in the countryside. she had to flee into the forest with her 30 odd children while people stole their livestock and raided their huts. they lived for 2 weeks in a church and were without food. when i asked what that was like she talked of how hungry the children were and how weak they were by the time they finally got food.
different people ReACT has given microloans to had to use up their repayment just to live during the weeks of the clashes.
it goes on and on.........i wrote earlier about being shocked by how many orphans there were in kenya, but i was probably more shocked by the number of children orphaned during the clashes.
i just can't imagine how people can turn on their neighbours just because they're from a different tribe. similarly, in northern ireland i can't believe that people murder each other because they're from a different denomination. same for so many countries in the world.
i'd like to believe that i'm above all that...that if i had a gun to my head or if my children were in danger i would never even strike another human being.
the truth is, it's never as black and white as all that, is it...
Monday, January 19, 2009
Sunday, January 18, 2009
water
i like water. i drink a lot of it every day. i like swimming in lakes and i like washing my hands. i'm pretty thankful for water. (i have a friend who thanks God for water whenever she's in the shower.)there are things that upset me about water. i'm upset that our actions are causing the ice caps to melt. i'm upset when i see some joker pouring toxic slop down the storm drains in toronto. i'm upset that we're bottling up our water and selling it for $3 a pop.
here are some completely unrelated experiences i've had with water in kenya:
when we arrived in nairobi after being on airplanes and in airports for almost 24 hours, i didn't have any local currency. it was midnight and we had to get to sleep and be up at 4:30am to get back on an airplane. i didn't have any water. my children went to sleep thirsty and woke up thirsty and there was nothing i could do since we couldn't drink from the tap. i admit that i felt actual desperation. the difference was that my desperation was shortlived because i was able to obtain both money and water. it was only for a few hours, but i experienced a snapshot of what many parents in the two-thirds world live with.....trying to explain to their children the fact that they are empty-handed.
i've only had one moment of feeling real, visceral anger here. we were passing a slum area and i saw a woman carrying water. it was in a large, yellow, plastic container. a rope was tied to the top of it and slung over her shoulder. she gripped the rope with her two hands and she was bent over as she struggled along the side of the road back to her family.
we visited a village area where people women were washing their laundry in a stream that fed into a river where men were washing themselves. as i looked at the mirky, grey water flowing from both those places, i had to wonder what the impact on the water system was.
there was a water shortage at the place where we were staying and so i became conscious of every drop of water i used. my children were bathed in next to nothing every day and i tried to wash our clothes in as little as possible. when you have to boil all your drinking water it's interesting to see how much you drink in a day. i became very thankful for our seemingly endless supply in canada.
Sunday, January 11, 2009
the people
i call my children ‘the people’. the first time i did so to manon she laughed so hard that i decided it would make a good name for the blog.
it’s been interesting having the people here in kenya with me. my approach has been to let them observe what they observe and not overload them with explanations of things they see. i’ve been happy at their response. no-one has really commented on the poverty or the injustice we have seen. no-one has really seemed to notice the difference between themselves and the children they’ve been playing with. this makes me happy. don’t get me wrong….i want my children to recognize injustice when they see it and i want them to grow up believing they can do something about it, but also want them to feel that on some level we are all the same.
anna and joseph have spent many of their days here playing in the dirt with small children who speak little english, who play with toys they have made themselves out of garbage, who are dressed in ragged, dirty clothes, who live in rudimentary housing, and of course, who are tremendously happy.
not until today did i catch a glimpse of what i expected has been happening….that they are thinking and processing on a different level and likely won’t communicate it until we are long home in canada.
me: would you like to go to town today?
joseph (who’s 3): yes.
me: what would you like to do in town?
joseph: i would like to buy a kenyan child i can look after.
(i then asked him a few questions about this idea….)
joseph: maybe when i grow up i can have a child to look after.
yes, joseph, maybe you can.
it’s been interesting having the people here in kenya with me. my approach has been to let them observe what they observe and not overload them with explanations of things they see. i’ve been happy at their response. no-one has really commented on the poverty or the injustice we have seen. no-one has really seemed to notice the difference between themselves and the children they’ve been playing with. this makes me happy. don’t get me wrong….i want my children to recognize injustice when they see it and i want them to grow up believing they can do something about it, but also want them to feel that on some level we are all the same.
anna and joseph have spent many of their days here playing in the dirt with small children who speak little english, who play with toys they have made themselves out of garbage, who are dressed in ragged, dirty clothes, who live in rudimentary housing, and of course, who are tremendously happy.
not until today did i catch a glimpse of what i expected has been happening….that they are thinking and processing on a different level and likely won’t communicate it until we are long home in canada.
me: would you like to go to town today?
joseph (who’s 3): yes.
me: what would you like to do in town?
joseph: i would like to buy a kenyan child i can look after.
(i then asked him a few questions about this idea….)
joseph: maybe when i grow up i can have a child to look after.
yes, joseph, maybe you can.
thursday january 8, 2009
my sister, maureen, lives with severe disabilities. for 35 years she has lived with my parents and for 34 years i have witnessed the joys and pains that have come along with that. it hain’t been easy, but it’s been Good.
yesterday i had the privilege of meeting kenyan parents who have lived with the same joys and pains, but magnified.
there is no support for such families here, and in fact there is animosity where there should be support. i talked to a mother with a 6-year old daughter who seems to me to be autistic and a 16-year-old cousin with downe’s syndrome. this mother told me how people had responded to her family, telling her that they were cursed, that she was making the children disabled so she could get money, that she had taken drugs and caused the defects. she told us these things knowing they were untrue, but still saying them questioningly….wanting us to confirm for her what she hoped: that she had done nothing wrong.
most families hide their children with special needs. this is why i was so moved when i saw the lineup of parents waiting to have their children assessed to go to school for the first time. i saw hope in the eyes of mothers and i was so proud of them for stepping into an unknown world by entrusting their children into the care of others.
(canadian donors sponsor children who are deaf and children who are developmentally challenged to go to school. people who work with ReACT here in kenya recently drummed up 26 new families who wanted to send their children to school.)
truthfully, i haven’t done as much crying as i expected to do while here. but at the end of the day parents came, shaking our hands and thanking and thanking us so much and the tears filled my eyes (and they are as i write this now).
yesterday i had the privilege of meeting kenyan parents who have lived with the same joys and pains, but magnified.
there is no support for such families here, and in fact there is animosity where there should be support. i talked to a mother with a 6-year old daughter who seems to me to be autistic and a 16-year-old cousin with downe’s syndrome. this mother told me how people had responded to her family, telling her that they were cursed, that she was making the children disabled so she could get money, that she had taken drugs and caused the defects. she told us these things knowing they were untrue, but still saying them questioningly….wanting us to confirm for her what she hoped: that she had done nothing wrong.
most families hide their children with special needs. this is why i was so moved when i saw the lineup of parents waiting to have their children assessed to go to school for the first time. i saw hope in the eyes of mothers and i was so proud of them for stepping into an unknown world by entrusting their children into the care of others.
(canadian donors sponsor children who are deaf and children who are developmentally challenged to go to school. people who work with ReACT here in kenya recently drummed up 26 new families who wanted to send their children to school.)
truthfully, i haven’t done as much crying as i expected to do while here. but at the end of the day parents came, shaking our hands and thanking and thanking us so much and the tears filled my eyes (and they are as i write this now).
Thursday, January 8, 2009
orphans
everyone in north america knows the stories of african grandmothers caring for their grandchildren because a whole generation is disappearing.
(the average life expectancy for a kenyan is 47.)
i knew, coming here, that we would be visiting orphanages and foster homes, but i didn’t expect that everywhere we turned would be children and young people without parents. the youth workers with the organization that is hosting us, the gardener, the boy the neighbours took in, the foster father. it’s almost as though there is an entire cohort who will grow up feeling like it’s abnormal to have parents. and they’re not only missing parents…..many of them have stories of being taken in by aunts and uncles, only to lose them also.
i know that as teenagers we sometimes feel that parents are overrated, but hearing the stories of the parentless generation brings a real sadness to me.
and then i look at my own children (and i’m glad to have them here to give me perspective) and imagine what life would be like if the were orphaned. no doubt, it would be devastating to lose scott and i, but there’s a critical difference:
they have friends and family who would care for them.
they have free health care and education and some money in the bank.
basically, they would manage.
the same can’t be said for people in so many african countries.
while i may not be a fan of typical ‘white man handouts’, sitting here it seems to me that we have no option but to come alongside these children who are orphaned and offer them our hands somehow.
(the average life expectancy for a kenyan is 47.)
i knew, coming here, that we would be visiting orphanages and foster homes, but i didn’t expect that everywhere we turned would be children and young people without parents. the youth workers with the organization that is hosting us, the gardener, the boy the neighbours took in, the foster father. it’s almost as though there is an entire cohort who will grow up feeling like it’s abnormal to have parents. and they’re not only missing parents…..many of them have stories of being taken in by aunts and uncles, only to lose them also.
i know that as teenagers we sometimes feel that parents are overrated, but hearing the stories of the parentless generation brings a real sadness to me.
and then i look at my own children (and i’m glad to have them here to give me perspective) and imagine what life would be like if the were orphaned. no doubt, it would be devastating to lose scott and i, but there’s a critical difference:
they have friends and family who would care for them.
they have free health care and education and some money in the bank.
basically, they would manage.
the same can’t be said for people in so many african countries.
while i may not be a fan of typical ‘white man handouts’, sitting here it seems to me that we have no option but to come alongside these children who are orphaned and offer them our hands somehow.
sunday january 4, 2009
i’ve spent a lot of time thinking about rights. we are obsessed with our rights in the west, but so much of what we call rights are actually luxuries. i’ve come to believe that very few things are actually rights. access to clean water and proper nutrition, access to health care, safety….might be at the top of my list. the rest are things we feel we are owed. this curse of entitlement is what’s killing us all. and sitting in canada thinking about the developing world it’s easy for us to feel that people here need to be at a standard of living we can fathom.
we visited an orphanage started by an american guy who lives here and as we stood and chatted while surrounded by beautiful kenyan children, he explained to me his philosophy. he is careful not to have the children raised believing that everything they have comes from mzungus (white people). he doesn’t bring them candy or toys when he and his team go to visit. they don’t know that these mzungus are funding the orphanage. “they just think we’re they’re friends who come to hang out with them.” and “we’re not trying to westernize these kids.” he explains that they purposely don’t have running water or electricity and says that that would be doing a disservice to them. all of the children come from a village setting and he wants to make sure they continue to grow up in as close to a village setting as possible.
as i was preparing to leave for this trip, different lovely people asked me if i was taking any goods and if they could send anything. at the time i just smiled politely, thanked them for their interest, and told them i wasn’t bringing anything to give out.
today i had it articulated to me exactly why. i saw that it’s not inhumane that children are playing with dolls they made themselves with plastic bags and string. i saw that perhaps electricity is a luxury and not a right (?!). i also saw the benefit of avoiding the perception of white man handouts. this doesn’t mean that westerners shouldn’t financially support people in poverty, it’s that they shouldn’t judge for themselves what are rights and luxuries and needs.
(if you haven’t checked out the ReACT kenya website, you should. it explains how ReACT comes alongside kenyans in need.)
we visited an orphanage started by an american guy who lives here and as we stood and chatted while surrounded by beautiful kenyan children, he explained to me his philosophy. he is careful not to have the children raised believing that everything they have comes from mzungus (white people). he doesn’t bring them candy or toys when he and his team go to visit. they don’t know that these mzungus are funding the orphanage. “they just think we’re they’re friends who come to hang out with them.” and “we’re not trying to westernize these kids.” he explains that they purposely don’t have running water or electricity and says that that would be doing a disservice to them. all of the children come from a village setting and he wants to make sure they continue to grow up in as close to a village setting as possible.
as i was preparing to leave for this trip, different lovely people asked me if i was taking any goods and if they could send anything. at the time i just smiled politely, thanked them for their interest, and told them i wasn’t bringing anything to give out.
today i had it articulated to me exactly why. i saw that it’s not inhumane that children are playing with dolls they made themselves with plastic bags and string. i saw that perhaps electricity is a luxury and not a right (?!). i also saw the benefit of avoiding the perception of white man handouts. this doesn’t mean that westerners shouldn’t financially support people in poverty, it’s that they shouldn’t judge for themselves what are rights and luxuries and needs.
(if you haven’t checked out the ReACT kenya website, you should. it explains how ReACT comes alongside kenyans in need.)
Thursday, January 1, 2009
new year's day
we have arrived and we are delighted.
the red earth, the smell of burning garbage, fresh bananas from the roadside.
joseph climbing trees and hugging the guard dog.
anna finding slugs and feeding the rabbits.
me sitting in the equatorial sun washing our clothes in a bucket and being incredibly grateful that our 36-hour journey to kitale went brilliantly.
all of us riding on the back of boda-bodas (bicycle taxis) watching sheep graze by the side of the road.
and i am starting to hear the stories, though i have yet to see anything first hand. stories of girls from the slums learning to make and sell cards in order to keep them from lives of prostitution. stories of boys from orphanages finishing high school and getting hired as youth workers. stories of 26 more families looking to have sponsorship so their disabled children can go to school.
it is new year's day here in kenya, and it does feel like a new day indeed.
(as it turns out, i will have limited access to the internet, so may not be updating regularly. )
the red earth, the smell of burning garbage, fresh bananas from the roadside.
joseph climbing trees and hugging the guard dog.
anna finding slugs and feeding the rabbits.
me sitting in the equatorial sun washing our clothes in a bucket and being incredibly grateful that our 36-hour journey to kitale went brilliantly.
all of us riding on the back of boda-bodas (bicycle taxis) watching sheep graze by the side of the road.
and i am starting to hear the stories, though i have yet to see anything first hand. stories of girls from the slums learning to make and sell cards in order to keep them from lives of prostitution. stories of boys from orphanages finishing high school and getting hired as youth workers. stories of 26 more families looking to have sponsorship so their disabled children can go to school.
it is new year's day here in kenya, and it does feel like a new day indeed.
(as it turns out, i will have limited access to the internet, so may not be updating regularly. )
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