Reflection

Pounding it out with nephew Jackson in Colorado over the holidays.

Before we left Kenya in December I decided to have extensions and twists added to my hair - 4 1/2 hours and 3 hardworking ladies later it was complete. Over a month later it took my mom and I eight hours to take out and lots, and lots, lots of hair fell out - not sure if I will do it again:)

A group of us arranged for an official graduation for the 2010 graduating class of the Hawkers Market Girls Centre - excited to report all of the girls have been successfully placed in either a job or are attending school to further their education!

One week before we left Kenya in December our Touring Wagon was stolen and to this day has not been found - the whole situation is still under investigation, which isn't surprising.

Yikes – it has been months, even a new year has arrived, since I have last updated my blog. Although I think and process blog posts in my head frequently I have neglected to get it down in writing. It is apparent that a lot has happened since October 29, 2010 including leaving Kenya in December to be home with our families for the holiday season, which then got extended longer than anticipated. Madison returned to Kenya mid-January to continue running Honey Care Africa. I on the other hand stayed in NJ for an extra month to spend some long overdue quality time with my family and friends and of course to earn some extra money to sustain us here in Kenya. As much as I enjoyed living back with my loving parents after officially moving out 8 years ago, seeing my sweet nephews almost on a daily basis, and working as a substitute teacher in the Berkeley Heights school district, subbing yoga classes, and doubling as a nanny (ok, babysitter, but for the most well-behaved, adorable two-year old twin boys), I was ready to return to Nairobi and be back with my husband. Fortunately, I was able to find my way back to Kenya last week and continue on this journey with my soul mate. The saying is true though, “absence makes the heart grow fonder.”

As I reflect on my time back home after our first segment in Kenya a variety of emotions, thoughts, and situations flood through me. I know the first few luxuries Madison and I both noticed and were extremely grateful for upon arrival in NJ were high speed-internet, my mother’s delicious homemade Italian cooking (the thought of it makes my mouth water), structured, organized driving on smooth, paved roads (although Madison now finds US driving standards boring and had to be reminded a few times to drive on the right side of the road) and of course, soap in public restrooms. While Madison thoroughly enjoyed long, hot showers, I was taking advantage of my driving privileges and reveling in the freedom of going where I want, when I want, in my own vehicle that I was confidently able to drive. In the same breath came the realization of how our Kenyan lifestyle has begun to influence us. I found I was distancing myself from what I felt was petty drama finding its way into my life, resisting talking on the phone just to talk, and being short-tempered when I found myself having to justify why we are choosing to be of assistance and aid in Kenya when there is so much poverty in the U.S. It took some time adjusting to the superfluous amount of choice that exists in grocery stores and malls, how overpriced and expensive everything appeared to be, and how all of the options and luxuries that do exist make life that much more complicated.

I was surprised to feel anxiety overwhelm me on the flight from NJ to Denver. After much reflection I began to realize why these feelings were surfacing. Denver was our home, our life full of family and friends, our jobs just months prior before we uprooted and moved to Kenya. Here I was returning to a place that I used to call home. I felt anxious, strange, and almost scared to return to Denver. Of course those feelings quickly subsided as it was wonderful to visit and spend quality time with family, friends, and old co-workers. Every day was packed with trying to visit more friends or attend events and of course there never seems to be enough time which made it hard to leave. As much as I miss everything about our lives in Denver, in the same breath I am confident in our decision to pursue our dreams in Kenya.

I have now been in Kenya for a little over a week. It still shocks me how easy I can transition from one lifestyle/culture to another – still questioning whether it’s a good thing or not? A different sense of comfort surrounds me though this time here – perhaps it’s because we had four months already to experience and get settled into life in Kenya and I am extremely grateful I am able pick up on life right where I left it in December or maybe it’s because the events of the past few months have provided me with the assurance that where we are is exactly where we should be. Regardless of what transpires during the next few months, I would have not traded the opportunity to live in Kenya for anything.

Life In Kenya, No Longer A Novelty

Enjoying a few days at my favorite yoga retreat on the Kenyan coast - luckily Madison had some business to tend to on the coast and I got to tag along

Madison and Tony, our driver (who was an ex-matatu driver) while in Western Kenya. We had a few hours before our flight departed so we ventured to Mt. Elgon. I think Tony was more excited about this trip than we were which made my day.

Madison with Joseph (in the middle - our driver) and David (Honey Care Project Officer) on the top of Nzambani Rock. After a long day of visiting farmers we got to "play" by climbing Nzambani Rock and enjoying the beautiful view of Eastern Kenya.

Nzambani Rock

Watching the sunrise while overlooking the Kakamega Rainforest in Western Kenya

A giraffe posing for a picture as we were leaving the Lake Naivasha area

While Nate was in town a group of us went to Lake Naivasha for the weekend. Madison and I ventured out on a guided safari walk one morning- it was exciting to be so close to giraffes on foot vs. from a safari vehicle

Just as with time I have become accustomed to other changes in my life, I feel as though I have mostly adapted to the fact that we are living in Kenya. I no longer jump to the side of the road when I think a car is headed towards me on the wrong side of the road when I am out for a run; I accept and now know to expect (can’t say I embrace it) the poor air quality – the smog or smell of burning garbage or exhaust from the cars or clouds of dust and dirt - as I am out for a run; I hail down and climb into the matatus as if I have been riding them for years; the sight of a cow or a goat or a sheep randomly crossing main roads during traffic doesn’t phase me (although I still crack smiles when it happens); I have come to terms with the fact that there are no formal rules while driving (at least that the people obey) except “don’t hesitate, just go;” I have learned to always take a book with me wherever I go as traffic jams can occur at anytime and can last for hours, which also leads to my understanding of “Kenyan time” – it’s foolish to expect to be on time for a meeting; I truly appreciate that the planning of meetings, events or flights is more spontaneous here and things don’t need to be planned in advance to happen the next day; I don’t let random, yet frequent power outages stop me from accomplishing the task at hand (luckily I always know where my headlamp is); the vast amount of Kenyans walking alongside the road at all hours of the day and night is now normal to me; I am not as phased by the drastic difference and close proximity between the well, established, upscale neighborhoods and the informal, underdeveloped settlements; I expect the children of the slums to yell “Mzungo, Mzungo, How are you?’ (but now I can answer them in Swahili) and to touch my skin as if I am going to feel different or to stare at me like I am a creature from outer space; I use my cell phone for quick, to the point conversations instead of long, drawn out shooting the sh*#t conversations as there is no such thing as an affordable unlimited voice/text plan (I just top up my phone with some money and use it till it runs out – my goal is to make it last as long as possible); I now realize the term “healthy” in regards to food is the exact opposite of what I know it as – here it means cooked in lots of fat and oil and/or fried or contains lots of sugar (when food security is a problem, healthy means fat for substance and sugar for energy); I no longer ask for brown rice (instead of white rice) or skim milk as it is not as common as I am used to at home; I now expect to be bombarded my menus at food courts (not that we eat at them frequently, but every so often I find myself at one) and order from the restaurant/fast food server vs. at the counter and then served at my table; and last, but not least, waking up and blindly swatting at the annoying buzz of a mosquito(s) is now accepted as part of our sleeping hours.

It still gives me slight anxiety when I think about not having a paid job anymore. Every time I use my debit card I think crap – these funds will not be replaced at the end of the month. There are times I have to remind myself that everything I am doing here is from a volunteer standpoint, and then a sense of pride flows through me. If I actually sit and think about it, it makes me proud to think how innately motivated I am. I could sleep in every day, spend hours at the gym, or lay about watching TV or reading. However, I wake up every morning with a something on my agenda – whether it’s to volunteer at the school, teach a yoga class, work with the girls at the Hawkers Markets, complete a promised task, attend a meeting, explore a new matatu route, or learn about a new NGO. I truly believe the rewards I am receiving from this experience are more than money can buy. Thank you, Madison for allowing this to happen.

My routine…. If there is such a thing ….

The girls from the Kibera School for Girls line up to use the bio-latrine

An AYP community class at a school in Kibera

Maureen and Susan preparing lunch at the Hawkers Market Girls Center

The girls working hard at rolling beads made out of recycled paper

A display of some of the products the girls create and sell

Horseback riding with the children from Fairmile School

My buddy, Keith in his classroom at Fairmile School

Here’s a brief update on what a typical week looks like for me if we are not traveling around rural Kenya for Honey Care.

Mondays – I may find myself volunteering with Africa Yoga Project (AYP) (www.africayogaproject.org) – assisting, teaching, or mentoring in yoga classes guided in informal settlements. I am in the process of brainstorming with the founder on ways I can assist the yoga teachers further in their path as a yoga instructor. If I am not with AYP on a Monday, then I am volunteering with Shining Hope for Communities (www.hopetoshine.org) in Kibera. I recently started to work with this organization and am assisting with various projects – trying to coordinate AYP with Shining Hope to establish a yoga class at their community center, creating a physical education curriculum with concrete ideas/games/activities to be implemented by the teachers at the Kibera School for Girls (thanks to the help of the P.E. teacher at my sister’s school I was able to accomplish this task), and helping with the set up of their future library.

Tuesdays - I volunteer at the Hawkers Market Girls Centre and absolutely love it! I started working with the girls (ages 18-21) on the premise of doing a leadership/empowerment course, but it has now evolved into various other activities which all relate in one way or another to my main objective. Every week I provide the girls with an activity to complete whether it be a self-inquiry assessment or a worksheet to have them start thinking about goals/objectives for their future once they graduate from the centre in December. I have helped prepare the elected girls who are going on upcoming interviews at Revlon Hair School and am also assisting all of them in writing their CVs. I am also taking the time to meet with the girls one on one to discuss their goals/objectives and what it will take to accomplish them. Madison plans on leading them through a basic marketing/business/entrepreneurship course in a few weeks, built around selling honey sachets in the slums. I also showed the girls how to roll beads out of paper - they finally took off with the project and are making some great necklaces. Last but not least, with the assistance of an AYP teacher we guide the girls through a yoga class every Tuesday.

Wednesdays and Thursdays – I volunteer at Fairmile School. I feel very fortunate that I am able to build on my pediatric PT skills while in Kenya. I am really seeing progress with one child in particular that I see on a consistent basis (pictured above). My goal is to have Keith walking independently by the time we leave Kenya. On Thursday afternoons we take the children horseback riding, where I have the opportunity to be side walker for my buddy, Keith.

Fridays – I tend to leave this day open, but without fail I have somewhere to be – I either end up having a meeting or a Swahili lesson or go and check out a new volunteer opportunity or Madison and I are traveling to a remote part of Kenya to meet with farmers/farm groups for a new business opportunity or to re-establish previous relationships with Honey Care Africa – there is never a dull moment around here for sure!

Life continues to progress nicely for Madison and I here in Kenya. I am truly loving and inspired by all that I am involved with here - especially the projects that are outside of my field/expertise as I am learning so much and growing/challenging myself outside of my comfort zone. I realize my time in Kenya at this point is limited, so I am being mindful to use my skills and efforts for projects that will be most beneficial for those at hand and most importantly are sustainable in some capacity.

Work, Work, Work, PLAY!

I sincerely apologize for slacking in posting updates, but it is the result of one thing – we have been extremely busy! You can’t fault me on that, can you? However, I have been keeping up with my journal so I will back post some entries starting with September 22, 2010.

In mid-September, our friend Nate (from Denver) came to visit us so we (Madison, Nate, Sach, and I) went to an island called Lamu on the Kenyan coast for 5 days. If we can do trips like these once a month then life would be just dandy, but I know that's not reality:) - well at least not at this point. We took a 2 hour, one propeller plane ride to the island from Nairobi. I truly appreciate the simplicity of traveling here –you can book flights 1-2 days in advance for the same price if you booked it 3 weeks in advance, you don't have to arrive at the airport 90 minutes ahead of time for domestic flights, IDs aren't checked at check-in (not sure if that’s the most secure, but it works), and you have the opportunity to identify your bags before climbing the stairs to the plane to make sure your bags come with. I have never been in a smaller plane than this (besides when I went skydiving). There were about 14 of us on the plane - I sat right behind the pilot (pictured above). Next to the pilot sat a passenger. I thought it was the co - pilot at first, but then Madison informed me it was a passenger, which makes sense as he was taking pictures the whole time and he was about 15 years old. But we made it to the island safe and sound and then took a speed boat to Shela, where we rented a house.

The house was absolutely beautiful and most peaceful (minus the construction sounds of a new house being built next door, but I didn’t let it bother me) with an unbelievable view (pictured above). It was 4 levels, 2 kitchens, 4 large bedrooms with en-suite bathrooms, and an indoor pool. The house also came fully staffed with a chef (Evans) and two assistants who were all extremely helpful. We wanted to take Evans back with us to Nairobi to be our professional chef – as all of his meals were delicious (we didn’t even venture out for dinner to a local restaurant, as we kept looking forward to the next meal he would prepare) and we enjoyed a variety of fresh seafood straight from the water in view. We were a 2 minute walk to the beach, a couple minute stroll to "town” which was comprised of various art galleries, grocery shops, restaurants, and souvenir/clothing shops. I had a love/hate relationship with the beautiful, old-style, architecture amongst the homes, buildings, and streets. Every time I left the house I had to be hopeful I would find my way back as it’s a maze of narrow walkways amongst the buildings around the island. I think it was finally on the 2nd to last day that I made it back to the home without getting lost or wandering around aimlessly for 15+ minutes before calling Madison to come and find me.

I appreciated the fact that there were no cars on the island- if you wanted to go to "Lamu town" from Shela you can enjoy a 30 minute walk, take a dhow (a wooden boat) or ride a donkey. Of course I had to experience the donkey ride from Lamu to Shela (pictured above) - my tailbone still hurts from it – but I definitely got the hang of it by the end and perhaps I will have the opportunity to do it again.

Our time on Lamu island was definitely a chilled, relaxing time had by all. There wasn’t much night life on the island (thank goodness:) so we played cards or board games at night and then hit the beds early. We all enjoyed a beautiful sunset dhow ride one evening (pictured above) and another dhow ride to ruins on Manda Island that date back to the 16th and 17th centuries. Other than that I befriended the locals on my morning runs to Lamu town, visited Jay, my tailor friend in Lamu town on a daily basis who made the boys custom pants and various skirts/dresses out of kikoys (local Kenyan cloth) for me, enjoyed walks along the beach, soaked in the sun, did some reading, and enjoyed being away after being on the “go” constantly during the previous weeks.

Back to the good ol' days of home visits

Last Thursday I went on two home visits – one was for 'W', a 5 y.o. little boy with cerebral palsy, who attends the school where I will be volunteering(school opens this week – can’t wait!) and one for 'J', a 9 y.o. girl with autism who attends a private school, but was requesting some in-home therapy ideas from Fern (the founder of the school where I will be volunteering). I can’t even tell you how good it felt to be using my PT skills both mentally and physically again. The occupational therapist and I walked to 'W'’s home – as it was in the slum, Kangemi, next to the school – and were greeted by his grandmother, his primary caregiver. 'W' greeted me with a huge, warm smile and giggle – I know we are going to be buds. I observed Joshua, the OT, working with 'W' in a very similar manner I would have, and then I assisted him with his therapy. I was quite impressed by the stander/adaptive seating device someone from the community made for 'W', although 'W' didn’t seem to be too big a fan. When the session was over we left 'W' safely lying on the couch, where he was when we arrived. The look of sadness on his face when we said goodbye made my heart drop – I couldn’t help but wonder how much of his day is spent lying on the couch. I am hopeful he will be attending school on a consistent basis, if not Joshua informed me we would be doing home visits for therapy – I was relieved to hear that.

For the second home visit, 'J'’s mother picked us all up at the school and brought us to her home. The main purpose of the visit was for Fern and Joshua to teach 'J'’s mother infant massage techniques as a calming mechanism for her daughter. After an hour or so Fern and Joshua were able to have 'J' cooperate to demonstrate/perform the massage – and I got to learn it, which I was quite enthused about. It is customary for families to feed you while you are in their homes and it is considered impolite if you refuse their offerings. Needless to say, I ate more than I needed to on Thursday – but it was delicious, authentic Kenyan food, how could one resist?

Driving Time

WE GOT A CAR! We are very fortunate that the company Madison is working for had a car going spare – so meet our Toyota station wagon, the Honey Hoo Ride. I haven’t driven it yet (yes, still very hesitant to drive here), but Madison has tooled around in it for the past few days – he is taking it slowly at first, trying to avoid the busy roads, but I give him a lot of credit for his confidence and I am quite impressed by his driving ability. We still chuckle every time he turns on the windshield wipers when trying to turn on the blinker, but it will all come with time. This is a journey after all for all of us. Now we are in the process of hiring a driver for me a few days a week – at least for the days I won’t be taking the matatus. One thing at a time, I know – at least I put it out there, so we will see what transpires.

Yoga comes from the Sanskrit word "yuj" - to yoke or bind - union

I had the fortunate opportunity to attend two of Africa Yoga Project's (AYP) community classes this past week in the slums of Kariobangi and Korogocho – I am having a hard time putting this experience into words, but I can wholeheartedly say it was an amazing, yet humbling experience. I am completely out of my comfort zone in the slums – it is 'bursting' the safe, comfortable bubble I know, but I am embracing every moment with open eyes, letting it absorb and then slowly trying to process it all. As I am invited into peoples’ homes in the slums I am trying to envision what it would be like to live here - a room made of cinder blocks or recycled material large enough to fit a bed separated from the “sitting area” by a hanging sheet, maybe a couch and a small coffee table, all of your cooking and eating supplies piled up in a corner, a curtain for a door, colorful buckets piled high outside the door for laundry and other household chores. Then it makes me think of the difference between what I have and what I really, truly need to live – quite a substantial difference - just one of the thoughts I am trying to process. I feel privileged to be invited into one’s home, I just hope they know I am not coming from a place of judgment nor pity nor an outsider just wanting to look. I think the more I come to visit or to guide yoga classes the more they will see I am here because I want to be here, I am here because it feels like the right place to be, and I am here because we are all human beings who can benefit from the powerful benefits of yoga.

On both days that I went to the community classes, the teacher of the class graciously met me at Sarakasi Dome where the Saturday morning class takes place, where the AYP office is, and where extremely talented dancers and acrobatic teams practice for performances. They took me to the matatu stop (a 10 min walk) and then we took the 30 min or so matatu ride to the slums - they even took me back to the dome after we finished class – thank goodness because I would have had no idea where to get off. I am so grateful for their generous spirit.

Tuesday’s class was at Kariobangi (pictured above). Patrick, the AYP teacher insisted I teach the class – how could I resist. I taught to a combination of mothers, younger girls and a few men. It was challenging at first to figure out the level of class to guide since there were was a range of levels in the class (beginners to advanced) so I had to feel it out and attempted to teach to all. In hindsight, I could have made the class more challenging, but now I know for next time. Everyone had a beautiful practice and what was most inspiring was their breath. Even the 2 y.o. little girls who came to class with their mothers were trying to imitate the poses – I felt myself light up inside when I saw them in Utkatasana (Chair Pose)! It was a true blessing to have the opportunity to guide them and share their energy. After the class a few of us went back to Patrick’s home to hang for a bit and then we went back to the dome.

On Wednesday I went to Korogocho, where I taught in a small community room with walls made of recycled material. Margaret (the teacher) and I took a boda boda (motorcycle) from the outskirts of Korogocho to the class. Don’t worry, I didn’t drive the motorbike – we had a driver and all three of us fit on the bike as he drove at a slow pace through the slum. We spent some time in one of the yoga student’s homes (a 24 y.o. mother who has a beautiful 10 month old baby) since we were early. Six mothers attended the class and Margaret insisted that I teach the class. The women had an amazing, authentic yoga practice. I was especially impressed by the 53 y.o. woman who moved in such a graceful manner. There weren’t any yoga mats available, but that doesn’t stop one from practicing yoga, in reality a mat is just a luxury, right? So we practiced right on the concrete floor. Again, what was so apparent was their connection to their breath (it was so audible) and the awareness of their body – they truly get it. The women loved the yoga class and asked me to come back – how could I refuse their invitation?

I left both classes with thoughts running through my mind comparing the yoga classes I taught and attended at home in luxurious studios to what I witnessed over the past two days. Without passing any judgment all I can say just as music is considered a universal language, so is yoga. Yoga can occur in the most accommodating of conditions and in the least accommodating (of course it’s all relative), but it doesn’t matter where you practice, as long as you have the mindful connection of your body linked with your breath. The transformative power of yoga continues to astound and fulfill me. Prior to AYP, yoga was considered to be only for those with money - now it has become accessible to all socioeconomic classes and only spreading from here. I cannot even begin to imagine how the powerful effects of yoga has helped and changed the lives of the men, women and children here in Kenya.