Oyaore uhru!!! ("Good morning everyone!" in Dholuo, the language of theLuo tribe)
I can't believe we've been in Kenya for nearly a week now. This is the first time I've had access to internet, as there is no electricity orrunning water in Lwala, the remote eastern village where we are living. To give you an idea of the journey to reach the nearest town withinternet, we walked 5 miles, then took a 45 minute bus ride unlikeanything I've ever experienced. It was hot and crowded and SO bumpy, butamazing. Women were lined up on the side of the road sellingfruit--mangos, avocadoes, HUGE stocks of sugarcane more than 10 feet tall,etc.-- because Mondays and Thursdays are market days. But just to put things in perspective, this short trek brought us to a grand total of 20miles walked in the last 2 days…we usually walk just under 10 miles a day.
I don't even know where to begin in explaining what life is like here. We stay in mud huts. I sleep under a mosquito net. And I carry water on my head from about 4 minutes away when I want to bathe, or I bathe in the river. I’ve learned that those with a salary (the wealthiest) live on around $15-$20 a month, though the most common occupation is sustinance farming, which means the food is eaten and not used for profit. Before coming, I heard all of the statistics… one in three children in Lwala have been orphaned because of AIDS, 25% of men and 40% of women are infected with the HIV/AIDS virus… but it’s so different being here. It seems unreal when I stop and think about those statistics applying to the people who have now become my friends. There isn’t a feel of hopelessness or depression in the village. People are incredibly friendly and lively, and despite the fact that we only know short phrases in Dholuo, whenever we walk anywhere, people want to stop and welcome us to the village.
In April of this year, the Erastus Ochieng’ Memorial Clinic, in honor of Fred and Milton’s father, opened up and, from what I understand, changed the lives of the villagers. Before the clinic was opened, the nearest medical clinic was 9 miles away, in Rongo, and the only doctor in the area was often 16 miles away at the hospital. Since April, the clinic has seen over 1,000 patients from Lwala and other surrounding villages. Dr. Bill Young from Dartmouth is spending the summer in Lwala helping in the clinic since there is currently no permanent doctor. Some of the current projects in the village include a malaria study, a study of worms in children, a mosquito net distribution project (to help prevent malaria), and the protection of a water spring. Last year the Christian rock band Jars ofClay (who started the Blood:Water Mission) came to Lwala to build a water pump, which is where the people here get their water for everything—including bathing, washing clothes, washing dishes, and drinking. Though this pump is much more convenient than the stream that was once the only source of water, we recently discovered that it contains ecoli. The protection ofthe water spring will not guarantee that all harmful ailments are eliminated, but it will keep animals from defecating in the water supply, as well as keep the water moving, which will reduce the chance of bacteria growth.
Since we’ve arrived in Lwala, I’ve sort of adopted 2 little brothers: 10 year old Toby and 14 year old Harrison. Harrison is wonderful at English and Toby is picking up phrases. At night we play BS a lot, and I just laugh and laugh at how that is the only time Toby breaks out his English. “Twoo Threeeeees?” he asks in his Kenyan accent, with this look across his face like he’s trying to interrogate you. Then he calls “BS!!!!” and always seems to wind up with half the deck jumbled into his little hands. We also play a game similar to Checkers called Draf, although I think Toby cheats because whenever I don't understand a move, he spits a new rule at me. I’ve started calling him “ouadua,” which means brother in Dholuo, and every now and then I get a “yamenua,” the word for sister, back.
Yesterday we walked 5 miles to have a meal that Omondi’s wife Betha cooked for us. I have never seen so much food. It was amazing! So far the food has been really good. I love the rice and meat, which is a treat here, but as guests we're spoiled. I am ashamed to say that I was the first one out of the group to get sick. But I survived. I was laying in bed all morning with a stomach ache, and Toby and Harrison came in individually and asked me if I had malaria. That question really grabbed my attention; malaria here is as common as the flu…but deadly.
So far, the highlight of being here has been the kids. Most of the kids in the village have never seen a white person before. Some are scared because of the myth that white people eat children, but most are just curious and run from their homes yelling “Mzungu!!! Mzungu!!!” (the Dholuo word for a white person). I’ve played soccer a few times but usually end up just kicking a ball around with Japolo, Milton and Fred’s cousin, before he plays real soccer with the Lwala men's soccer team. Even though my Dholuo vocabulary is extremely limited, the kids are so fascinated with us. They sit in groups and just stare in awe at us, until one brave soul musters up the courage to run up, touch one of us, then sprint back to the group of kids who are all giggling hysterically. It never gets old.
Two nights ago, the local church choir came and sang to us after dinner. Such strong, harmonized, beautiful voices singing by candlelight leave me without words to describe the experience. Though I didn’t understand the songs, which were sung in Swahili, I felt it in my chest… It took my breath away. Watching Toby get up from the audience to go sing and dance with the group was one of the coolest things I’ve ever seen. There was such an overwhelming sense of culture and community. There was no age that the tradition of religion and singing and dancing became uncool. Toby was proud to take part, and it was the most incredible thing to witness.
I can't believe we've been in Kenya for nearly a week now. This is the first time I've had access to internet, as there is no electricity orrunning water in Lwala, the remote eastern village where we are living. To give you an idea of the journey to reach the nearest town withinternet, we walked 5 miles, then took a 45 minute bus ride unlikeanything I've ever experienced. It was hot and crowded and SO bumpy, butamazing. Women were lined up on the side of the road sellingfruit--mangos, avocadoes, HUGE stocks of sugarcane more than 10 feet tall,etc.-- because Mondays and Thursdays are market days. But just to put things in perspective, this short trek brought us to a grand total of 20miles walked in the last 2 days…we usually walk just under 10 miles a day.
I don't even know where to begin in explaining what life is like here. We stay in mud huts. I sleep under a mosquito net. And I carry water on my head from about 4 minutes away when I want to bathe, or I bathe in the river. I’ve learned that those with a salary (the wealthiest) live on around $15-$20 a month, though the most common occupation is sustinance farming, which means the food is eaten and not used for profit. Before coming, I heard all of the statistics… one in three children in Lwala have been orphaned because of AIDS, 25% of men and 40% of women are infected with the HIV/AIDS virus… but it’s so different being here. It seems unreal when I stop and think about those statistics applying to the people who have now become my friends. There isn’t a feel of hopelessness or depression in the village. People are incredibly friendly and lively, and despite the fact that we only know short phrases in Dholuo, whenever we walk anywhere, people want to stop and welcome us to the village.
In April of this year, the Erastus Ochieng’ Memorial Clinic, in honor of Fred and Milton’s father, opened up and, from what I understand, changed the lives of the villagers. Before the clinic was opened, the nearest medical clinic was 9 miles away, in Rongo, and the only doctor in the area was often 16 miles away at the hospital. Since April, the clinic has seen over 1,000 patients from Lwala and other surrounding villages. Dr. Bill Young from Dartmouth is spending the summer in Lwala helping in the clinic since there is currently no permanent doctor. Some of the current projects in the village include a malaria study, a study of worms in children, a mosquito net distribution project (to help prevent malaria), and the protection of a water spring. Last year the Christian rock band Jars ofClay (who started the Blood:Water Mission) came to Lwala to build a water pump, which is where the people here get their water for everything—including bathing, washing clothes, washing dishes, and drinking. Though this pump is much more convenient than the stream that was once the only source of water, we recently discovered that it contains ecoli. The protection ofthe water spring will not guarantee that all harmful ailments are eliminated, but it will keep animals from defecating in the water supply, as well as keep the water moving, which will reduce the chance of bacteria growth.
Since we’ve arrived in Lwala, I’ve sort of adopted 2 little brothers: 10 year old Toby and 14 year old Harrison. Harrison is wonderful at English and Toby is picking up phrases. At night we play BS a lot, and I just laugh and laugh at how that is the only time Toby breaks out his English. “Twoo Threeeeees?” he asks in his Kenyan accent, with this look across his face like he’s trying to interrogate you. Then he calls “BS!!!!” and always seems to wind up with half the deck jumbled into his little hands. We also play a game similar to Checkers called Draf, although I think Toby cheats because whenever I don't understand a move, he spits a new rule at me. I’ve started calling him “ouadua,” which means brother in Dholuo, and every now and then I get a “yamenua,” the word for sister, back.
Yesterday we walked 5 miles to have a meal that Omondi’s wife Betha cooked for us. I have never seen so much food. It was amazing! So far the food has been really good. I love the rice and meat, which is a treat here, but as guests we're spoiled. I am ashamed to say that I was the first one out of the group to get sick. But I survived. I was laying in bed all morning with a stomach ache, and Toby and Harrison came in individually and asked me if I had malaria. That question really grabbed my attention; malaria here is as common as the flu…but deadly.
So far, the highlight of being here has been the kids. Most of the kids in the village have never seen a white person before. Some are scared because of the myth that white people eat children, but most are just curious and run from their homes yelling “Mzungu!!! Mzungu!!!” (the Dholuo word for a white person). I’ve played soccer a few times but usually end up just kicking a ball around with Japolo, Milton and Fred’s cousin, before he plays real soccer with the Lwala men's soccer team. Even though my Dholuo vocabulary is extremely limited, the kids are so fascinated with us. They sit in groups and just stare in awe at us, until one brave soul musters up the courage to run up, touch one of us, then sprint back to the group of kids who are all giggling hysterically. It never gets old.
Two nights ago, the local church choir came and sang to us after dinner. Such strong, harmonized, beautiful voices singing by candlelight leave me without words to describe the experience. Though I didn’t understand the songs, which were sung in Swahili, I felt it in my chest… It took my breath away. Watching Toby get up from the audience to go sing and dance with the group was one of the coolest things I’ve ever seen. There was such an overwhelming sense of culture and community. There was no age that the tradition of religion and singing and dancing became uncool. Toby was proud to take part, and it was the most incredible thing to witness.
A few days ago, Abbie took me swimming in the river, and since then I’ve become slightly obsessed. I keep trying to go but the past couple of days we haven’t gotten home until dark. Hopefully today I will be able to go before an interview I’m conducting with one of the secondary school scholarship recipients. It costs around $400 a year for secondary school (high school) in Kenya, so this scholarship will help immensely.
Oriti!!!
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