A letter to Bristol
on It began in Africa (Kenya), 03/Aug/2011 10:28, 34 days ago
Last week Ed and I traveled to the small town ofMukurwe-ini, Nyeri County, in Kenya's Central Highlands, to deliver training to KAIH parent support groups in the area. Sandwiched between the Aberdares and the foothills of Mount Kenya, the area is all lush green hillsides, rich red soil and cool, damp mist: Kenya's highlands are the polar opposite of the haunting images all over the news from drought-stricken Northern Kenya.I arrived a day earlier than Ed as I had planned a whole day's workshop introducing communications to representatives from the parent support groups. Because this branch of KAIH is called KAIH Nyeri I (not unnaturally) assumed I would be going to Nyeri, and only found out after I had left town on the Nyeri bus that I was going the wrong way. I kicked myself for a while because this mistake falls into the rookie category of "failing to ask the right question" - I should never have asked my colleagues, "how do I get to Nyeri?", I should have asked, "where am I going?". Just when you think you have Kenya all sorted out... Anyway, with some manouvreing the regional coordinator (a lovely man by the name of Erastus) helped me get back on track and (after a scramble up a hill) we arrived.Of course I had told Erastus that I would arrive at 11am, so the programme he circulated started from 8.30am. And of course I had requested a small group of no more than 12 people who should all be interested in communications and have reasonable English, so when I arrived there were 25 people, many of whom thought I was there to talk about how to communicate with children with severe intellectual disabilities, and some of whom spoke only limited English.Still I gave it a shot, and at least I managed to get some laughs during the role play exercises when I pretended to be a village chief. I may even have got one or two converts and one lady, a teacher, said to me at the end of the day, "now I know how to speak to journalists!". The English part of my brain is still not sure whether to be pleased or terrified by that. The photo shows the group standing outside the Greek Orthodox Church where we held the training. This was the first time I had delivered the workshop and I felt there was a lot of room for improvement on my side, but at least I've made a start (after nine months).Meanwhile Eddie had arranged to leave Nairobi with our colleague, Evans, at 2pm, so of course they didn't set off until gone 5pm and arrived after dark. Work trips in the UK for me mean Travel Lodges, mediocre food and (if you're very lucky) a small glass of house merlot. In contrast, Erastus had arranged for us to stay in a bird sanctuary. While the accommodation was fairly basic, there were hot showers and the lovely environment was a real bonus.The following morning we began our visits to the parent groups, where I would be introducing grassroots communications (essentially encouraging the groups to seek out and co-opt key stakeholders at the local level). Ed would be introducing the micro-finance project, KAIH Family, to be followed up by his colleague Evans explaining in detail in the local language, Kikuyu.As you can see, it's a very different environment from the kind of places where we're used to delivering presentations; it's certainly the first time my ramblings about stakeholder engagement have been interrupted by a cockerel, at any rate. While the people here are in much better circumstances than communities further North (the farmland is good and they've had some rain this year, so they have food to eat), poverty is still a serious issue and many parents struggle to balance caring for a seriously disabled child with the need to farm their land or go to work. The KAIH Family project will include training on business skills to help this community make the most of their resources.The area is remote so public transport has its own quirks too. On some routes even matatus take too long to fill (they won't leave the stage until every seat is taken, and then some) so instead you see battered-old five seater estate cars acting as a halfway house between a bus and a taxi. Most have cracked windscreens, limited suspension and dented bodywork, and they cram and wedge passengers in a way that makes matatus seem conservative. It wasn't uncommon to see three people in the boot, four across the rear seats, two sharing the front passenger seat and two sharing the driver's seat! Don't believe it? Check out the picture - the car wasn't even an automatic! And of course it's a very hilly area, so when your handbrake gives up the ghost it's fine just to use a stone wedged behind one back wheel.We toured four parent groups in the two days, and what with the journey times and general lack of any kind of hurry they were long days, with us back after 7pm both nights. The groups made up for it though, mainly by singing to welcome us and to introduce an elaborate hand shaking ritual. They also have a whole new level of clapping, which I love. It would start with Erastus saying, "flowers for the visitors", and then everyone would hold their hands in the air and shake them before all giving one big clap. Women would get four rounds of this and men five (typical!).As always, there was a lot of status conferred to us because we're white, which we both still find at best disconcerting, and at worst downright bizarre. Erastus told me at one point that one of his colleagues had said to him: "I did not know KAIH was having such important connections with the outside world." So at least we were bumping his status. On the other hand, during one long speech in Kikuyu our colleague Evans turned to us and whispered, "They are saying thank you to God for bringing the white people." We have been in Kenya long enough to just raise eyebrows at each other and carry on, but that kind of comment feels pretty uncomfortable.The praying seems crazy to heathens like me and Eddie too. Despite being perpetually late by as much as two hours, we still prayed at the start and end of every meeting, for every meal, every cup of tea and every chappati, for everyone's safe travel, for the actions of the meeting to be blessed by God and for everyone's wellbeing. While I can't help but find this tedious at the time, the consideration for other people is touching in retrospect!In fact, the people in general were nothing but kind, sincere and welcoming. At our final meeting I was even given "a letter for Bristol", which turned out to be a traditional African bag made by the group and filled with locally grown oranges and bananas. Of course there was a big presentation and I had to carry the bag with my head like a Kenyan lady, amid a lot of laughter and hilarity.That's not to say everything was easy. The morning we were due to leave we arranged to be collected at 8.30am. When 11am rolled around and we were still sitting outside our accommodation because our colleagues were waiting for an arrowroot delivery we reverted to mzungu-type and promptly hopped on a matatu back to Nairobi and left them to it.To readers from the UK this probably seems entirely sensible, but I have no doubt our colleagues thought us incredibly rude, as we violated two key Kenyan principles:1) Everything must be done together, however inconvenient for all involved.2) Time isnotmoney - "just wait" is probably the most overused phrase in Kenya.But after three days on pole-pole time (and with my Birthday weekend and a bottle of wine ahead of us) we couldn't hold out anymore and had to get European. It's hard work being a foreigner all the time.Still, for all that I look forward to going back to Nyeri soon to continue the training, soak up the fresh air and green things, and probably eat my own body weight in bananas and chai. This final photo was taken at the request of the young girl (because she thought I looked "so smart" - the ultimate Kenyan compliment). She has learning difficulties, but with the help of KAIH and the teacher of her special needs unit she is now studying hairdressing at the local polytechnic. I can't think of a better reason to sit through eight hours of speeches in a language I don't understand, to be hours late for my own 30th Birthday celebrations and to put up with being "the white people."