Let me know how much you like the blog/how funny and cool I am/ how much you want to be like me
Apologies
Dear friends,
I sincerely apologize for my lack of blogging as of late. It has been a long while since my last post. My deepest apologies go out to those who are genuinely madat me. I have received many hate emails from former fans of KellerinKenya. blogspot.com, who have vowed never to read another post in protest of my careless, irresponsible, non-blogging ways. Many of the hate emails were from people who severely hate their jobs. These people have been telling me that seeing pictures of me in Kenya makes their work day just a little less miserable. One reader even told me that the Rat Scratch Fever post changed his life. Actually, that's a complete lie. But that be hilarious if it were true.
Save Darfur
Before you go any further, do yourself a favor and check out savedarfur.org, and click on the link that lets you write an email to Dubya telling him that the situation in southern Sudan is out of control, and that the time to act is now. I will try to sum up what has been going on there for a few years in a couple of sentences:
Basically a couple years ago, there were two major rebel army groups who were gaining power and were about to challenge the government. To suppress the rebel uprising, the president hired militis called Janjaweeds, and ordered them to go after any person who shared the same tribal background as the rebels. So basically the Janjaweed has been raping, torturing, and killing anyone they have come in contact with. Hundreds of thousands have been murdered, milllions have been displaced from their homes, either fleeing the country or being put in refugee camps, where International Aid workers have been denied teh chance to help in fear of attacks from the militias.
And tell anyone you keep in touch with to go to this site as well. It takes a few minutes tops. I figured since the only people who read this website are my mom, my sisters, and my old tap dance instructor, we can probably get 15-20 signatures.
(Thanks to Delaware County rock legend Matt Johnson for the link to that site)
Kwaheri Malava/Jambo Nairobi
Anyways, I have a good excuse for why I haven't posted in a while. I actually moved out of Malava. I asked the Sisters if could possibly move to Nairobi, with the hopes of finding my own ministry to volunteer for, and they agreed. I left Malava a few days later for the capital city. I slept on Sandy and Arielle's couch for about 2 weeks, spending most of my time taking showers with running water and studying swahili, then finally found a place in a section of the city called South B. I am staying at NGO's volunteer guest house. So I went from living without running water and good electrcity, to living on a couch/out of a suitcase, to living in a house with running water, electricity, and even television (Kenyan television= awful Kenyan sitcoms and rap videos).
The NGO is called the DKA Support Group, and they actually ran our orientation for the first week that I was in Nairobi. It's hard to explain how many people this organization helps. One of their largest projects, the MSDP (Mukuru Slum Development Project), consists of multiple programs to help the residents of the Mukuru slums. They provide art projects/soccer leagues for the street kids, counseling for people who are HIV positive, and economic empowering projects, giving out loans to help people try to start a business venture (selling produce, clothing, etc). I am help working with MUSA, the Mukuru Sports Association, which basically means I get to play soccer every afternoon.
And in the mornings, I am working at St. Mary's Secondary School, which is located in the Kingston section of the Mukuru slum. I am teaching form 3 (high school juniors) English. The first day was very intimidating, to say the least. I asked that for my first day, I could just sit in class and watch how the teacher conducted his lesson. Unfortunately, like most schools in slum areas, St. Mary's is severely underfunded, and the forty kids in the classroom share 7 text books. That's right: 40 kids, 7 textbooks. So after class, I asked the principal if I could bring in some of my own reading material for the class, and base my lesson around that. He thought it was a great idea, so I went downtown, got online, and printed out 40 copies of the bio of Wayne Rooney, one of the best soccer players in the world.
The kids loved it. I even got 15 good vocab words out of the bio, and they will be quizzed on their definitions next week. So after the first lesson, I let the kids decide who they wanted to read about next. Some suggestions from the students:
-Akon
-Nas
-Ludacris
-Beyonce
-Celine Dion*****
-50 Cent
-Snoop Dog
-UB40*****
-Tupac
-Rihanna
(*****=For some reason that is way beyond my realm of understanding, artist is extremely popular among Kenya's youth, which is simultaneously ridiculous/hilarious)
It was unanimous: Tupac Shakur will the subject of our next lesson. It should be a good time. The kids are great, and I am hoping that it will be a fun semester. The only thing that I am not looking forward to is when, if at all, more textbooks come in and I have to try and teach these kids about transitive verbs, predicate adjectives, and indirect objects.
Here are some good shots I have of life in Malava. I have to admit, I have already started miss the place. It is an absolutely beautiful village. Rural life is very laid back and easy, and I grew accustomed to the simple lifestyle. Life in Nairobi is basically the opposite of life in Malava. The most noticeable differences, besides the option of showering, is the sights. The people of western Kenya are extremely poor, but they live on acres of farmland, growing their crops, and they have nice little huts, and their nice, chill lifestyle. You wouldn't notice the abstract poverty without working directly with the villagers for an extended period of time.
In Nairobi, however, the poverty is unbelievably blatant: the pollution, the overcrowdedness, the street kids/homeless people everywhere on the streets/the milllions of people forced to live in the horrific conditions of the slums. Walking around Nairobi is quite the experience. I feel blessed that I am getting the chance to experience both the rural life and the urban life of Kenya.
I'll shut up now. Enjoy the view.
This is Samuel. He is the night security guard at the St. Julie Center. His job is to sit in a shack next to the Center from 6pm-6am every night. Interesting fact about Samuel: he has multiple wives. I heard he's looking for another, so if any of you ladies back home are interested, I'll put in a good word.
One of Malava's busiest intersections
Cows doing what they do best: hangin out (that tree is damn cool)
My neighbor's hut
Father and son herding cattle
Take your idea of what a dive bar is and throw it out the window. Then again, that's if you consider this a bar. It's basically a shack made of mud, manure, and wood, that has a guy sitting in a corner selling beer
Dusk in Malava was always a sight to behold
Life as an inadequate athletics instructor
I have been getting many requests to post some shots of my glory days as assistatant basketabll coach at Malava Boys Secondary School. I remember talking about how we didn't have a basketball net to play with, so we just played keep away every day. To everyone's suprise, the school put a net up a couple of weeks before the final tournament in Kakamega. We didn't make to the provincial torunament, because we placed 6th in Kakamega, and only the top 4 teams make it. But the season was a blast. The students at Malava Boys were some of the coolest kids I have ever met.
This is actually a pic of a bunch of students. Malava Boys hosted track and field events one Saturday morning, so I went over to support the squad.
This Bolton, Jack, Mikey, Walter, and two kids from the field hockey team.
Very cool shot taken by one of my players
This is the head coach Abner making a weird face
One thing that I felt was necessary for the guys to learn is tap drills. It's when you have two lines, one line on each side of the rim. The first guy, standing right under the basket, throws the ball off his side of the backboard and runs to the back of the line, so the guy behind him can catch the ball in mid air and do the same. Sounds pretty easy right? I wish I had this on video. Basketballs were flying over fences, into trees, and even hitting volleyball players on the field next to us in the face. To maintain some type of order, Abner and I decided that the person responsible for messing up the tap drill was required to do ten push ups
This is me starting tap drills. See that ball flying in the distance behind the basket? Yea, lots of push ups were handed out that day
This me laughing because I messed up the tap drill and had to do ten push ups. I was laughing to hide the deep fear that I wouldnt be able to do ten push ups
This is me about to buckle after push up number 3. The kid to the right of me is named "fat". He was the self-proclaimed "fatest kid in all of Kenya." Fat actually told me that when he finishes secondary school, he is moving to New Orleans to live with his uncle, and is going to see if he can make it as a competitive eater.
Alan striking a pose
Chesoli just realizing that he's going to have to do ten push ups.
This is me generously sharing my vast knowledge of basketball with one of the youngins. The kids knew I was the real deal the second I stepped onto the court (court= patch of dirt and rocks). Any time I spoke, they listened intently, knowing how profound every word that came out of my mouth was.
Me: "you see, Kelion, the key to a balanced offensive attack consists of two things: motion and spacing. If all of the offensive players are standing around in the same area, it will be easy for the defense to take control. But if all five players are spread out and moving the ball quickly, the defense will be caught off guard, giving us chances for open shots and even lay ups."
Kelion: "your hair is disgusting."
(awkward silence)
Me: "Give me 5,000 push ups."
New Crib
New Crib
Ok, so that whole thing about living in the DKA house was just a hoax. I just wanted my mom to think I had a nice, safe place to live while in Nairobi. I actually got a new place by myself. Given that I'm a man with style and class, and I wanted my house to exude those qulaities. The price is irrelevant. What I want, I get. The landlord thought he was going to boss me around and give me a MUZUNGU price, but I said "EH BUANA, SI TAKI (Hey Mister, I don't want) MUZUNGU PRICE!" AFter that line, he knew I meant business. I got a good deal shortly afterwards. Check out the new estate
