Oh it has been more than a week since I last wrote! Apologies. A lot has been going on. Especially in the past four days. I am ever so slowly realizing how complex it is to live in a society ruled by tribes and tribal conflicts. Last week Ben, Robin and I began sending out emails requesting donations for various projects that we would like to complete in the next week and a half (Robin has a bit more time, as she is staying a couple of weeks longer than us). You probably got my email- and thank you to all that have donated so far! I can now begin planning all of my small projects, and we can start funding some start-up business groups at the camp. In fact, today I am in Gilgil to purchase all the supplies for the Nursery School blackboard, and I am hiring one of the very active camp members to install it. Ben was extremely successful in raising funds to build one of our favorite (and hardest working) camp members a house, as his tent burnt down in November, and he is left bunking with a friend in his tent, while his wife and children live far away with family. But, hopefully, by the end of next week, Daniel and his family will have their own house! Robin has been working on determining exactly what she wishes to raise money for, and it looks like right now she is going to work toward piping water to the camp. So yes, things are moving. And then again, things are not.
Ben and I took a weekend vacation to Lake Baringo, about 4 hours northwest of where we live, simply to just sit around and not operate on grandma time for a full two days. It was really nice. Similar to our last weekend trip, we stayed on a very hippo-filled lake. However, this time there was no electric fence to keep the hippos out! Let me tell you, when you have to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night, but you can hear a hippo munching and grunting outside your tent, you decide it is probably better to hold it until daylight.
Upon returning to the camp however, situations had not been that good. Evidently a camp member had been killed by the Maasai for stealing a goat ("beheaded" was the actual term they used, but we realized later just his throat had been cut). The Maasai are known to be one of the fiercest warrior tribes in Africa, and they were the tribe that pushed most of our camp residents out of their old area during the 2008 crisis. Well, whatever genius decided to purchase land for the IDP camp just so happened to purchase on the Maasai grazing path, so tensions have been rough ever since they moved in last year. The Maasai don't want people on their grazing grounds (they are nomadic, so really, these grazing grounds are everywhere), and the camp is extremely scared of the Maasai, so they get a little crazy when tensions are high. Almost all of the camp is Kikuyu, a naturally non-violent tribe, so they have no weapons. After the police came and interviewed a witness to the crime (evidently some man on a hilltop somewhere), it was realized that the dead man was not in fact stealing a goat, but involved in a relationship with the Maasai man's wife. Ahhh yes, your typical crime of passion. Alright, so you think this would put everyone at ease. It wasn't really about tribes, so we're all good, right?
Wrong. The night after we came home I woke up in the middle of the night. Struggling out of my dream, I eventually came to and realized I woke up becuase people were wailing, and children were screaming. Like they were in pain screaming. I woke Ben up because I was horrified. Of course I thought the worst. Being in a dream-like state still, I imagined the Maasai burning down the camp and coming to our house next. Alas, after looking out the window, and hearing the commotion die down, I realized someone's tent was burning down. It was a cold night and I figured they had left the cook fire burning too long, and the tent caught on fire. Ben insisted that everything was fine (though I'm pretty sure he wasn't really awake for any of this). We found out the next day that 7 children (no parents) had been in the tent, and all were taken to the hospital for burns. Luckily, only one was seriously hurt, and all would be released sometime this week. Still. Scary.
That takes us to this morning. This morning I walked to town with Camp Secretary John, and he relayed to me the intricacies of everything that has been going on this week. Last night, no one in the camp slept. Around 7 pm, just as the sun went down, a man from camp spotted the Maasai at the base of the hill that the camp sits on. They were carrying arrows and torches. The women and children all slept in the school house, while the men guarded camp all night, through the pouring rain. The Maasai never made a move, but the fear is there. John insisted that they were probably just guarding their livestock, but it had horrified everyone. Peace talks need to come soon, or the culture of fear will take over and something bad will happen. The District Officer is coming to camp today to talk to people about a meeting time, and I really hope all will be resolved in a meeting of some sort. No one in camp is sleeping, and for good reason! John has also been in communication with two other IDP camps in the area, and they have been experiencing trouble with the Maasai as well. It's like going back in time. Or like being part of rival gangs. Africa. That's all I can say.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
the elders.
"I used to sit in the middle of the village with my guitar on one knee, and a beautiful woman on the other," said 73-year old Waweri, smiling, during my first community-assessment interview. I couldn't have picked a better Ebenezer member to start with. Waweri, confined to a wheelchair for the past 10 years or so (he doesn't really remember, and claims his paralysis from the waist down is due to "old age") was a hoot. He talked of working on the home shamba (farm), working for the Italians on a major peanut farm (a job from which he incurred various injuries...and he showed me all of the scars for proof, don't worry), but his emphasis was on the music he played during his younger years. Before his father broke his guitar in a fit of rage, Waweri played for the village he came from almost every night, which to him was a natural talent, but also came in handy when woo-ing the ladies. In fact, halfway through the interview my translator left me- and I was left with Waweri, babbling in Kikuyu, and playing an air guitar for me with a toothless smile.
Our asset-assessments thus far have been going very well, everyone is MORE than willing to talk to us (yesterday I had a line of people waiting), and most are very interesting to talk to. Granted, there are some very young, uneducated, single mothers that have less than one word to talk about, but that was to be expected. They are, in fact, the ones that we hope to help the most- by pairing and grouping them with more experienced, outgoing, talented older community members, so that they don't fall between the cracks and bring their children with them. Yesterday I talked to a variety of people, but three of the community's elders were the highlights of the day. One older woman (and I can't for the life of me remember her name) talked about how much she would like to give cultural talks to the community, because no one remembers where they come from, or what their tribe was (and is). She used to make traditional costumes, baskets, beads and loved to dance...While right down the road from her a younger woman also makes beads, but has not restarted her craft post-violence. Another young woman, my age actually, with 5 children, has had an onset of random illness (unidentifiable by doctors she said) since the violence occured. Ranging from headaches, to stomach aches, joint pain and nausea - the only thing doctors told her was that perhaps, it was ulcers. My non-medical degree would say, post-traumatic stress? Sometimes I forget what these people went through, but the results and effects that are not easily seen from the outside lie deep within. Some of the residents have been dislocated at least 4 times in the past 30 years.
Over the next few days I hope to compile a list of things needed, little pet projects that I have been thinking about over the past few weeks where I can help make a donation to the camp in a viable, but not entirely unattainable manner. Like a guitar for Waweri, so that he can give guitar lessons. Or the start-up funds so that women can have a knitting group. Or a chalkboard for the Nursery school. So everyone, look out! I may be asking for money sometime soon. Not a lot, just a little to go a long way.
Our asset-assessments thus far have been going very well, everyone is MORE than willing to talk to us (yesterday I had a line of people waiting), and most are very interesting to talk to. Granted, there are some very young, uneducated, single mothers that have less than one word to talk about, but that was to be expected. They are, in fact, the ones that we hope to help the most- by pairing and grouping them with more experienced, outgoing, talented older community members, so that they don't fall between the cracks and bring their children with them. Yesterday I talked to a variety of people, but three of the community's elders were the highlights of the day. One older woman (and I can't for the life of me remember her name) talked about how much she would like to give cultural talks to the community, because no one remembers where they come from, or what their tribe was (and is). She used to make traditional costumes, baskets, beads and loved to dance...While right down the road from her a younger woman also makes beads, but has not restarted her craft post-violence. Another young woman, my age actually, with 5 children, has had an onset of random illness (unidentifiable by doctors she said) since the violence occured. Ranging from headaches, to stomach aches, joint pain and nausea - the only thing doctors told her was that perhaps, it was ulcers. My non-medical degree would say, post-traumatic stress? Sometimes I forget what these people went through, but the results and effects that are not easily seen from the outside lie deep within. Some of the residents have been dislocated at least 4 times in the past 30 years.
Over the next few days I hope to compile a list of things needed, little pet projects that I have been thinking about over the past few weeks where I can help make a donation to the camp in a viable, but not entirely unattainable manner. Like a guitar for Waweri, so that he can give guitar lessons. Or the start-up funds so that women can have a knitting group. Or a chalkboard for the Nursery school. So everyone, look out! I may be asking for money sometime soon. Not a lot, just a little to go a long way.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
week 3.
We're halfway done! With time that is, halfway done with projects... well, that could take a lifetime. The week started with a trip to Naivasha and Hells Gate National Park, a 1 1/2 hour ride from Gilgil on two matatus (read: minibus crammed with at least 14 people). But, the transport was only about $1.50 and we were a world away from the camp, which was pretty welcome at that point. There occurs a time during every trip I have taken when I get a little anxious. Not for any particular reason, just because. This was it. It probably also had to do with the fact that it was my birthday, and let's face it, I've never really been into my birthday (for reasons unknown to me). But this was going to be a very relaxing vacation, for sure.
We rented a "banda" (read: small house with 4 beds and a bathroom) for about $30/night on the shores of Lake Naivasha. It was UBER RELAXING. We ate delicious food and drank beer from the open air patio of the restaurant on the lodge's grounds- they even had 'sticky' chocolate cake for dessert! Though I am not sure how sticky played into the cake at all. At 6:30 pm every night, a two foot high electric fence was activated and spotlights were turned on so that we could view the hippos coming out to graze. Big, fat, and hairless, I was pretty much satisfied with everything I saw over the three days we were there. After a relaxing first day, the following morning we woke up early to rent bicycles to ride through Hells Gate National Park. 8 hot, dusty, sweaty hours later, we had seen more herds of zebras than I had ever imagined in my life. The park has amazing topography- cliffs and rock monuments, rolling grasslands and acacia forests. Pretty much everything you think of when you think of African landscape. And by bike- fantastic!! Though the first turn we took was probably the wrong one (think, biking uphill through sand in search of "Obsidian Caves" that actually don't exist anymore because they collapsed 5 years ago... thanks for changing the signage, park employees), we ended up with sore backsides that were well worth the journey. We determined that we rode a total of 40km (rough estimate) mostly in sand or on rocky surfaces on 20 year old mountain bikes with names like "CHevrolet, the Heartbeat of America". Hahaa, only here. We pretty much got up close an personal with warthogs, zebras, gazelles, kudus, antelope, and 2 giraffes! I was actually 100 yards from the giraffes, but Ben and Robin were much much closer- I was a little jealous. It was a low point in the ride and I was struggling behind....you know, typical heat exhaustion. I was glad we didn't encounter any hostile animals...because really, I cannot imagine trying to out-bike a rhino or wildcat. I could hardly out-bike myself walking. Our third and final day was spent lounging again, mostly in the same chair all day. It was fantastic. Though we knew we had to go back to the camp, it re-energized and vamped our spirits for the next three weeks, especially because I know Ben and I will have some more supre awesome times post-volunteering.
Back at the camp this week it was slow going. Everyone was kind of in a rut. Our assessment project keeps being pushed back for some reason or another (laziness on part of our interpreters? Not really sure) And the greenhouse roof ripped off over the weekend due to high winds. Ben spent an entire morning fixing it HIMSELF, without the help of anyone at the camp for some reason, while I held his rickety ladder steady so that he wouldn't kill himself in the name of some 500 tomato plants. The camp was supposedly "preparing for a meeting" with some government official, which in the end, didn't even happen. Yesterday I took charge and said that we should start this interview process, interpreter or not. So we started with Rev. John (everyones name is john, and this one is on the way to becoming a reverend..hence the nickname). He was the perfect person to start with! He is probably the most motivated person in the camp, having worked as a mason, carpenter, on an industrial wheat farm, owned his own restaurant, and many many other talents. I think a direct quote of his was something like, "I can do pretty much any job." He is totally motivated, but lacks connections with people in the camp to start projects with. Hopefully our project will help this! Ben and I were invited to dinner at his tent last night where we had ugali and greens (much tastier than the ones we have at home) with he and his wife and their 5 children. While Ben talked to John about anything and everything (the usual question/answer session that takes about 3 hours with every Kenyan we meet), I talked to the youngest two boys, ages 8 and 11 about school and soccer. They both have VERY good English skills, most definitely due to the ferocity of wit and intelligence of their parents.
Well, must cut this short so that I can respond to some emails, and return to the camp to do some more interviewing!
We rented a "banda" (read: small house with 4 beds and a bathroom) for about $30/night on the shores of Lake Naivasha. It was UBER RELAXING. We ate delicious food and drank beer from the open air patio of the restaurant on the lodge's grounds- they even had 'sticky' chocolate cake for dessert! Though I am not sure how sticky played into the cake at all. At 6:30 pm every night, a two foot high electric fence was activated and spotlights were turned on so that we could view the hippos coming out to graze. Big, fat, and hairless, I was pretty much satisfied with everything I saw over the three days we were there. After a relaxing first day, the following morning we woke up early to rent bicycles to ride through Hells Gate National Park. 8 hot, dusty, sweaty hours later, we had seen more herds of zebras than I had ever imagined in my life. The park has amazing topography- cliffs and rock monuments, rolling grasslands and acacia forests. Pretty much everything you think of when you think of African landscape. And by bike- fantastic!! Though the first turn we took was probably the wrong one (think, biking uphill through sand in search of "Obsidian Caves" that actually don't exist anymore because they collapsed 5 years ago... thanks for changing the signage, park employees), we ended up with sore backsides that were well worth the journey. We determined that we rode a total of 40km (rough estimate) mostly in sand or on rocky surfaces on 20 year old mountain bikes with names like "CHevrolet, the Heartbeat of America". Hahaa, only here. We pretty much got up close an personal with warthogs, zebras, gazelles, kudus, antelope, and 2 giraffes! I was actually 100 yards from the giraffes, but Ben and Robin were much much closer- I was a little jealous. It was a low point in the ride and I was struggling behind....you know, typical heat exhaustion. I was glad we didn't encounter any hostile animals...because really, I cannot imagine trying to out-bike a rhino or wildcat. I could hardly out-bike myself walking. Our third and final day was spent lounging again, mostly in the same chair all day. It was fantastic. Though we knew we had to go back to the camp, it re-energized and vamped our spirits for the next three weeks, especially because I know Ben and I will have some more supre awesome times post-volunteering.
Back at the camp this week it was slow going. Everyone was kind of in a rut. Our assessment project keeps being pushed back for some reason or another (laziness on part of our interpreters? Not really sure) And the greenhouse roof ripped off over the weekend due to high winds. Ben spent an entire morning fixing it HIMSELF, without the help of anyone at the camp for some reason, while I held his rickety ladder steady so that he wouldn't kill himself in the name of some 500 tomato plants. The camp was supposedly "preparing for a meeting" with some government official, which in the end, didn't even happen. Yesterday I took charge and said that we should start this interview process, interpreter or not. So we started with Rev. John (everyones name is john, and this one is on the way to becoming a reverend..hence the nickname). He was the perfect person to start with! He is probably the most motivated person in the camp, having worked as a mason, carpenter, on an industrial wheat farm, owned his own restaurant, and many many other talents. I think a direct quote of his was something like, "I can do pretty much any job." He is totally motivated, but lacks connections with people in the camp to start projects with. Hopefully our project will help this! Ben and I were invited to dinner at his tent last night where we had ugali and greens (much tastier than the ones we have at home) with he and his wife and their 5 children. While Ben talked to John about anything and everything (the usual question/answer session that takes about 3 hours with every Kenyan we meet), I talked to the youngest two boys, ages 8 and 11 about school and soccer. They both have VERY good English skills, most definitely due to the ferocity of wit and intelligence of their parents.
Well, must cut this short so that I can respond to some emails, and return to the camp to do some more interviewing!
Friday, January 29, 2010
week 2.
I would like to say it's hard to believe that we have been here two weeks already, but in reality, it feels like we have been here months. Not in a negative way, but simply because we have gathered and learned SO much information in the past two weeks- not only about the IDP camp, but about the area and Kenya in general. I think I have used my brain more since arriving in Kenya than I have since college. It feels good.
At the beginning of the week we completed the (beg pardon) godforsaken greenhouse! After determining that we would need to chop the greenhouse plans in half and leave the remainder for construction at a later date, we worked furiously hard on Monday to remove and re-build one wall of plastic. The few volunteers that were left on this project were as unenthusiastic as we were, but we did it! It is finished! On Tuesday the seedlings were planted, and most of them are taking quite nicely to the soil. The entire project is very ill-planned, as whoever decided to donate this obviously did not think about the climate and situation of the people at the camp. We ran out of donated water today (water is about 20 cents/5 liters, and the plants take about 500 liters a day...do the calculations), but luckily our contact (Irene) at VICDA came through and gave us some more money and promised a water truck (80,000 liters) to come next week. I think that she now realizes how ridiculous the project is, and hopefully it will impress her enough that she will follow up with potential donors in the future as to the logistics and site-specific requirements of each project.
While Ben worked on expanding and perfecting the chicken coup (he got 9 very enthusiastic volunteers to help!), Robin and I went to the Pipeline IDP camp near Nakuru, about a half hour's drive from Kikopey. Pipeline is a camp of 1,000 families, roughly 6,500 people. It is huge. With this major increase in size comes (obviously) more funding, projects, and talents. It was a fantastic visit because it not only gave us community-organizing ideas (about what works and what doesn't work), but it also gave us a new spirit of inspiration (which we desperately needed after the greenhouse situation). We met with the Camp Chairman and Secretary, and then were given a tour by a current volunteer (read: total space cadet) in their medical clinic. Two of the original volunteers to the camp were an older couple from Australia, and upon leaving, they donated a very substantial medical clinic and business center, solar panel, library, and tin house for a "special needs" school. They also have a security guard, a community center, a huge chicken coup, a greenhouse (same donor as ours), a school, and a fish pond. They are also in the process of building tin and wood houses for all residents (see www.gvnfoundation.org for more info). We learned that with more people there are not only more problems (mostly health related), but more willing people and more talents to draw from. Nonetheless, the chairman and secretary still admitted that sometimes, it is just them building something. And most of the time, people don't agree with what they have to say. But like all good leaders, they take it into consideration and pursue what they believe to be best for everyone. Pipeline was a good base, a great foundation that we can look at for ideas on how to begin to organize our small camp. What is one crucial thing that Pipeline has that we are in complete deficit of? Water. They have a pipe that supplies water directly, at no cost, from the town of Nakuru. Funny how something so simple can change the way everything works.
So, why don't we have water? We found out from Irene that the District Commissioner for Naivasha (our DC) basically sucks. The DC for Nakuru made sure the IDP camp had a water source almost immediately upon moving in to their new land, whereas ours has denied any involvement for the past year. Robin and I were about to go pound on his door the next day- but the Kenyan Government just (today!) established a new position for a DC of Gilgil- our town! So, we're going to hit this guy while he's new, and find out what it takes to get water to the camp, and residents of our valley. We should be meeting with him next week. If not, I'm getting Amnesty International in here. There is water in the mountains, why can't we have any?
After talking to those at Pipeline, and another volunteer that was just leaving Pipeline after a 6 month placement, Robin and I decided it was best to begin our Asset-based Census project ASAP. What Ebenezer needs is some group inspiration. And calling them together as a group doesn't work. So we figured, why not go house to house and perform a census? Mapping the community both physically and through assets/talents will (hopefully) identify common interests, talents, and ideas. Though we know there would be no "concrete" or physical result from this project, we really do believe it will create some crucial ties and bonds that will help Ebenezer become more cohesive in the future. Performing an asset-based assessment is relatively new, as most assessments of communities are done based on 'need'. Though we will be deciphering needs through this as well, we hope to focus more on past successes, future dreams, and solid talents and skills to inspire both the residents and their leaders in forward growth and cooperation. And we get to meet everyone in the camp! We are going to start this up next week, and we really don't know how long it will take... it depends on how much people want to talk to us. While focusing on smaller side projects in the morning (like talking to the DC), we will perform the census mostly in the afternoons/evenings, when people are home. Then, hopefully, we can evaluate the material and go from there! We hope to encounter ideas and stories that will help us to identify how we can best direct funding and VICDA, so that money isn't wasted, as it was in the greenhouse. Better yet- we can map out future projects so that when more volunteers come here, they will have an idea where to start!
I also went to school this week! I have wanted to go for a while now, but I finally had time on Wednesday. Nova had 45 children that day, ages 3-5. Yikes. It was a lot of kids. Luckily, she is young and fun, but overworked and underpaid- as usual. She is basically a volunteer, receiving 50ksh/month, per child. The equivalent of $0.75/mo/child. Just being there, though I didn't know the language, helped out a ton- I could focus on discipline while Nova taught. Flustered and tired, during the children's recess, she came over and asked "what should I do?". She is so sweet. So, the next day, we met and talked for almost two hours about teaching methods and lesson plans. In fact, we created a notebook of information (as much as I could provide with my random teaching experience!), and mapped out a theme-based lesson plan for the next 12 weeks. She seems really excited about it, and I am too. She's going to begin next week, when she has volunteers (we recruited 5!) to help her. It was like pulling teeth to get people to help out (seriously, how hard is one hour per week, when school is 5 steps from your house?? ) but I feel like the 5 we roped into it will actually find it much easier than they think. I will help out when I can, hopefully for an hour everyday, and just be there as support while she tries out different teaching methods.
Wow. Maybe I should try writing more than once a week. I never get to talk about when we're not working! Basically all we do when we're not at the camp is read, write, talk and eat. We just discovered this place in town (Kikopey) where we can get a leg of delicious goat and a beer for like $4- and no one bothers you! It is a daily temptation. Especially when you have dry yams and tea for two meals in a row. FYI- the stomach does not respond well to starch-on-starch. For the second yam meal I insisted they let me make yam pancakes with pico de gallo... because I couldn't even imagine trying to swallow dry yams again. Ben needs to get his ass (pardon) in the kitchen sometime soon. I think he's a little disheartened by the fact that they laugh at him whenever he says he's a chef. I told him that just one meal would change their minds.... we shall see. Perhaps this weekend- we're going to Hell's Gate National Park (you can bicycle through with giraffes and rhinos!) and Lake Naivasha (flamingos and hippos!), and hopefully we are going to have a kitchen and a real bed. Did I mention we are in bunk beds in an 8'x 12' room? Hilarious. I love it.
At the beginning of the week we completed the (beg pardon) godforsaken greenhouse! After determining that we would need to chop the greenhouse plans in half and leave the remainder for construction at a later date, we worked furiously hard on Monday to remove and re-build one wall of plastic. The few volunteers that were left on this project were as unenthusiastic as we were, but we did it! It is finished! On Tuesday the seedlings were planted, and most of them are taking quite nicely to the soil. The entire project is very ill-planned, as whoever decided to donate this obviously did not think about the climate and situation of the people at the camp. We ran out of donated water today (water is about 20 cents/5 liters, and the plants take about 500 liters a day...do the calculations), but luckily our contact (Irene) at VICDA came through and gave us some more money and promised a water truck (80,000 liters) to come next week. I think that she now realizes how ridiculous the project is, and hopefully it will impress her enough that she will follow up with potential donors in the future as to the logistics and site-specific requirements of each project.
While Ben worked on expanding and perfecting the chicken coup (he got 9 very enthusiastic volunteers to help!), Robin and I went to the Pipeline IDP camp near Nakuru, about a half hour's drive from Kikopey. Pipeline is a camp of 1,000 families, roughly 6,500 people. It is huge. With this major increase in size comes (obviously) more funding, projects, and talents. It was a fantastic visit because it not only gave us community-organizing ideas (about what works and what doesn't work), but it also gave us a new spirit of inspiration (which we desperately needed after the greenhouse situation). We met with the Camp Chairman and Secretary, and then were given a tour by a current volunteer (read: total space cadet) in their medical clinic. Two of the original volunteers to the camp were an older couple from Australia, and upon leaving, they donated a very substantial medical clinic and business center, solar panel, library, and tin house for a "special needs" school. They also have a security guard, a community center, a huge chicken coup, a greenhouse (same donor as ours), a school, and a fish pond. They are also in the process of building tin and wood houses for all residents (see www.gvnfoundation.org for more info). We learned that with more people there are not only more problems (mostly health related), but more willing people and more talents to draw from. Nonetheless, the chairman and secretary still admitted that sometimes, it is just them building something. And most of the time, people don't agree with what they have to say. But like all good leaders, they take it into consideration and pursue what they believe to be best for everyone. Pipeline was a good base, a great foundation that we can look at for ideas on how to begin to organize our small camp. What is one crucial thing that Pipeline has that we are in complete deficit of? Water. They have a pipe that supplies water directly, at no cost, from the town of Nakuru. Funny how something so simple can change the way everything works.
So, why don't we have water? We found out from Irene that the District Commissioner for Naivasha (our DC) basically sucks. The DC for Nakuru made sure the IDP camp had a water source almost immediately upon moving in to their new land, whereas ours has denied any involvement for the past year. Robin and I were about to go pound on his door the next day- but the Kenyan Government just (today!) established a new position for a DC of Gilgil- our town! So, we're going to hit this guy while he's new, and find out what it takes to get water to the camp, and residents of our valley. We should be meeting with him next week. If not, I'm getting Amnesty International in here. There is water in the mountains, why can't we have any?
After talking to those at Pipeline, and another volunteer that was just leaving Pipeline after a 6 month placement, Robin and I decided it was best to begin our Asset-based Census project ASAP. What Ebenezer needs is some group inspiration. And calling them together as a group doesn't work. So we figured, why not go house to house and perform a census? Mapping the community both physically and through assets/talents will (hopefully) identify common interests, talents, and ideas. Though we know there would be no "concrete" or physical result from this project, we really do believe it will create some crucial ties and bonds that will help Ebenezer become more cohesive in the future. Performing an asset-based assessment is relatively new, as most assessments of communities are done based on 'need'. Though we will be deciphering needs through this as well, we hope to focus more on past successes, future dreams, and solid talents and skills to inspire both the residents and their leaders in forward growth and cooperation. And we get to meet everyone in the camp! We are going to start this up next week, and we really don't know how long it will take... it depends on how much people want to talk to us. While focusing on smaller side projects in the morning (like talking to the DC), we will perform the census mostly in the afternoons/evenings, when people are home. Then, hopefully, we can evaluate the material and go from there! We hope to encounter ideas and stories that will help us to identify how we can best direct funding and VICDA, so that money isn't wasted, as it was in the greenhouse. Better yet- we can map out future projects so that when more volunteers come here, they will have an idea where to start!
I also went to school this week! I have wanted to go for a while now, but I finally had time on Wednesday. Nova had 45 children that day, ages 3-5. Yikes. It was a lot of kids. Luckily, she is young and fun, but overworked and underpaid- as usual. She is basically a volunteer, receiving 50ksh/month, per child. The equivalent of $0.75/mo/child. Just being there, though I didn't know the language, helped out a ton- I could focus on discipline while Nova taught. Flustered and tired, during the children's recess, she came over and asked "what should I do?". She is so sweet. So, the next day, we met and talked for almost two hours about teaching methods and lesson plans. In fact, we created a notebook of information (as much as I could provide with my random teaching experience!), and mapped out a theme-based lesson plan for the next 12 weeks. She seems really excited about it, and I am too. She's going to begin next week, when she has volunteers (we recruited 5!) to help her. It was like pulling teeth to get people to help out (seriously, how hard is one hour per week, when school is 5 steps from your house?? ) but I feel like the 5 we roped into it will actually find it much easier than they think. I will help out when I can, hopefully for an hour everyday, and just be there as support while she tries out different teaching methods.
Wow. Maybe I should try writing more than once a week. I never get to talk about when we're not working! Basically all we do when we're not at the camp is read, write, talk and eat. We just discovered this place in town (Kikopey) where we can get a leg of delicious goat and a beer for like $4- and no one bothers you! It is a daily temptation. Especially when you have dry yams and tea for two meals in a row. FYI- the stomach does not respond well to starch-on-starch. For the second yam meal I insisted they let me make yam pancakes with pico de gallo... because I couldn't even imagine trying to swallow dry yams again. Ben needs to get his ass (pardon) in the kitchen sometime soon. I think he's a little disheartened by the fact that they laugh at him whenever he says he's a chef. I told him that just one meal would change their minds.... we shall see. Perhaps this weekend- we're going to Hell's Gate National Park (you can bicycle through with giraffes and rhinos!) and Lake Naivasha (flamingos and hippos!), and hopefully we are going to have a kitchen and a real bed. Did I mention we are in bunk beds in an 8'x 12' room? Hilarious. I love it.
Saturday, January 23, 2010
on the big screen?
http://www.nation.co.ke/News/-/1056/847600/-/vpemm9/-/index.html
On our way to town today with Samuel and John, we heard that in today's Nation (Kenyan newspaper) there was an article- about our IDP camp! Evidently a Danish film crew came two months ago and used camp property and camp residents in the filming of their movie- about a white doctor in Darfur. Hm. Interesting. Samuel and John were both very excited about the whole thing (John was even quoted in the article!), but after further reading, Robin and I determined that this was kind of a weird situation. I'm still not really sure how I feel about it, from an ethical standpoint. I mean, these guys came in and paid the IDPs minimal wages (which to them of course, seemed more than enough) for their participation in a movie about Sudanese refugees. The residents of the camp that were lucky enough to look like residents of Sudan were chosen as participants, and now that Sudan has found out about it they are very angry. For good reason. An interesting moral dilemma. Check out the link for a picture of the camp though! The two men sitting in the background are two of the hardest workers on our current greenhouse project.
Ah yes, the greenhouse. Yes dad, it does require a lot of water. We don't really get why they chose tomatoes as opposed to say... potatoes? Other root vegetables that require less water? We did ask them, and the simple fact was that it makes more money at market. We still don't know how we are going to keep them alive. Right now we are trying to focus on the task at hand. A few of our questions were answered the other day when our contact at VICDA (the volunteer organization in Nairobi) came to visit. Irene told us that they had provided funds for the entire start-up of a greenhouse at three separate IDP camps. The other two camps are already producing, and have harvested their first crop. We, evidently, got the slacker camp. Samuel and John said that they did in fact try to start the project when they received supplies two months ago, but in the middle of the night someone stole 30 meters of plastic from the exterior. It took us 10 seconds to look around the camp and find who it was. 50 feet from the greenhouse was a tent entirely covered in neon yellow plastic. Hm.
Shortly after the plastic was stolen, Samuel and John removed the remaining plastic, for fear others would steal the remaining. And they kind of put the project off. I think they were probably partially embarrassed and partially scared to talk to VICDA about it. They are the leaders of this camp, and they have a hard time actually "leading" the people in any sort of direction. I believe they encounter more difficulties dealing with their residents than any other camp in the area. In fact, the 240 family camp was recently split into two camps- Ebenezer A and B- we think because the people that DID work together didn't want to deal with the others any more. Yikes. So, we had to regroup. Our tomato plants are ready to be planted in the ground- the seedlings are currently being held at two other IDP camps with functioning greenhouses- so we have to cut our greenhouse in half. Originally we thought about buying the extra plastic to make up for the missing piece, but when we heard that it was stolen we decided it would be better to work with what we had. Hopefully we can get it all done by Tuesday! Meanwhile, the chicken coup awaits it's remodel... hopefully no chickens die in this waiting period. It's pretty dirty in there. Like, 2" of chicken crap dirty.
More about what Robin and I hope to do in the form of Asset Based Assessment for the camp next week.... we want to go around and talk to everyone at the camp, each in their own homes, about their talents, their strengths, and just basic information about their families. There is no documentation of anything here, and I think it would be great to have a map, both physical and asset/need based in order to identify where each resident can help/participate, and where donors, if they are absolutely necessary, can give for the greatest return. Because no one works well together, maybe we can hit them on the individual level...and ease them into the idea of teams and groups. Yep. More on that later.
On our way to town today with Samuel and John, we heard that in today's Nation (Kenyan newspaper) there was an article- about our IDP camp! Evidently a Danish film crew came two months ago and used camp property and camp residents in the filming of their movie- about a white doctor in Darfur. Hm. Interesting. Samuel and John were both very excited about the whole thing (John was even quoted in the article!), but after further reading, Robin and I determined that this was kind of a weird situation. I'm still not really sure how I feel about it, from an ethical standpoint. I mean, these guys came in and paid the IDPs minimal wages (which to them of course, seemed more than enough) for their participation in a movie about Sudanese refugees. The residents of the camp that were lucky enough to look like residents of Sudan were chosen as participants, and now that Sudan has found out about it they are very angry. For good reason. An interesting moral dilemma. Check out the link for a picture of the camp though! The two men sitting in the background are two of the hardest workers on our current greenhouse project.
Ah yes, the greenhouse. Yes dad, it does require a lot of water. We don't really get why they chose tomatoes as opposed to say... potatoes? Other root vegetables that require less water? We did ask them, and the simple fact was that it makes more money at market. We still don't know how we are going to keep them alive. Right now we are trying to focus on the task at hand. A few of our questions were answered the other day when our contact at VICDA (the volunteer organization in Nairobi) came to visit. Irene told us that they had provided funds for the entire start-up of a greenhouse at three separate IDP camps. The other two camps are already producing, and have harvested their first crop. We, evidently, got the slacker camp. Samuel and John said that they did in fact try to start the project when they received supplies two months ago, but in the middle of the night someone stole 30 meters of plastic from the exterior. It took us 10 seconds to look around the camp and find who it was. 50 feet from the greenhouse was a tent entirely covered in neon yellow plastic. Hm.
Shortly after the plastic was stolen, Samuel and John removed the remaining plastic, for fear others would steal the remaining. And they kind of put the project off. I think they were probably partially embarrassed and partially scared to talk to VICDA about it. They are the leaders of this camp, and they have a hard time actually "leading" the people in any sort of direction. I believe they encounter more difficulties dealing with their residents than any other camp in the area. In fact, the 240 family camp was recently split into two camps- Ebenezer A and B- we think because the people that DID work together didn't want to deal with the others any more. Yikes. So, we had to regroup. Our tomato plants are ready to be planted in the ground- the seedlings are currently being held at two other IDP camps with functioning greenhouses- so we have to cut our greenhouse in half. Originally we thought about buying the extra plastic to make up for the missing piece, but when we heard that it was stolen we decided it would be better to work with what we had. Hopefully we can get it all done by Tuesday! Meanwhile, the chicken coup awaits it's remodel... hopefully no chickens die in this waiting period. It's pretty dirty in there. Like, 2" of chicken crap dirty.
More about what Robin and I hope to do in the form of Asset Based Assessment for the camp next week.... we want to go around and talk to everyone at the camp, each in their own homes, about their talents, their strengths, and just basic information about their families. There is no documentation of anything here, and I think it would be great to have a map, both physical and asset/need based in order to identify where each resident can help/participate, and where donors, if they are absolutely necessary, can give for the greatest return. Because no one works well together, maybe we can hit them on the individual level...and ease them into the idea of teams and groups. Yep. More on that later.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
mzungu (aka "white person" in swahili)
To all those who are wondering whether we in fact fell off the face of the earth, we did not! It being about a week since we left the good old USA, I figured it was about time I wrote a little something. Now inhabiting the outskirts of the small town of Kikopey, near Gilgil, we have been at the Ebmezer IDP camp for about 5 days. Ben and I are staying with Theresia, an older woman who lives on her own, but has a revolving circus of relatives and children constantly coming to help her out (something is wrong with her foot... I think she broke it a while back and it is now pretty severely infected...thus why she has the house help). Her house is 5 steps from the IDP camp, so getting to work in the morning is super easy! She has been feeding us so much food that I think I will probably come back home 20 lbs heavier than when I left. After spending the last couple of months whittling my stomach down to miniscule proportions (thinking that we would not be eating that much), both Ben and I have been forcing down three huge plates a day of delicious food. Potatoes with beans and corn, chapatis with lentil and goat stew, pancakes and eggs in the morning...seriously, FAR more food than I can afford when living on my own. And the "ugali" that guidebooks say is the nastiest Kenyan staple food? Not bad. Actually, quite delicious. Think corn flour made to a mashed potato consistency. Everything is turning out to be very good, except of course, the condition of the IDP camp. We are starting our term of 6 weeks with another volunteer, Robin, who has worked in an international volunteer organization in San Francisco for the past couple of years.
When we arrived on Sunday, we got the tour. We would be working with Samuel and John (everyone has English names and Kenyan names, English are easier), who are the Camp Chairman and Secretary, respectively. Samuel gave us the low down and we hung out with some of the kids, and returned the next morning to start "work". Monday and Tuesday were spent brainstorming. The facts: There is very little water. There is little food. There is no source of income for the camp residents. There are no other organizations working in the camp. In fact, all other organizations pulled out about a year and a half ago, when the crisis wasn't a "crisis" anymore. Perhaps the most difficult aspect of the residents of the camp that we have run into (and will surely prove to be a continual challenge throughout our stay) is their unwillingness to work as a group. The Kikuyus (the most populous tribe in Kenya, and the residents of the camp) are known to be stubbornly individualistic, almost to a fault.
After hearing all of these things, it was hard to know where to start. Obviously, water is critical. When the 240 families at Ebmezer relocated from a more massive camp at Lake Naivasha 1 year ago, they moved to the current location hoping they could start anew. They purchased their own piece of land, hoping to farm little by little and get back on their feet. However, the camp sits on a hill. The hill is about a mile from a lake. Unfortunately, it is a salt lake. The sodium deposits in this area have robbed the soil of almost all nutrients and rendered most water sources nearby unusable. The closest water source for the residents is 7km away during the dry season (which happens to be right now), and most of the residents are single mothers who lost their husbands in the violence...making it hard leave the home to retrieve water. During the wet season it is better, but no one has any means of water collection. There are 4 unused tanks right now, because no one has come up with a way to capture the rainwater (it is hard to put a gutters on a tent).
Right now we are working on brainstorming ways to collect water more efficiently during the rainy season, for cheap or free. I'm actually looking that up on the internet right now! In the meantime, we have two other projects underway, things that were started that no one ever cared to finish (see what I mean about the unwillingness?), and LOADS of ideas for other things. Most of the unwillingness probably has to do with the fact that when you are hungry, or when you are thirsty, you can't think about anything else. Even if that something else is going to help you in the long run. Samuel (camp chairman) is a very inspirational man, but to a fault. I'm pretty sure he makes false promises to these residents (like all politicians). But, the good thing about him is this: he wants people to come together in the camp, even if it is the last thing they want to do. Because he knows it will help them. Which is what we all believe too! So while here, we are the enforcers of group work and group participation in any and all projects that we start. Because in reality, this camp is theirs. They cannot rely on outside donors or funding ANY MORE. They seem to rely on it right now, even though it is little and far between. We want to make them more sustainable, because that is what will help them grow as a community and as individuals.
The two projects we are beginning with are 1) a greenhouse for 1,000 tomato plants (some supplies and plants donated by someone... sometime and never finished), and 2) a functioning chicken coup (they have one right now, but it is overcrowded, dirty, and there are like 5 roosters. I mean come on, this is not going to work). The past two days have been spent constructing the greenhouse, slowly but surely, with most of the help provided by the male residents (when given a task, men will do something!). Unforunately, the ladies sat around and barked orders yesterday, and didn't even show up today. You'd think, with 1,000 people living there, more than 10 people would show up (especially when you don't have a job...), but no. We need to work on this. The chicken coup project, led by Ben's passion for farming chickens (he is SO EXCITED to be using farm knowledge. seriously.), will start when this project is over, hopefully next week. We also have ideas for many other things, but I won't bore you. I'll try to write more this weekend. It's hot. It's dirty. But we petted a cheetah and Africa is proving to be awesome.
When we arrived on Sunday, we got the tour. We would be working with Samuel and John (everyone has English names and Kenyan names, English are easier), who are the Camp Chairman and Secretary, respectively. Samuel gave us the low down and we hung out with some of the kids, and returned the next morning to start "work". Monday and Tuesday were spent brainstorming. The facts: There is very little water. There is little food. There is no source of income for the camp residents. There are no other organizations working in the camp. In fact, all other organizations pulled out about a year and a half ago, when the crisis wasn't a "crisis" anymore. Perhaps the most difficult aspect of the residents of the camp that we have run into (and will surely prove to be a continual challenge throughout our stay) is their unwillingness to work as a group. The Kikuyus (the most populous tribe in Kenya, and the residents of the camp) are known to be stubbornly individualistic, almost to a fault.
After hearing all of these things, it was hard to know where to start. Obviously, water is critical. When the 240 families at Ebmezer relocated from a more massive camp at Lake Naivasha 1 year ago, they moved to the current location hoping they could start anew. They purchased their own piece of land, hoping to farm little by little and get back on their feet. However, the camp sits on a hill. The hill is about a mile from a lake. Unfortunately, it is a salt lake. The sodium deposits in this area have robbed the soil of almost all nutrients and rendered most water sources nearby unusable. The closest water source for the residents is 7km away during the dry season (which happens to be right now), and most of the residents are single mothers who lost their husbands in the violence...making it hard leave the home to retrieve water. During the wet season it is better, but no one has any means of water collection. There are 4 unused tanks right now, because no one has come up with a way to capture the rainwater (it is hard to put a gutters on a tent).
Right now we are working on brainstorming ways to collect water more efficiently during the rainy season, for cheap or free. I'm actually looking that up on the internet right now! In the meantime, we have two other projects underway, things that were started that no one ever cared to finish (see what I mean about the unwillingness?), and LOADS of ideas for other things. Most of the unwillingness probably has to do with the fact that when you are hungry, or when you are thirsty, you can't think about anything else. Even if that something else is going to help you in the long run. Samuel (camp chairman) is a very inspirational man, but to a fault. I'm pretty sure he makes false promises to these residents (like all politicians). But, the good thing about him is this: he wants people to come together in the camp, even if it is the last thing they want to do. Because he knows it will help them. Which is what we all believe too! So while here, we are the enforcers of group work and group participation in any and all projects that we start. Because in reality, this camp is theirs. They cannot rely on outside donors or funding ANY MORE. They seem to rely on it right now, even though it is little and far between. We want to make them more sustainable, because that is what will help them grow as a community and as individuals.
The two projects we are beginning with are 1) a greenhouse for 1,000 tomato plants (some supplies and plants donated by someone... sometime and never finished), and 2) a functioning chicken coup (they have one right now, but it is overcrowded, dirty, and there are like 5 roosters. I mean come on, this is not going to work). The past two days have been spent constructing the greenhouse, slowly but surely, with most of the help provided by the male residents (when given a task, men will do something!). Unforunately, the ladies sat around and barked orders yesterday, and didn't even show up today. You'd think, with 1,000 people living there, more than 10 people would show up (especially when you don't have a job...), but no. We need to work on this. The chicken coup project, led by Ben's passion for farming chickens (he is SO EXCITED to be using farm knowledge. seriously.), will start when this project is over, hopefully next week. We also have ideas for many other things, but I won't bore you. I'll try to write more this weekend. It's hot. It's dirty. But we petted a cheetah and Africa is proving to be awesome.
Friday, April 17, 2009
bienvenidos a costa rica y nicaragua
Hey, guess what? I went on another trip this spring! Actually, I´m still technically on that trip. I thought about blogging at the very beginning of my excursion, and then realized that internet access 1) was minimal, and 2) cost a lot of money. So I never started. But right now I am staying at a fabulous hostel in Granada, Nicaragua, and there is amazingly fast FREE internet! Plus, I have been feeling inspired by the slew of interesting and crazy people we have met in the past few weeks, so I thought I would share a bit about the trip, the people, the food (not much to be said about this), and globetrotting in general. Read on if you so desire!
I guess I will start at the beginning. During a dark, dark day this winter, sitting in the Izaak Walton Inn bar Essex, MT , desparately trying to connect to the internet on my laptop, I realized that I needed to go somewhere again this spring. Nepal could not be beat (and I´m convinced it never will be), but the bug was itching below the surface to go somewhere. Anywhere. Preferably somewhere warm. I began to research flights. I began to ask friends.
It took about a week, maybe two tops, before purchasing my ticket to Costa Rica. I threw up the ideas of New Zealand and Australia, but to be honest, I would need a lot more money to travel those countries than I had in my wallet. Especially if I wanted to do them justice. So when I stumbled upon the $309 round-trip airfare from Chicago to San Jose, Costa Rica, I couldn´t pass it up. Seriously? $300? I couldn´t even get one way to Kalispell like that (which was proven later, when I flew home from Kalispell. It was meant to be, or so it appeared.
A month went by, and four friends had joined onto the trip. It was turning out to be quite the excursion! Though Em, Chels, and Amanda could only stay for about 10 days, Becca was to stay with me (in our non-working, globetrotting fashion) the whole time! Yiipeee! Unfortunately, time would prove otherwise, as Becca was forced (forced by the hands of the Yellow Fever Vaccination Police!) to stay 10 extra days in Bogota, Colombia, effectively missing two of the three girls entirely. That was a bummer. But she had a great time in Colombia (check out her blog at www.rebeccamcneilsmith.blogspot.com for photos, etc.) and I can´t wait to do South America someday. The gals and I traveled to Manual Antonio, where we sat on the beach, got our dangerously white skin effectively burned, chased monkeys (or rather, were chased by monkeys), and spent a lot of time sweating. We then went to Monteverde, where we ziplined and ate delicious Argentinian-inspired cuisine in a Quaker town, and learned how cheese is made (and sampled, and sampled). And then the ladies left. And then there were two of us.
There were two things that I learned the first two weeks in Costa Rica. 1) The country houses an exhorbitant amount of Americans and Canadians, and 2) This has created an economy where things cost just as much as they do in the US. This was bad for the wallet. I would have to be extremely frugal in the following 4 weeks, as I had spent the greater percentage of my savings on the first two weeks alone. What follows is how that worked, and how I began to actually enjoy the country, finances aside! (note- I tend to be paranoid about money. especially when I´m in another country and I don´t have any. And they don´t take credit cards. Anywhere.)
When Becca and I travel, we like to do things. Not just bum around from town to town (which actually, I could do quite readily), but actually be involved in something, even if for a short time, while we are in a place. Thus, before embarking on our journey, we had planned to volunteer at two separate locations, each for a week. Because Becca missed the first 10 days she was supposed to be in Rica, Chels and I met her in Alajuela, a smaller city right outside of San Jose. Alajuela failed to impress us upon arrival two weeks before, but this time around we we became enchanted by the festivites in the park on a Sunday; an orchestra concluding their set with the Star Wars theme, a clown with two hilarious dogs that did jumping tricks, and gymnasts (or maybe just teenagers throwing each other into the air on cement surfaces... not really sure). The full day of people-watching did not stop, as our hostel for the night was owned by one of the most adorable, charismatic Costa Ricans I have met- Eduardo Rodriguez. Not only was he an extremely attractive sculptor and race bike enthusiast, but he made us homemade ceviche (lemon-juice cooked fish with ginger and cilantro) and let us in on some of his Peruvian box wine. Seriously, I cannot describe this man. He was hilarious. As the night went on he described to us how he learned yoga from his dog, impersonated a pipe-organist, and tried on my new jacket, which apparently he found very stylish. Becca and I both left our new trendy winter coats with him until we return to Alajuela this Monday...and we´re hoping he hasn´t been wearing them out on the town. And if he has, I hope he has taken pictures. The next day Chelsea was to go back to Minnesota, but not before one final round of tanning and swimming! Because Alajuela is in the Central Valley and not near any beaches, we decided to hit up the "Ojo de Agua". The Eye of Water sounded pleasant enough, but in reality it was a huge, decent waterpark where Ticos (Costa Ricans) go to play. Because we were there pretty early in the morning we had it mostly to ourselves, with the exception of some sweet water aerobics classes. Hilarious.
The next day Becca and I were off to our first volunteer experience; Cabañas Siempre Verde in Mastatal. Now, as many things have gone on this trip, we had no idea where Mastatal really was. We thought we knew the general direction, but it is on no maps. No one had ever really heard of it. My Spanish was (and continues to be) atrocious. Becca´s is a little better, thank the good lord. We took a bus to Puriscal, where we were instructed to find the bus to Mastatal or Zapaton "kiddie corner from the carniceria across from the bigger Supermora". There are five different carnicerias within a block of the Supermora. Not joking. But of course, we found the correct waiting spot, and in about 3 bumpy hours we had arrived in Mastatal. It did exist! Cabañas is a family farm, with sustainable building projects, farming, and Spanish classes lead by 25 year old Marcos, who originally wanted to be an English teacher in town, but realized he didn´t like disciplining children. Instead, he started a Spanish school, built some sweet cabañas in the middle of the rainforest, and recently married a 19 year old American volunteer named Sarah. Their relationship is something that Becca and I pondered over the entire week. Sarah, recently graduated from high school at 17, traveled to Costa Rica to volunteer on a chocolate farm in Mastatal (we got chocolates there one day, DELICIOUS) and met Marcos. They pretty randomly decided to get married about 6 months ago, and were married in January. Neither Becca nor I could even imagine being in her shoes right now, as she went from Southern California living to a farm in the middle of nowhere Costa Rica. Crazy. Nonetheless, we loved the couple and their company and spent 7 beautiful days helping them out. Though we really only did about 2 hours of "farming" (the ground was too dry to do anything other than seeding), we did manage to make a decent rocking chair, one of Marcos´random projects that involve copying some piece of furniture that he likes and making his own version. Our final test of whether or not it could hold a human body proved successful! If it hadn´t, we probably would have started to question our purpose. The town was absolutely gorgeous, high in the mountains with hikes to bubbling rivers and waterfalls, hammocks overlooking vistas, and open-air cabañas to sleep in in the rainforest. Though the entire time I was horrified of poisonous snakes (the first night we walked down to the cabañas, we saw one coiled to attack, and from that point on I wore rubber boots to bed), it was probably one of the most beautiful places I have ever been in my life next to (Nepal and Glacier, obviously).
We bid Mastatal adieu after our week on the farm, leaving at daybreak to catch the first of three buses to "the coast". Again, we really had no idea where we were going, but we were told by Marcos and Sarah that Esterillos was a really nice, sparsely populated area, with a cheap place to stay called Cabinas Mary. Sounded good! We were ready for some tan. Halfway through our third bus ride we stopped along the highway and the bus driver made severe eye contact via the rearview mirror, which we figured was indication that it was time to get off. After hauling our bags for about half an hour down the road, we arrived at Esterillos Este, an awesome lazy beach town. No one had heard of Cabinas Mary. Though one man tried to direct us, I had learned early on that when people in Costa Rica don´t know where something is, they don´t say they do not know. They make something up. This characteristic has proved a problem only a handful of times, this being one of them. After approximately 4 buckets of sweat had poured from our bodies, we found an english-speaking hotel owner who succinctly told us that Cabinas Mary was in Esterillos Oeste, and we were in Esterillos Este. Oeste was about a 2 hour walk. No thanks. So, we bunked up for the night at the most expensive, and definitely most awesome, place we had stayed yet. Right on the water with a deserted beach, we lounged for approximately the next 24 hours.
However, after that day of beaching, we had effectively run out of money, and Esterillos Este was not the kind of town with an ATM, so we headed to Jaco, a large surfer town about a half hour away. Semana Santa (Holy Week) was in full force, and the possibility of finding a bus to Jaco became nothing. We waited for a while, met a guy that said he had been walking for 4 hours without sight of a bus, and decided to hitchhike. Because it was only a short distance, on one road, we really weren´t that scared, and were immidiately picked up by a fellow American. Ahhh, Costa Rica. Dave moved to Rica about 20 years before, after getting sick of living in Southern California, and started a horsefarm/riding buisness, then moved on to contracting. He seemed to know everyone and everything about the Jaco area, and pointed out his sweet house on the cliffs (to which we wanted to ask-hey, can we stay with you?), but he also seemed slightly homophobic/racist/conservative/not into Barack Obama, so we were happy when he just dropped us at a hostel in Jaco.
Now, we were not necessarily excited for Jaco. We knew we would have to stay there for a couple of days because there were no buses running, but we were very much unflattered by the town. Then we met the Brits. We met Hana (who had just traveled to Brazil for three months, looked like Julie Andrews and reminded us of Hayley Kaimakliotis), Luke (who looked like your typical surfer "dude", but was much more clever than the stereotype) and Andrew (who looked like your typical Brit, and was traveling for 9 months around the world with Luke, with their surfboards, surfing the world) our first night at our hostel, and then moved with them to our second hostel for the following two nights. They were hilarious. They made me want to move to Britain for the sole fact that all Brits I have ever met have that great sarcastic sense of humor. So we spent our days in Jaco learning to surf, attempting to surf,and sunning by day, and uproariously laughing with our new friends by night. Our final night, because none of us had had nothing to drink for the past week, decided to have an exclusive "drinking game" party, introduced to us by Hana, that ended in stomach cramping laughter. We didn´t want to leave.
But alas, we all had plans to move on, to Monteverde and Nicaragua, so we said our goodbyes and told them that we would always be firends on the Facebook. I am convinced that this is why the Facebook was created. Where fellow travelers, who may have met only once, can reunite and stay for free anywhere in the world on these random acquaintance´s couches. Thus, the traveling will never effectively stop, unless the world runs out of oil.
The next week or so was spent ziplining in Monteverde (a town settled by Alabama Quakers fleeing persecution from the US in the 1950s, where they were forced by the government to enroll in the draft, and they didn´t want to), and then traveling to the Isle de Ometepe, an island of two volcanos in the middle of the Lago de Nicaragua. Right now we are in Granada, for the next two days, before we depart for San Jose to go home. Nicaragua has been absolutely beautiful, and someday I may put up pictures (like, when I get home), but I thought I would make a list, because I love lists, of some of the awesome travelers we have met in the past week. Maybe it is because only cool people travel, or maybe it is because only cool people travel to Nicaragua, but everyone we have met is just that. Really cool.
Lehnnert
Just as our ferry to Ometepe was docking, we met this handsome German. Luckily we did, because we had no idea where we were going on the island, and, being German, he had a plan already. He says he could sense our lack of plan, and invited us to accompany him on a one hour taxi ride to the other, less populated side of the island where he had heard of a good hostel. So we did. It just so happens when you are traveling that you trust pretty much anyone you meet. This would never happen at home. But there is some sense of security in the fact that no one really has any money, everyone is just trying to see things, and no one has any weapons. No one I have met yet anyway. So we followed Lehnnert to this hippie-colony-cum-hostel on an organic farm at the base of a volcano, and hung out on the beaches for the next two days. Germans are funny. They are anally clean, always on time, and sometimes wear hilarious outfits, like a Hawaiian shirt and Jesus chains.
Sebastian and Caroline
We met these kids on the beach on the island, and they are probably the two coolest young folks I have ever met. I say young, but really they are like 21. About three months ago Caroline left Quebec with her bike, and decided to bike through Central America, starting with Mexico. She had some shady stories, let me tell you. But, she is still alive and kicking! Though she left her bike somewhere in El Salvador, because she wanted to travel down the coast with less baggage. Before leaving she found Sebastian on couchsurfers.com (definitely looking into this in the future), as he was going to El Salvador to surf around the same time as Caroline was passing through. They met up there, Seb taught Caroline to surf, and decided to travel south together. Sebastian grew up in Norway, was going to college in South Carolina, and had already traveled in his years since high school more than I have traveled in my entire life. He even hiked part of the Appalachian Trail. How cool is that? Hilarious part of this pair: they left everything but their bathing suits, passports, and wallets in El Salvador. Literally, all they had been wearing across two countries and two weeks were their bathing suits and flip flops. Caroline got a skirt from a girl she met.
Corey
Corey (from Ottowa) met Seb and Caroline at the border crossing into Nicaragua, and they had been hanging out ever since. Corey skipped up Volcan Conception (huge volcano on the island, we were lazy and did not even attempt) in 4 hours. Two days in a row he did this. He was hanging out with two childhood friends also, but they didn´t seem to be getting along that well...as in, one was a bit of a beefcake meathead, and wasn´t really that cool. Like us, Corey is leaving soon via Costa Rica, sad. Evidently the last time he was in Central America, he took 5 machetes home as presents for friends. How do you get into the US with 5 machetes??
Simon and Just and random girl they met along the way (don´t remember her name)
We met these Dutch kids on the ferry back from Ometepe, when we decided to hoist ourselves on top of the boat, because there was no longer any room below. We were escorted to the bow, where we spent the next couple hours cruising in style, recalling my days on the Seadog. The boys were cousins, and had traveled through Central America and the Caribbean for three months, and were headed for South America... Just´s favorite so far was Cuba, which he flew into from Guatemala. Simon entertained us with some great sketchy situations he had been in so far, and hoped no more would ensue. We shared a cab ride with these folks later on, where we jammed to the rock songs of the early 90´s. Nicaraguan cab drivers have great musical taste, if you´re ever here, paying for cabs is totally worth it, if only for the tunes!.
Daniel
This guy was hilarious. We met him along with two Swiss folks one night at our hippie hostel on Ometepe, where we got wood fired delicious pizza (the owners were Italian). Daniel is one of those guys that wears skirts, goes to Renaissance festivals, and talks a lot. You could sit with someone like him for hours. He was probably at least 35, had just divorced his wife of 8 years, and I guess was exploring the world. Not really sure. But what a character.
Well, that´s it for now, I´ve written a bunch, but obviously not everything. I wish I had written consistently the whole time... but alas, it wasn´t meant to be. Sometime I will travel somewhere with the sole purpose of writing and creating art. Someday.
I guess I will start at the beginning. During a dark, dark day this winter, sitting in the Izaak Walton Inn bar Essex, MT , desparately trying to connect to the internet on my laptop, I realized that I needed to go somewhere again this spring. Nepal could not be beat (and I´m convinced it never will be), but the bug was itching below the surface to go somewhere. Anywhere. Preferably somewhere warm. I began to research flights. I began to ask friends.
It took about a week, maybe two tops, before purchasing my ticket to Costa Rica. I threw up the ideas of New Zealand and Australia, but to be honest, I would need a lot more money to travel those countries than I had in my wallet. Especially if I wanted to do them justice. So when I stumbled upon the $309 round-trip airfare from Chicago to San Jose, Costa Rica, I couldn´t pass it up. Seriously? $300? I couldn´t even get one way to Kalispell like that (which was proven later, when I flew home from Kalispell. It was meant to be, or so it appeared.
A month went by, and four friends had joined onto the trip. It was turning out to be quite the excursion! Though Em, Chels, and Amanda could only stay for about 10 days, Becca was to stay with me (in our non-working, globetrotting fashion) the whole time! Yiipeee! Unfortunately, time would prove otherwise, as Becca was forced (forced by the hands of the Yellow Fever Vaccination Police!) to stay 10 extra days in Bogota, Colombia, effectively missing two of the three girls entirely. That was a bummer. But she had a great time in Colombia (check out her blog at www.rebeccamcneilsmith.blogspot.com for photos, etc.) and I can´t wait to do South America someday. The gals and I traveled to Manual Antonio, where we sat on the beach, got our dangerously white skin effectively burned, chased monkeys (or rather, were chased by monkeys), and spent a lot of time sweating. We then went to Monteverde, where we ziplined and ate delicious Argentinian-inspired cuisine in a Quaker town, and learned how cheese is made (and sampled, and sampled). And then the ladies left. And then there were two of us.
There were two things that I learned the first two weeks in Costa Rica. 1) The country houses an exhorbitant amount of Americans and Canadians, and 2) This has created an economy where things cost just as much as they do in the US. This was bad for the wallet. I would have to be extremely frugal in the following 4 weeks, as I had spent the greater percentage of my savings on the first two weeks alone. What follows is how that worked, and how I began to actually enjoy the country, finances aside! (note- I tend to be paranoid about money. especially when I´m in another country and I don´t have any. And they don´t take credit cards. Anywhere.)
When Becca and I travel, we like to do things. Not just bum around from town to town (which actually, I could do quite readily), but actually be involved in something, even if for a short time, while we are in a place. Thus, before embarking on our journey, we had planned to volunteer at two separate locations, each for a week. Because Becca missed the first 10 days she was supposed to be in Rica, Chels and I met her in Alajuela, a smaller city right outside of San Jose. Alajuela failed to impress us upon arrival two weeks before, but this time around we we became enchanted by the festivites in the park on a Sunday; an orchestra concluding their set with the Star Wars theme, a clown with two hilarious dogs that did jumping tricks, and gymnasts (or maybe just teenagers throwing each other into the air on cement surfaces... not really sure). The full day of people-watching did not stop, as our hostel for the night was owned by one of the most adorable, charismatic Costa Ricans I have met- Eduardo Rodriguez. Not only was he an extremely attractive sculptor and race bike enthusiast, but he made us homemade ceviche (lemon-juice cooked fish with ginger and cilantro) and let us in on some of his Peruvian box wine. Seriously, I cannot describe this man. He was hilarious. As the night went on he described to us how he learned yoga from his dog, impersonated a pipe-organist, and tried on my new jacket, which apparently he found very stylish. Becca and I both left our new trendy winter coats with him until we return to Alajuela this Monday...and we´re hoping he hasn´t been wearing them out on the town. And if he has, I hope he has taken pictures. The next day Chelsea was to go back to Minnesota, but not before one final round of tanning and swimming! Because Alajuela is in the Central Valley and not near any beaches, we decided to hit up the "Ojo de Agua". The Eye of Water sounded pleasant enough, but in reality it was a huge, decent waterpark where Ticos (Costa Ricans) go to play. Because we were there pretty early in the morning we had it mostly to ourselves, with the exception of some sweet water aerobics classes. Hilarious.
The next day Becca and I were off to our first volunteer experience; Cabañas Siempre Verde in Mastatal. Now, as many things have gone on this trip, we had no idea where Mastatal really was. We thought we knew the general direction, but it is on no maps. No one had ever really heard of it. My Spanish was (and continues to be) atrocious. Becca´s is a little better, thank the good lord. We took a bus to Puriscal, where we were instructed to find the bus to Mastatal or Zapaton "kiddie corner from the carniceria across from the bigger Supermora". There are five different carnicerias within a block of the Supermora. Not joking. But of course, we found the correct waiting spot, and in about 3 bumpy hours we had arrived in Mastatal. It did exist! Cabañas is a family farm, with sustainable building projects, farming, and Spanish classes lead by 25 year old Marcos, who originally wanted to be an English teacher in town, but realized he didn´t like disciplining children. Instead, he started a Spanish school, built some sweet cabañas in the middle of the rainforest, and recently married a 19 year old American volunteer named Sarah. Their relationship is something that Becca and I pondered over the entire week. Sarah, recently graduated from high school at 17, traveled to Costa Rica to volunteer on a chocolate farm in Mastatal (we got chocolates there one day, DELICIOUS) and met Marcos. They pretty randomly decided to get married about 6 months ago, and were married in January. Neither Becca nor I could even imagine being in her shoes right now, as she went from Southern California living to a farm in the middle of nowhere Costa Rica. Crazy. Nonetheless, we loved the couple and their company and spent 7 beautiful days helping them out. Though we really only did about 2 hours of "farming" (the ground was too dry to do anything other than seeding), we did manage to make a decent rocking chair, one of Marcos´random projects that involve copying some piece of furniture that he likes and making his own version. Our final test of whether or not it could hold a human body proved successful! If it hadn´t, we probably would have started to question our purpose. The town was absolutely gorgeous, high in the mountains with hikes to bubbling rivers and waterfalls, hammocks overlooking vistas, and open-air cabañas to sleep in in the rainforest. Though the entire time I was horrified of poisonous snakes (the first night we walked down to the cabañas, we saw one coiled to attack, and from that point on I wore rubber boots to bed), it was probably one of the most beautiful places I have ever been in my life next to (Nepal and Glacier, obviously).
We bid Mastatal adieu after our week on the farm, leaving at daybreak to catch the first of three buses to "the coast". Again, we really had no idea where we were going, but we were told by Marcos and Sarah that Esterillos was a really nice, sparsely populated area, with a cheap place to stay called Cabinas Mary. Sounded good! We were ready for some tan. Halfway through our third bus ride we stopped along the highway and the bus driver made severe eye contact via the rearview mirror, which we figured was indication that it was time to get off. After hauling our bags for about half an hour down the road, we arrived at Esterillos Este, an awesome lazy beach town. No one had heard of Cabinas Mary. Though one man tried to direct us, I had learned early on that when people in Costa Rica don´t know where something is, they don´t say they do not know. They make something up. This characteristic has proved a problem only a handful of times, this being one of them. After approximately 4 buckets of sweat had poured from our bodies, we found an english-speaking hotel owner who succinctly told us that Cabinas Mary was in Esterillos Oeste, and we were in Esterillos Este. Oeste was about a 2 hour walk. No thanks. So, we bunked up for the night at the most expensive, and definitely most awesome, place we had stayed yet. Right on the water with a deserted beach, we lounged for approximately the next 24 hours.
However, after that day of beaching, we had effectively run out of money, and Esterillos Este was not the kind of town with an ATM, so we headed to Jaco, a large surfer town about a half hour away. Semana Santa (Holy Week) was in full force, and the possibility of finding a bus to Jaco became nothing. We waited for a while, met a guy that said he had been walking for 4 hours without sight of a bus, and decided to hitchhike. Because it was only a short distance, on one road, we really weren´t that scared, and were immidiately picked up by a fellow American. Ahhh, Costa Rica. Dave moved to Rica about 20 years before, after getting sick of living in Southern California, and started a horsefarm/riding buisness, then moved on to contracting. He seemed to know everyone and everything about the Jaco area, and pointed out his sweet house on the cliffs (to which we wanted to ask-hey, can we stay with you?), but he also seemed slightly homophobic/racist/conservative/not into Barack Obama, so we were happy when he just dropped us at a hostel in Jaco.
Now, we were not necessarily excited for Jaco. We knew we would have to stay there for a couple of days because there were no buses running, but we were very much unflattered by the town. Then we met the Brits. We met Hana (who had just traveled to Brazil for three months, looked like Julie Andrews and reminded us of Hayley Kaimakliotis), Luke (who looked like your typical surfer "dude", but was much more clever than the stereotype) and Andrew (who looked like your typical Brit, and was traveling for 9 months around the world with Luke, with their surfboards, surfing the world) our first night at our hostel, and then moved with them to our second hostel for the following two nights. They were hilarious. They made me want to move to Britain for the sole fact that all Brits I have ever met have that great sarcastic sense of humor. So we spent our days in Jaco learning to surf, attempting to surf,and sunning by day, and uproariously laughing with our new friends by night. Our final night, because none of us had had nothing to drink for the past week, decided to have an exclusive "drinking game" party, introduced to us by Hana, that ended in stomach cramping laughter. We didn´t want to leave.
But alas, we all had plans to move on, to Monteverde and Nicaragua, so we said our goodbyes and told them that we would always be firends on the Facebook. I am convinced that this is why the Facebook was created. Where fellow travelers, who may have met only once, can reunite and stay for free anywhere in the world on these random acquaintance´s couches. Thus, the traveling will never effectively stop, unless the world runs out of oil.
The next week or so was spent ziplining in Monteverde (a town settled by Alabama Quakers fleeing persecution from the US in the 1950s, where they were forced by the government to enroll in the draft, and they didn´t want to), and then traveling to the Isle de Ometepe, an island of two volcanos in the middle of the Lago de Nicaragua. Right now we are in Granada, for the next two days, before we depart for San Jose to go home. Nicaragua has been absolutely beautiful, and someday I may put up pictures (like, when I get home), but I thought I would make a list, because I love lists, of some of the awesome travelers we have met in the past week. Maybe it is because only cool people travel, or maybe it is because only cool people travel to Nicaragua, but everyone we have met is just that. Really cool.
Lehnnert
Just as our ferry to Ometepe was docking, we met this handsome German. Luckily we did, because we had no idea where we were going on the island, and, being German, he had a plan already. He says he could sense our lack of plan, and invited us to accompany him on a one hour taxi ride to the other, less populated side of the island where he had heard of a good hostel. So we did. It just so happens when you are traveling that you trust pretty much anyone you meet. This would never happen at home. But there is some sense of security in the fact that no one really has any money, everyone is just trying to see things, and no one has any weapons. No one I have met yet anyway. So we followed Lehnnert to this hippie-colony-cum-hostel on an organic farm at the base of a volcano, and hung out on the beaches for the next two days. Germans are funny. They are anally clean, always on time, and sometimes wear hilarious outfits, like a Hawaiian shirt and Jesus chains.
Sebastian and Caroline
We met these kids on the beach on the island, and they are probably the two coolest young folks I have ever met. I say young, but really they are like 21. About three months ago Caroline left Quebec with her bike, and decided to bike through Central America, starting with Mexico. She had some shady stories, let me tell you. But, she is still alive and kicking! Though she left her bike somewhere in El Salvador, because she wanted to travel down the coast with less baggage. Before leaving she found Sebastian on couchsurfers.com (definitely looking into this in the future), as he was going to El Salvador to surf around the same time as Caroline was passing through. They met up there, Seb taught Caroline to surf, and decided to travel south together. Sebastian grew up in Norway, was going to college in South Carolina, and had already traveled in his years since high school more than I have traveled in my entire life. He even hiked part of the Appalachian Trail. How cool is that? Hilarious part of this pair: they left everything but their bathing suits, passports, and wallets in El Salvador. Literally, all they had been wearing across two countries and two weeks were their bathing suits and flip flops. Caroline got a skirt from a girl she met.
Corey
Corey (from Ottowa) met Seb and Caroline at the border crossing into Nicaragua, and they had been hanging out ever since. Corey skipped up Volcan Conception (huge volcano on the island, we were lazy and did not even attempt) in 4 hours. Two days in a row he did this. He was hanging out with two childhood friends also, but they didn´t seem to be getting along that well...as in, one was a bit of a beefcake meathead, and wasn´t really that cool. Like us, Corey is leaving soon via Costa Rica, sad. Evidently the last time he was in Central America, he took 5 machetes home as presents for friends. How do you get into the US with 5 machetes??
Simon and Just and random girl they met along the way (don´t remember her name)
We met these Dutch kids on the ferry back from Ometepe, when we decided to hoist ourselves on top of the boat, because there was no longer any room below. We were escorted to the bow, where we spent the next couple hours cruising in style, recalling my days on the Seadog. The boys were cousins, and had traveled through Central America and the Caribbean for three months, and were headed for South America... Just´s favorite so far was Cuba, which he flew into from Guatemala. Simon entertained us with some great sketchy situations he had been in so far, and hoped no more would ensue. We shared a cab ride with these folks later on, where we jammed to the rock songs of the early 90´s. Nicaraguan cab drivers have great musical taste, if you´re ever here, paying for cabs is totally worth it, if only for the tunes!.
Daniel
This guy was hilarious. We met him along with two Swiss folks one night at our hippie hostel on Ometepe, where we got wood fired delicious pizza (the owners were Italian). Daniel is one of those guys that wears skirts, goes to Renaissance festivals, and talks a lot. You could sit with someone like him for hours. He was probably at least 35, had just divorced his wife of 8 years, and I guess was exploring the world. Not really sure. But what a character.
Well, that´s it for now, I´ve written a bunch, but obviously not everything. I wish I had written consistently the whole time... but alas, it wasn´t meant to be. Sometime I will travel somewhere with the sole purpose of writing and creating art. Someday.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)