Week one of interviews is complete! I was able to do 5 days of interviews this week, for a grand total of 34 different interviews, which is great. I was supposed to go out today as well, but it was raining, so just as I was climbing into a matatu to head out to the camp, Babu called and told me not to come. Its probably best, I could see the camp turning into a bit of a mess with rain- all the paths are steep and completely sand, which means mud if it rains, and there are giant ravines that fill up and turn into little raging rivers when it rains- so its probably best I didn't go today.
Anyway, back to earlier this week. I was in a different sub-camp every day, and I worked with two different translators, Ann and Mary. They are both incredible ladies, and I am excited to keep working with them this week and next. I told you a bit about Ann already, but Mary is also wonderful. I thought she was older, but she is only 20, has a two year old daughter named Candy, and lives on her own. Mary's parents stopped supporting her when she was 17, and so she couldn't pay her school fees and had to drop out of 10th grade. She's been taking care of herself ever since. Her sister has left her two children in the camp while she goes out and wanders around- nobody knows where she goes- and so Mary was taking care of them as well, but they just recently went to live with Mary's parents. When Mary's sister comes to the camp once or twice per year, she steals Mary's food and clothing, but nevertheless, Mary says she is glad to live on her own and depend on no one, and have no one except her daughter depend on her. She is a very, very mature, yet still fun and friendly 20 year old- its been a pleasure and a privilege to work with her so far.
So, like I said, I went to a different sub-camp every day and interviewed a total of 34 people this week. Each interview is taking between 30-45 minutes and then there is time walking to and from each camp from the school that I meet either Mary or Ann at, and then the time it takes to find each person that is willing to speak with me. Most days I get to the camp around 9:30 and leave by 2:30 or 3, and then come back to my hotel room, transcribe all the interviews from that day, and put on copious amounts of aloe lotion to combat my ever deepening sunburn (I'm outside virtually all day). With all of that, each day passes by pretty quickly, and I pass out at the end of the day!
I've been to 3 camps in which the residents have permanent houses, and 2 camps where the residents live in tents. The conditions in all of the camps are rough, but the tent camps are especially tough to walk through and speak to people in. Yesterday I was in a tent camp, and it is also the smallest and farthest away from the center of the whole camp. Most of the people there lived on their own and were older- between 50 and 80 years old. The people in this camp, just like all the other camps, do "casual jobs", or hard, physical labor, like cutting wood, tending to the farms (called shambas), fetching water, etc., but the people here doing those jobs are 75 year old women. Call me crazy, but I don't think that's how it should be. None of the people I spoke with yesterday had a bed- a few of them were lucky enough to have a single foam pad to sleep on and one blanket. None of them had any furniture, and they each had one or two pans to cook their food in. Not a single one of them said the food they grew on their shambas was enough to live on, yet one woman, Miriam, was kind enough to give Mary and I each a plate of githeri for lunch, a Kikuyu dish made with maize and beans. This camp was definitely on the extreme end of everything I've seen and heard through the camp as a whole, but it was still humbling and heartbreaking to hear these people talk about their lives.
It is striking how friendly and optimistic people are in the camp, regardless of their current circumstances. I have had numerous people give me lunch or chai, they aren't at all shy around a muzungu (the Swahili word for "white person"), and they make me feel completely at home and at ease. I've been asking people if they are happy right now, and while some say no, most have said yes because at least they have a home or a tent and there is no fighting. I think it is really hard to imagine many people in the states or the rest of the western world being happy in these conditions, and that makes their appreciation that much more striking. And their warmth, oh my gosh. To be honest, a lot of people in the town of Maai Mahiu sketch me out a little, but everyone in the camp is incredibly genuine. Everyone I pass greets me and shakes my hand, even little toddlers (well, except the toddlers that are scared of me because I'm white- some of them actually scream and run away in terror- oh well). I have gotten quite good at the traditional Kenyan handshake, which I will be happy to share with everyone when I'm home. I guess the bottom line is, every day I wake up excited to get out of my hotel room and out of town and into the camp where everyone is friendly, helpful and welcoming, and incredibly willing to answer my questions.
Although I'm not quite sure how yet, I do think I will stay in touch with Marafiki and try and work with them on ways to continue to improve the conditions in the camp. Something else I've been learning is that many people in the camp don't want to move again- they want to stay in the camp. If thats the case, conditions have got to improve. No one should have to live the way a lot of these folks live, and I really want to look into getting a microfinance or other financial service organization into the camp to work with the residents, because nearly all of them want to start a business. While it certainly wouldn't fix all of the problems, I think it would be a step in the right direction.
So, I guess thats it for now. This week went by pretty quickly, and I really only have another week and a half to spend in the camp. I hope time slows down a little bit, so I can continue to learn from all of these wonderful people, and get to know some of the faces I already know a little better.
Anyway, back to earlier this week. I was in a different sub-camp every day, and I worked with two different translators, Ann and Mary. They are both incredible ladies, and I am excited to keep working with them this week and next. I told you a bit about Ann already, but Mary is also wonderful. I thought she was older, but she is only 20, has a two year old daughter named Candy, and lives on her own. Mary's parents stopped supporting her when she was 17, and so she couldn't pay her school fees and had to drop out of 10th grade. She's been taking care of herself ever since. Her sister has left her two children in the camp while she goes out and wanders around- nobody knows where she goes- and so Mary was taking care of them as well, but they just recently went to live with Mary's parents. When Mary's sister comes to the camp once or twice per year, she steals Mary's food and clothing, but nevertheless, Mary says she is glad to live on her own and depend on no one, and have no one except her daughter depend on her. She is a very, very mature, yet still fun and friendly 20 year old- its been a pleasure and a privilege to work with her so far.
So, like I said, I went to a different sub-camp every day and interviewed a total of 34 people this week. Each interview is taking between 30-45 minutes and then there is time walking to and from each camp from the school that I meet either Mary or Ann at, and then the time it takes to find each person that is willing to speak with me. Most days I get to the camp around 9:30 and leave by 2:30 or 3, and then come back to my hotel room, transcribe all the interviews from that day, and put on copious amounts of aloe lotion to combat my ever deepening sunburn (I'm outside virtually all day). With all of that, each day passes by pretty quickly, and I pass out at the end of the day!
I've been to 3 camps in which the residents have permanent houses, and 2 camps where the residents live in tents. The conditions in all of the camps are rough, but the tent camps are especially tough to walk through and speak to people in. Yesterday I was in a tent camp, and it is also the smallest and farthest away from the center of the whole camp. Most of the people there lived on their own and were older- between 50 and 80 years old. The people in this camp, just like all the other camps, do "casual jobs", or hard, physical labor, like cutting wood, tending to the farms (called shambas), fetching water, etc., but the people here doing those jobs are 75 year old women. Call me crazy, but I don't think that's how it should be. None of the people I spoke with yesterday had a bed- a few of them were lucky enough to have a single foam pad to sleep on and one blanket. None of them had any furniture, and they each had one or two pans to cook their food in. Not a single one of them said the food they grew on their shambas was enough to live on, yet one woman, Miriam, was kind enough to give Mary and I each a plate of githeri for lunch, a Kikuyu dish made with maize and beans. This camp was definitely on the extreme end of everything I've seen and heard through the camp as a whole, but it was still humbling and heartbreaking to hear these people talk about their lives.
It is striking how friendly and optimistic people are in the camp, regardless of their current circumstances. I have had numerous people give me lunch or chai, they aren't at all shy around a muzungu (the Swahili word for "white person"), and they make me feel completely at home and at ease. I've been asking people if they are happy right now, and while some say no, most have said yes because at least they have a home or a tent and there is no fighting. I think it is really hard to imagine many people in the states or the rest of the western world being happy in these conditions, and that makes their appreciation that much more striking. And their warmth, oh my gosh. To be honest, a lot of people in the town of Maai Mahiu sketch me out a little, but everyone in the camp is incredibly genuine. Everyone I pass greets me and shakes my hand, even little toddlers (well, except the toddlers that are scared of me because I'm white- some of them actually scream and run away in terror- oh well). I have gotten quite good at the traditional Kenyan handshake, which I will be happy to share with everyone when I'm home. I guess the bottom line is, every day I wake up excited to get out of my hotel room and out of town and into the camp where everyone is friendly, helpful and welcoming, and incredibly willing to answer my questions.
Although I'm not quite sure how yet, I do think I will stay in touch with Marafiki and try and work with them on ways to continue to improve the conditions in the camp. Something else I've been learning is that many people in the camp don't want to move again- they want to stay in the camp. If thats the case, conditions have got to improve. No one should have to live the way a lot of these folks live, and I really want to look into getting a microfinance or other financial service organization into the camp to work with the residents, because nearly all of them want to start a business. While it certainly wouldn't fix all of the problems, I think it would be a step in the right direction.
So, I guess thats it for now. This week went by pretty quickly, and I really only have another week and a half to spend in the camp. I hope time slows down a little bit, so I can continue to learn from all of these wonderful people, and get to know some of the faces I already know a little better.
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