Rural Home Stay

"Are you in the moment?" is a thing my friend Emily and I would ask each other this summer as we hiked and camped our way along the coasts of Nova Scotia and New Brunswick. We recognized a tendency that we had early on our adventure of allowing our minds to wander off of the path we were on at the time. Rather than experiencing the moments we were in, we escaped to places that we'd been before, trying to recreate memories and places we wanted to go, envisioning futures that were not ours to create.
Another vital mantra that we had was "deep and mindful breaths and steps" which came in handy particularly as we were scaling down an unmarked trail in an attempt to reach a place by the name of Amethyst Cove. From the get-go, I was terrified. It was steep, rocky, muddy, and unfamiliar. As we neared the bottom of the cliff I began to tear up from straight up fear of slipping, but Emily reminded me to take deep and mindful breaths and we made it to the bottom. When I took my first step onto the beach, I told her that she needed to call the Coast Guard because there was no way in hell I was climbing back up that cliff. I then went off to the purported amethysts and tried to really appreciate the moment for exactly what it was. I was there on that beach in Canada with one of my best friends, having an adventure of a lifetime, and nothing else in my life mattered. We reconvened, piled our backpacks with rocks, increasing the weight by about 10 pounds, and bolted back up before it got dark. Despite the fact that I was grateful to have had the experience, I swore that I would never climb down that mountain, or anything similar to it, ever again.

Little did I know that less than a year later, I would be in the Highlands of Central Kenya with the opportunity to set out for a waterfall with my host siblings. The degree of difficulty of the hike was the same as it had been in Canada, except I was surrounded by people speaking in Kikuyu and walking ten times faster than I could, and I was without anyone positively reinforcing me or reminding me to be present. At one rock in particular, I had the conversation with myself in my head of "why am I doing this, why do I always think I can do these kinds of things, I'm scared, I can't breathe..." Etc. And then I just had to tell myself "No. This is your moment. These are all your moments. Stay present and aware. You've got this." And this time when I made it to my destination, I didn't swear I would never leave out of fear of the return. I appreciated all the sceneries I had seen on my way and anxiously anticipated the many things I would notice the second time around. I recognized in myself that I am going to do a million more things in this life that may terrify me, but I'm going to keep doing them anyways­.
But let me backtrack: this past week I had the opportunity to stay with a family in the rural area of Central Kenya. I had a younger brother of 6 years old,a sister of 10 years old, a sister of 22 and a girl named Jane who might as well have been my sister, aged 22 as well. My mom and dad were not home much due to their strenuous work schedules, but I understand the fact that they've got to work hard to make ends meet. However, from conversations I had with the girls while washing clothes by hand daily, or mopping the floor bent over dragging a rag, I was able to ascertain a lot about Kikuyu views and values. Something that I found was equally important as their answers to my questions was the questions that they chose to ask me. For instance, "In America, would people stare at me if I  walked down the street?" which I later learned was a very real issue for me in rural Kenya.

The cultural differences of living in another society were not as shocking to me as they were to many of my peers. However, there are a few important aspects I would like to touch upon. One of which being gender roles. Although different in every family, there was a general consensus that the fathers of the family expected to be taken care of regardless of whether or not the women were working equally as hard throughout the day. To demonstrate with a personal anecdote, it was about 10:30 pm and my dad had just gotten home. I was already in bed, but I ran out to greet him because it was my last night with the family. As soon as I saw him, the first thing he said is "I haven't taken dinner yet. I would like eggs too" and then he walked into his room. Dinner was already prepared so I simply had to warm it up, but I had to make eggs as well and I brought it all out to him at around 10:45 pm where he was seated in front of the tv. The entire week I was there, I did not see my father take a single foot into the kitchen!
Another concept that I would like to touch upon is the "white savior" complex. In magazines such as National Geographic, there is often a white man exploring the wild African nature and in college classes, I was taught the ways in which this was detrimental. However, after having spent a week being constantly referred to as "Mzungu" (white person), stared at everywhere I went, and personally targeted in town, I realize this concept is not perpetuated solely by magazines. There are many Kenyans, specifically the Kikuyus, who believe all white people are rich and are 'godly' as one student was told. Sitting on the grass of a hospital, my host sister informed me that we weren't supposed to, but nobody would say anything because I was there. This was extremely uncomfortable for me, and being a women who would some day like to return to Kenya, I felt overwhelmed with the idea that I would always be seen in that way. One student described it as feeling like a celebrity, which was cool at first, but once you think about why, it's much more difficult to be okay. Random people on the street would run up wanting to touch us, just like if you saw your favorite celebrity walking around downtown.
My host sister explained to me that she understood I was a student just like her and didn't have a plethora of money to give away, but many people would not see it in that way. Especially since $1 is equivalent to 100 Kenyan Shillings and you can buy a pair of shoes at a store similar to Payless for 300 shillings. $3 for a pair of shoes that in America would cost at minimum $20. Without a doubt, we have poverty in America, but the extent of our poverty, and the government's attempt to aid those in need, makes it significantly more difficult to equate the two situations.
However, I would like to also discuss daily life for my family to demonstrate the ways in which the society was structured from my experiences. Every morning and evening, the cows are milked providing enough for the family to have chai and to sell to the market. There is no need for a refrigerator as the milk is drank and sold as it's brought in. Secondly, no one has an excess of clothes because they're washed almost every day and there is no need. If you are a female, the day is filled primarily with straightening the house, washing dishes and clothes, and preparing meals. It's highly repetitive and tedious work, but I respect the women beyond belief. After a week, I was physically and mentally exhausted, and I cannot imagine having to do it for much longer, let alone for my entire life. I suppose the muscles would get used to it, but I don't think anyone can ever get used to the heat of the sun! I didn't have very much experience on the farm itself as there was someone hired to tend to it. I did have a few opportunities to milk a cow and cut the grass with a single blade when the girls were free to go outside with me, but I wasn't comfortable alone with the man hired and the girls were constantly preoccupied. The men's work  on the farm however seemed equally as strenuous based solely on observation.
The most magical part of the entire experience overall was seeing how happy everyone seemed

to be. Having only been there for a week, it's hard to make any assertive statements generalizing their lives, but the entire society seemed to be heavily rooted in Christianity, allowing them the belief that everything was exactly how it should be and so they weren't consumed with worry. My family worked hard and provided for their children opportunities to succeed, and as my host-mom put it, "to have more and be better," the same goal most  Western parents have for their children.
In closing, spending a week within a rural family allowed me the opportunity to learn about myself, the Kikuyu society, and several cultural differences which are all interrelated. Despite the scatterdness of my thoughts, I hope that I have given you something to reflect on. Gender roles and the concept of whiteness are two things that I will be choosing to focus on throughout the next four months, and as my thoughts formulate I'll be sure to share! In addition, there are many things, especially concerning the history of the Kikuyu people that I didn't speak about that I may later as I continue to do more research. Anyways, I'll keep you posted!

Siku Njema!!
Beca