Eldoret

Something that I’ve struggled with since being in Kenya is the blatant distinction between white and black. As has been apparent in many posts, I very much dislike having my attention drawn by someone shouting out “mzungu!” and when receiving no response, changing it to “white lady!” This past week however, I experienced many things which finally gave me an inkling of understanding about the distinction between socioeconomic class, which as an outsider, hadn’t seemed as obvious to me. After a comment made by my mom about how she expected things to be so much less expensive in Kenya, I realized how right she was. Most of the items that I’ve purchased have been from places like Nakumatt, which I previously referred to as the equivalent of Walmart. I’ve since learned however that socially, Nakumatt is perceived as many perceive Target in America, a classier, more expensive version of the same thing. Otherwhys, I buy things on the street where I’m perceived as deserving a higher price than my equal Kenyan counterpart because of my foreignness.

In reality though, things that an average Kenyan buys at an average price, are much more what my mother had expected. With some variation, a matatu (kenyan bus) is 30 ksh (30 cents), a bag of 4 fresh avocados is 80 ksh (80 cents), a coke in a glass bottle 35 ksh (35 cents), etc. -you get the picture, extraordinarily reasonable compared to American prices for comparable items.

I am not at all disputing the abject poverty that many Kenyans live in, nor am I disputing that those who are well off do not still struggle because of the economy. But what I’ve come to realize is that in America, most people make a relatively steady income, even those who don’t work, thanks to the infrastructures that we’ve set up. This thought process relates back to my experiences this past week in which I had the opportunity to shadow some street health care workers who are helping to facilitate the OSCAR research. OSCAR stands for Orphaned and Separated Children Assessment Related to their health and well-being.

Money is not something that most people like to talk about, but here I’m about to. Like most college educated students, my family and I are in a significant amount of debt because of it. Does this mean that I won’t buy a new pair of shoes or go out to dinner with the small amount of savings that I have? No. Should it? Maybe. But the point is that I’m riding on the last bit of that savings now to carry me through the rest of the semester. It took three years of working part time while in school to earn enough money to buy my plane ticket to Kenya. So when someone is following me along my entire walk home (especially prevalent during my OSCAR outreach) requesting that I fund their trip to America as if because I’m white, I inherently have that money, it gets very frustrating.

At the time, I was feeling as though I was being perceived by the community as this entitled girl who was too selfish to share the wealth instead of a hardworking girl who is just trying to learn what I can to be able to make a difference in the world someday. From my perspective, what distinguishes the west from developing countries is not so much having physical money, but rather having the opportunity to earn in. Although we struggle with unemployment in America as well, I feel that there are more opportunities to work than in Kenya. In my opinion therefore foreign aid to countries should not come in the sense of money, but rather in the sense of helping local people start their own companies, resulting in opportunities for others to become employees, etc. That is one thing that Kenya has going for them as one of the fastest growing economies-the entrepreneurship is through the roof. So many people start so many amazing businesses. Although it may be because they don’t have any other choice, many of these businesses are thriving. The variety of businesses range from selling clothes second hand on the street, to companies situated in buildings throughout the central business district of Nairobi, accessed through online marketing and spread by word of mouth.

What really motivated this post however, was when I was told that I could not walk home, and if I needed money for a taxi, well “it was only 3 dollars, so if I didn’t have it, anyone in the room could give it to me” (in a room full of very well off Americans). And I’ve realized that this is why the perception of us is as it is here in Kenya. 300 ksh is a lot to spend on a taxi for such a short distance, and money is far from expendable. For a Kenyan family, those 300 ksh could be the difference between someone being able to afford feeding their family for dinner for an entire week, or not. Yet to these Americans, it was only* three dollars. It put me in such a position where I felt embarrassed for feeling like that was a lot to go literally down the street, and I can only imagine how others feel when foreigners can appear so demeaning. It’s no wonder that people expect us to just give them money when this is the perception that many literally hand over to them. In terms of something larger than the topic of money (although that is certainly a large topic), it’s important to keep this in mind when interacting with any set of diverse peoples. Whether from the same culture or community, there is frequently a less visible difference in many other aspects of people's’ lives.

For these reasons, and for several others, one should never assume anything about another. The Americans that I associated with assumed that I would have enough money to be able to take a taxi, and Kenyans live in a constant state of assuming that I have extra money laying around to hand out. As my dad always says though, assuming only makes an ass out of you and of I, and I have to second that. Without assumptions about others, the world would be filled with less judgement and more communal understanding and societal progress.

With all of this being said however, I understand how sensitive of a subject money is and I hope that I have not approached it too obnoxiously. I am conscientious of the fact that everything I say comes with the privilege of being able to say so. By having enough money to travel, even for studies, I have more money than many Kenyans. Despite how positive my intentions in studying abroad may be, that doesn’t change the way that I appear. My perspective on this matter is obviously directly correlated to the fact that I am a white American, and regardless of how my opinion on the matter changes throughout my life, that will always be the fact. Although sometimes difficult to cope with, because I’ve always been one to find myself uncomfortable when sitting in a room full of white people, I know that in society, it doesn’t matter how I feel on the inside, rather how others from the outside perceive me. That however, is a commentary for another day. I think that for now, this is enough to soak in.

Siku njema!

Beca

Urban Homestay

          5 years ago I was studying abroad in France, keeping a blog much similarly to this one. While there, my grandfather (Grandaddy, Evangelist, Franklin Payne Smith Senior) gave me some solid advice in the form of a comment on one of my posts. He told me, in short, to "feel it all." From the great times with friends, to the less than great times. To feel every moment of it all means to be alive. He made an analogy about Michaelangelo's paintings. What was the brush thinking as Michaelangelo was painting, or the paint as it was being smeared on a canvas? By simply existing, and having an array of experiences, we become one with our environments, becoming as paint does, an entire picture. I'm sure that if the paint of Michaelangelo's paintings could think, they would be in awe at the beauty that they become by being a part of the bigger picture. My grandfather also said "copy as much as you can to your body's, mind's, and soul's hard drive so that the experiences will be a part of you forever." And it is in large part for this reason that I am keeping these reflections. To ingrain these experiences and to feel them completely. (*Although this is being posted after the fact because of a lack of internet access on my part-It's true, not everyone, no matter what socio-economic status or availability, places value on wifi!!)
          3 weeks ago, I had no idea what the life of a Nairobian was like. But after having spent the time with my host family, I not only gained much experience, but I left an impression with so many people, I became a part of their paintings. No matter what interaction we have with someone, we impact them in one form or another, and I am grateful to have had an impact on my family and for them to have one from me as well.

          My first impression arriving at the home of my family was "Wow, there's a lot of security here." In addition to the guarded gate to enter into the neighborhood, there is another gate with a guard at every individual house within the neighborhood. Surrounding the houses are brick walls, frequently with barbed wire on top, but in my case, shards and shards of glass. The door to the entrance remains locked, even when people are home, and there is another locked gate in front of the staircase leading to everyone's rooms that is locked up at night. This wasn't unique to my family though! All 22 of us had very similar security arrangements, and I find it fascinating that there is so much security despite the lack of obvious threat. The immediate concern is being robbed, and so these precautions are taken. I also think that families, if they have the means to afford hiring someone to watch the gate do so in order to give them a place to stay, and money to afford necessities that they may otherwise not have access to. I'm not saying it's completely altruistic though, as I will describe next.

A genius concept - having a sink in the dining room

          I would classify the family that I stayed with as upper middle-class, with similarities to my family at home. One thing however, stuck out as a major difference. It is not uncommon for families to have house help. This bounces off what I was saying earlier however, about giving people who otherwise may be struggling, to have room and board. I find that in America you have to be very well-off to afford help in the house, or to constitute having a security guard in front of your house. However, here in Kenya, my parents didn't get home until 8-9 pm every evening. In America, my mom stayed home to raise me and do homely things. At first, I thought that the dichotomy between rich and poor must be so vast that this middle class is comparable to our upper class. However, upon further reflection, I became cognizant of the fact that in America, if families are able to lose an entire income for a parent to stay at home everyday, they are just as well off, if not more so, than in Kenya whereas the cost of hiring help is probably significantly less expensive than the family losing an entire source of income. Although the house help is in most cases given room and board, depending on their role in the family, they do not make a substantial amount of money. Many come from informal settlements, and the room and board, and support from the families they work for is usually more than enough to sustain their lives, but probably not to pursue more education/sustain their own family.
          One such informal settlement is called Kibera. It is often referred to as the largest slum in East Africa, but there is a lot of ambiguity as to how many people truly live there. In fact, the reported numbers by many NGOs are seemingly 4x as much as research shows there to actually be. As a class (of St. Lawrence University students), we had the opportunity to visit one of two NGOs: Carolina for Kibera, or the Red Rose School. I visited Carolina for Kibera which had both a health clinic, and a girls outreach group within Kibera. I was also afforded the chance to enter into a home of a resident in Kibera. Despite the inaccuracies of the number of inhabitants in Kibera, the living situation is still very cramped and very unsanitary. I would argue however that the perpetuation of the idea that Kibera is the largest slum in East Africa makes it seem impossible to improve, and is in fact detrimental to their improvement. I therefore propose abolishing this stigmatization and for NGOs to continue focusing their attention on getting to know the needs of the residents, as well as the government acknowledging their existence. For instance, if the government held the landlords responsible for having basic necessities for their tenants, such as toilet facilities, many of the issues, I believe, would remedy themselves. Anyways, that's just my opinion.

          Just on the other side of the city however, there is a huge outdoor mitumba (thrift), called Toy Market. I had the opportunity to visit it with my host-cousin after a free yoga class provided every weekend by The Africa Yoga Project. This came at the perfect timing because very shortly after arriving in Kenya, I realized that there was only one comfort from home that I absolutely needed, and this was further reiterated during my homestay. I was greatly missing wrapping my toes up in my nice wool socks while I studied, and then still being able to go walk outside.  This, my friends, is possible only with my adidas, which I left at home. However, while out shopping I found the perfect pair, almost brand new, for $10.00. Although I without a doubt could have gotten them for significantly cheaper, my bargaining skills at that point were not up to par, and I so desperately wanted them. Here in Kenya, you can bargain just about anything from your taxi fare to the bracelet in the market that you really want. The only place that I've identified which cannot be bargained at are restaurants and Nakumat. The prices are frequently jacked up even higher because we're white, but I always resort to telling them "Mimi ni mwanafunzi!! Si na pesa. Tafhidali." or "I'm a student, I have no money, please." This is only after they've said they're lowest, final price, and what I've offered is literally the only money in my wallet. Then the bargaining turns into my begging. Regardless, it's super fun and I've gotten many amazing summer clothes, shoes, and dresses mitumba shopping! Including, most importantly, my adidas.
          Some other fun things that happened during my homestay, are as follows. I went with my host sister to a place called the Karen Hub (which had just opened) for three different occasions. The first was for an open-mic night, the second for pizza at Dominoes, and the third for a screening of a film for the International Woman's Day. The short film depicted a story of a woman who accidentally gave her daughter the wrong medicine because she was illiterate (as she'd been raped, become pregnant, and had to leave school at a very young age), and it ended up killing her daughter. As a now adult woman, she went back to school. The purpose of the film was to speak on the importance of educating females, among other things. The mall itself is absolutely beautiful and the owner, of European descent, came to the open-mic night to convey the significance of the arts and how happy he was to have so many people interested in them.  Another weekend, with my host-sister, I had the opportunity to participate in the First Lady's Half Marathon through the town of Nairobi. It was held by the first lady to raise money for initiatives to reduce maternal and child mortality. At the end of the televised marathon, as people ran through the finish line, they were given medals and certificates for completing! It was awesome! By the time I got around to seeking a medal, there were none left though, no big deal! It was still awesome.
          Overall, the three weeks were exceptional and flew by! I had so many experiences that I will never forget, met so many amazing people, and learned so much about the many dichotomies of life in Nairobi. It was definitely a feel-everything kind of experience, and I'm so grateful to have been able to live the way Nairobians live every day for these three weeks, ultimately becoming a part of the greater picture. I hope that everyone takes my Grandfather's advice to feel it all!

I've been thinking about my Grandaddy a lot lately, and so this is in very loving memory of him.

Grandaddy and myself being goofy

Siku Njema!
-Beca