Apr 4, 2011
Apr 3, 2011
an angry (civilized) mob
I experienced my first peaceful protest in Kenya this morning. At the Jomo Kenyatta airport.
It all began at 4:30am with my alarm finally going off – I had one of those restless nights where I never really could fall asleep and awoke every hour in (subconscious) fear of not awaking with the alarm and missing my early morning flight (which is quite laughable now).
I arrive at the airport (packed at 6am) waiting an hour and a half to get up to the gate. I go through additional security to sit in the boarding room - where I fall asleep. Awakening, I see people are all getting up and being ushered back into the airport. I close my eyes again, desperate for just a few more minutes. Nope - airport guy insists I too get up – my flight has been delayed. “Go get breakfast” he says “come back at 9am for more info and a new departure time”. Fine. I move to the hallway and proceed to continue my nap. At 9a we are told to come back at 10a. I go for a coffee and bonus – Java House has apple pie! 10a the airport man in the most hideous color of mustard (head to toe and with a matching vest!) tells us the flight is delayed indefinitely because they don’t have a crew and can’t find a pilot. Maybe, he says, we will leave at 4p on the LAM flight stopping through northern Mozambique (and taking double the amount of time). But we all need to stick around to find out. Suddenly, a handful of large Kenyan men stand up and started asking very loud “what?” “are you kidding me?” I watch and to my entertainment, the mustard colored man turned and RAN down the hallway! Ha! He just ran away! I wanted to laugh at the comedy of this, but before I knew what was happening, I was being pulled from my chair and told to join the group. We were going to “negotiate” our side of the story - as that is the Kenyan way! And delaying the flight because no pilot was scheduled to fly the plane (which they also don’t have, btw) is not acceptable. What about our schedules? the angry mob shouts. Our ring leader believes Kenya Airways should be asking about our schedules, our plans for the day and what a delay of indefinite would mean for us. I so desperately wanted to laugh. I also wanted to be involved in this civil protest. I march on and stifle my giggles.
There were at least 30 of us in this group, marching through the airport, full of excitement and working up those that were already upset. To the customer service counter! We want to speak with the manager on duty! To my surprise and delight, I watch as our ring leader, angry and very tall, turned into a peaceful negotiator – but not until after the manager “hid” from us. We were told the only way to speak to the manager on duty was to go out of the airport, lose our visas, and wait outside. There was then a discussion of what “manager ON DUTY” was suppose to mean. “On duty” logically would mean the manager is here and available. Not to Kenyan Airways though. Nope. We didn’t move. And thirty people congregated in one area gathers a crowd. It was kind of fun, to be honest. Random travelers came up to me to ask what was going on, what we were protesting about. It was 11am at this time and all we wanted was an explanation, a confirmed departure time, and an apology. And oh yes, maybe a pilot to fly the plane. Oh, and a plane, please! The “negotiating” with the manager on-duty went on for a good 45 minutes. I was standing between a European man and an elderly Indian woman. We were all impressed with how peaceful this protest was occurring. It really was impressive.
An unidentifiable free lunch and a free stay in the KQ lounge passed another five hours by. 5p and we are finally on the flight to Maputo – 10 hours late! So much for my sunny Sunday on the beach in Mozambique. At least I got to be a part of my first mob and peaceful protest. It was worth it.
It all began at 4:30am with my alarm finally going off – I had one of those restless nights where I never really could fall asleep and awoke every hour in (subconscious) fear of not awaking with the alarm and missing my early morning flight (which is quite laughable now).
I arrive at the airport (packed at 6am) waiting an hour and a half to get up to the gate. I go through additional security to sit in the boarding room - where I fall asleep. Awakening, I see people are all getting up and being ushered back into the airport. I close my eyes again, desperate for just a few more minutes. Nope - airport guy insists I too get up – my flight has been delayed. “Go get breakfast” he says “come back at 9am for more info and a new departure time”. Fine. I move to the hallway and proceed to continue my nap. At 9a we are told to come back at 10a. I go for a coffee and bonus – Java House has apple pie! 10a the airport man in the most hideous color of mustard (head to toe and with a matching vest!) tells us the flight is delayed indefinitely because they don’t have a crew and can’t find a pilot. Maybe, he says, we will leave at 4p on the LAM flight stopping through northern Mozambique (and taking double the amount of time). But we all need to stick around to find out. Suddenly, a handful of large Kenyan men stand up and started asking very loud “what?” “are you kidding me?” I watch and to my entertainment, the mustard colored man turned and RAN down the hallway! Ha! He just ran away! I wanted to laugh at the comedy of this, but before I knew what was happening, I was being pulled from my chair and told to join the group. We were going to “negotiate” our side of the story - as that is the Kenyan way! And delaying the flight because no pilot was scheduled to fly the plane (which they also don’t have, btw) is not acceptable. What about our schedules? the angry mob shouts. Our ring leader believes Kenya Airways should be asking about our schedules, our plans for the day and what a delay of indefinite would mean for us. I so desperately wanted to laugh. I also wanted to be involved in this civil protest. I march on and stifle my giggles.
There were at least 30 of us in this group, marching through the airport, full of excitement and working up those that were already upset. To the customer service counter! We want to speak with the manager on duty! To my surprise and delight, I watch as our ring leader, angry and very tall, turned into a peaceful negotiator – but not until after the manager “hid” from us. We were told the only way to speak to the manager on duty was to go out of the airport, lose our visas, and wait outside. There was then a discussion of what “manager ON DUTY” was suppose to mean. “On duty” logically would mean the manager is here and available. Not to Kenyan Airways though. Nope. We didn’t move. And thirty people congregated in one area gathers a crowd. It was kind of fun, to be honest. Random travelers came up to me to ask what was going on, what we were protesting about. It was 11am at this time and all we wanted was an explanation, a confirmed departure time, and an apology. And oh yes, maybe a pilot to fly the plane. Oh, and a plane, please! The “negotiating” with the manager on-duty went on for a good 45 minutes. I was standing between a European man and an elderly Indian woman. We were all impressed with how peaceful this protest was occurring. It really was impressive.
An unidentifiable free lunch and a free stay in the KQ lounge passed another five hours by. 5p and we are finally on the flight to Maputo – 10 hours late! So much for my sunny Sunday on the beach in Mozambique. At least I got to be a part of my first mob and peaceful protest. It was worth it.
Apr 2, 2011
blossoms
This morning I looked out across my balcony and my favorite bright white tree had blossomed to pink! I was reminded of the cherry blossoms in Washington D.C. and the sure promise of spring.
Apr 1, 2011
watching for elephants
I step off the plane, my breath catching as my lungs expand with the intense heat. The sun is hot. Palm trees line the runway. I am in Mombasa. My first site visit with this new job, new org, new location. We drive an hour outside the city and the roads are awesomely smooth - I am impressed. Lorries pass us on both sides and deep billows of exhaust straggle through the open windows. I cough. Turning off the awesome road we drive inland. The road begins to disappear, becoming a more bumpy overgrown path, rugged with deep crevices and holes filled with muddy water. I look out to the vast open land - as far as I can see is shrubbery and brush. It is very dry. Red soil spins around as the wind blows. An hour passes and we take a few more turns, now deep into the rural countryside. It is green here. Lush. Trees are tall and the grass is high. Rolling hills give way to a stream, huts are scattered to the left and right. I am told over there is "Canada" - what the locals call an electric wire that runs through the district for miles (and was put in by the Canadian government). We are now driving along Samburu (not to be confused with Samburu National Park - as I was all day). This area is known for elephants! Lots and lots of elephants. My colleague is telling me story after story of when they were out at a project site and a herd of elephants walk right through. My eyes are watching - I want to see an elephant! People pay hundreds of dollars to go on safari and I've been doing it for my job today - I want to see an elephant! A few dick dicks graze under the shrubs. Large birds fly low and scrabble that high pitched noise I hear in the city. Silence falls. Still no elephants. We drive on. The day is long and hot, my left arm is becoming sunburned as it rests out the window, but I don't care. I'm in AFRICA! Driving through the bush looking for elephants. :-) Well, really we are driving from one village to the next checking on water filters, tanks, pans, goats, bees and some more goats. But I pretend, just for a little while, that I'm on safari, watching for elephants!
I didn't see one, by the way. I am assured next time.
I didn't see one, by the way. I am assured next time.
Mar 31, 2011
Mamma Ann
I met a woman this week named Mamma Ann. I don't know her story in its entirety, but I know she must be a remarkable woman. Mamma Ann is one of the area coordinators for an HIV/AIDS care group program we have in the coastal province of Kinango District, a couple hours outside of Mombasa, Kenya. As a care group coordinator, Mamma Ann's responsibilities include supporting volunteer trained community health workers who are working with households of individuals living with HIV/AIDS. Care groups are formed by location and linked to a local medical facility to provide treatment and ongoing after care. The community health workers provide education, liaison, and support to families on a personal level.
Mamma Ann is a volunteer. I met Mamma Ann as she was meeting with one of the care groups and teaching them on a technique of water harvesting we are working to implement in their village. I joined the group looking over the water pan - a large rectangular pan-shaped hole dug in the ground with a rock-base bottom, located on a slope to catch the rain water as it runs down the hill and through the soil. The water is collected and used for irrigation of crops that are planted with a smaller water pan around them to soak up the water. This technique has proven to be successful in an area that suffers from frequent droughts and is sustainable with little resources in remote villages. A simple concept, but for the most vulnerable and in such a remote area, the little resources it takes to to create are not always available. I look down and the soil is course, dry. I trip on the rock bed that has broken through the surface. Our organization will provide the plastic sheeting to line the water pan the community has dug. Mamma Ann will teach and provide assistance as this new technique to harvest water and sustain small household crops is introduced. The water pan is but one project the care group program is working with. Others include integrating participants with our livestock and animal husbandry projects - providing an opportunity of livelihood, increased income and ownership within their communities. Livestock could be chickens, goats, African honey bees or even rabbits (through the local schools and youth program).
Woven in the center of the care group program is an opportunity for ministry.
Mamma Ann is a born-again Christian. She is also married to a Muslim man who practices polygamy. Her husband has multiple wives and many children. They all live on the same compound together. You can imagine her position. Mamma Ann's responsibilities to her family are a full time job. Even so, she volunteers her time diligently and with much joy as a care group coordinator - caring for others who are dying from a stigmatized disease, a disease no one wants to talk about, live around, or assist with. The obvious question is why - why does she volunteer? I want to know how - how does a woman in her circumstance find the strength, the grace, and the compassion to continue to give? Mamma Ann is living out her faith. Literally digging trenches to provide water for life. And while providing support to care for the most ill & discarded, she encourages hope.
"'Not by might, nor by power, but by my spirit,' says the Lord." Zach 4:6.
Remarkable.
Mamma Ann is a volunteer. I met Mamma Ann as she was meeting with one of the care groups and teaching them on a technique of water harvesting we are working to implement in their village. I joined the group looking over the water pan - a large rectangular pan-shaped hole dug in the ground with a rock-base bottom, located on a slope to catch the rain water as it runs down the hill and through the soil. The water is collected and used for irrigation of crops that are planted with a smaller water pan around them to soak up the water. This technique has proven to be successful in an area that suffers from frequent droughts and is sustainable with little resources in remote villages. A simple concept, but for the most vulnerable and in such a remote area, the little resources it takes to to create are not always available. I look down and the soil is course, dry. I trip on the rock bed that has broken through the surface. Our organization will provide the plastic sheeting to line the water pan the community has dug. Mamma Ann will teach and provide assistance as this new technique to harvest water and sustain small household crops is introduced. The water pan is but one project the care group program is working with. Others include integrating participants with our livestock and animal husbandry projects - providing an opportunity of livelihood, increased income and ownership within their communities. Livestock could be chickens, goats, African honey bees or even rabbits (through the local schools and youth program).
Woven in the center of the care group program is an opportunity for ministry.
Mamma Ann is a born-again Christian. She is also married to a Muslim man who practices polygamy. Her husband has multiple wives and many children. They all live on the same compound together. You can imagine her position. Mamma Ann's responsibilities to her family are a full time job. Even so, she volunteers her time diligently and with much joy as a care group coordinator - caring for others who are dying from a stigmatized disease, a disease no one wants to talk about, live around, or assist with. The obvious question is why - why does she volunteer? I want to know how - how does a woman in her circumstance find the strength, the grace, and the compassion to continue to give? Mamma Ann is living out her faith. Literally digging trenches to provide water for life. And while providing support to care for the most ill & discarded, she encourages hope.
"'Not by might, nor by power, but by my spirit,' says the Lord." Zach 4:6.
Remarkable.
Mar 25, 2011
pick up your mat and walk.
“’Sir,’ the invalid replied, ‘I have no one to help me into the pool when the water is stirred. While I am trying to get in, someone else goes down ahead of me.’” John 5:7
Our study this morning was on John chapter 5. To quick recap: a disabled man lay near the healing pool in Bethesda, 38 years he waits for someone to assist him into the healing waters so he may walk. Jesus comes and asks him if he wants to be healed. He answers (7) “yes, but I have no one to help me; someone else always gets in first.” Jesus replies (8): “Get up! Pick up your mat and walk.” We each had different interpretations of what this implies. The study was on dependency and how so many communities in developing countries become dependent on foreign aid; the endless question of what can be done to stop the destructive cycle, but also continue to assist when immediate needs are critical. A colleague interpreted the passage more personally; sharing that sometimes we pray and ask for something with a specific answer in mind. Often, we do not see outside of our box, our thoughts of which solution is best, and miss completely that our prayers have already been answered. Often our healing and assistance may be found right in front of us. We only need to get up, pick up that which we have been lying on, and walk.
In regards to the question on development and outside aid to a community – how do you assist without creating dependence? I believe it is how we work amongst and within communities. Do we view people as beneficiaries, accepting handouts? Or do we ask them to participate in projects, develop ownership, building up leaders from within to ensure sustainability after the project has exited. I want to believe that organizations in international development are putting first the needs of communities and working from within, all the while assessing the impact each project brings. The future effects of bringing in foreign aid and introducing new “sustainable” options to the numerous needs we see around the world - this impact is important. I want to believe - that respect, dignity and basic human rights are being forthright and foremost in each project that is designed and carried through. I want to believe - that vulnerable adults, women, and children are all given priority care and not forgotten in the shadows. I want to believe there is good in people and in work that is done in another’s name. I at times do not see this happening and often feel as if I am laying by the poolside waiting for the miracle worker to show me the healing waters, the magic solution that will cure it all. The answer to the ageless question of how to help without creating dependency; without making the hurt and suffering and lack of self-empowerment worse.
“Get up! Pick up your mat, and walk.” This is what we can do.
Our study this morning was on John chapter 5. To quick recap: a disabled man lay near the healing pool in Bethesda, 38 years he waits for someone to assist him into the healing waters so he may walk. Jesus comes and asks him if he wants to be healed. He answers (7) “yes, but I have no one to help me; someone else always gets in first.” Jesus replies (8): “Get up! Pick up your mat and walk.” We each had different interpretations of what this implies. The study was on dependency and how so many communities in developing countries become dependent on foreign aid; the endless question of what can be done to stop the destructive cycle, but also continue to assist when immediate needs are critical. A colleague interpreted the passage more personally; sharing that sometimes we pray and ask for something with a specific answer in mind. Often, we do not see outside of our box, our thoughts of which solution is best, and miss completely that our prayers have already been answered. Often our healing and assistance may be found right in front of us. We only need to get up, pick up that which we have been lying on, and walk.
In regards to the question on development and outside aid to a community – how do you assist without creating dependence? I believe it is how we work amongst and within communities. Do we view people as beneficiaries, accepting handouts? Or do we ask them to participate in projects, develop ownership, building up leaders from within to ensure sustainability after the project has exited. I want to believe that organizations in international development are putting first the needs of communities and working from within, all the while assessing the impact each project brings. The future effects of bringing in foreign aid and introducing new “sustainable” options to the numerous needs we see around the world - this impact is important. I want to believe - that respect, dignity and basic human rights are being forthright and foremost in each project that is designed and carried through. I want to believe - that vulnerable adults, women, and children are all given priority care and not forgotten in the shadows. I want to believe there is good in people and in work that is done in another’s name. I at times do not see this happening and often feel as if I am laying by the poolside waiting for the miracle worker to show me the healing waters, the magic solution that will cure it all. The answer to the ageless question of how to help without creating dependency; without making the hurt and suffering and lack of self-empowerment worse.
“Get up! Pick up your mat, and walk.” This is what we can do.
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