Hi Everyone. Just wanted to tell you that I am still alive and doing very well. I have been communicating through the internet a lot less frequently because I am busy in Machakos when I am not at school for class and soccer. I am becoming consumed with Exodus and I guess I have the title "Assistant Project Coordinator." Probably my first title EVER. I'll be moving to Exodus in about one month, where I'll spend most of the remainder of my time in here in Kenya (which comes to a close on JULY 17TH). I'm learning so much about non-profits and working with orphans. Right now we are working on getting enough beds for the kids, textbooks, and reading books. Here's a poem I wrote a while back. I'm not sure if it's done yet. Let me know what you think...
Painting A Picture With a Pencil
To craft a picture of reality through words
Seems impossible.
Refugees and IDPs, Mau Forest trees,
AIDS orphans, polygamy, corruption,
And poverty in its most absolute manifestation.
Diction fails truth.
Nimeongea, nimeandika, but umesikia kweli?
(I’ve talked, I’ve written, but have you really heard?)
To turn a blank page into a three dimensional exhibit
Seems impossible.
Did the belly bulge into the vision at the mention starvation?
Was rust seizing the house of corrugated metal sheets?
Did dust cloud the page’s emptiness at the mention of drought?
Was odor of burning trash real like a scratch-and-sniff?
Words cannot draw reality
As lead cannot speak colors.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Baby Steve Has More Hair Than My Dad
I’m back at school after spending five full days in Kisumu, Lwanda, and Matongo. I traveled with my good friend and roommate, Raija. Her family stays in Kisumu and in a rural area called Matongo, so I spent a lot of time with her at her home. I also visited Martin and Syprose and baby Stephen Otieno Arogo. Four of their other six kids are living at home at this time, so it was nice to see them too, especially because we are the same age. Steve and Syprose both seem to be doing well. Martin and Syprose are happy parents! They would sometimes call Steve “Lora’s Dad” in Swahili and tell me to greet my “dad.” At home in Lwanda, I spent lots of time talking with George and his new wife Lizzy. I got to spend an afternoon with a good friend of mine called Patrick. It was a relaxing week, filled with lots of laughter and chapati. Raija and I carried back with us sweet potates, avocados, pineapples, and matoke (green bananas, PICTURED ABOVE), which are very cheap and plentiful on that side of Kenya. Fortunetly for me, all of those are my favorite foods, and I don’t know what I’ll do in the U.S. when I have to pay $1.50 for an avocado that I can buy in Kenya for 10 cents.
Here on campus, I washed my clothes this morning, then prepared a nice lunch of rice, vegetables, and green grams (they’re like lentils). I’ll go to soccer this afternoon, and spend time with friends in the evening.
Monday, March 15, 2010
Not Just Another Number 58
Last week Monday I accompanied Jessica and Elijah on a child visit of a six-year-old orphaned boy. I shared with you about our last child analysis far in the mountains; however this visit was almost too much for my heart to handle. I’ll try to describe the situation to the best of my ability.
This child also lives in a beautiful rural area about an hour from Machakos. We arrived at his home, where he stays alone with his grandmother. We came to find out that this boy’s grandmother gave birth to seven children out of wedlock, something very counterculture. All of her children died (likely from AIDS), except one who is alive with a couple kids. The last one to die was this boy’s mother. She had three children, two of who survived her. After the mother’s death, this boy’s older (and only) sister, who was just starting high school, began to spend nights with different men, which resulted in pregnancy. The girl abused the grandmother and even sold her only cow before abandoning her brother and moving to Nairobi.
Arriving at their brick home, the first thing I noticed was the smell of animals: dogs and chickens. The home had a lot of maize stored inside all. The grandmother, looking quite fragile and old, was seated on a sack of maize eating chapati and drinking chai. She had few teeth, no use of her fingers and could barely talk. She said that she was born normal, but suffered from severe malaria, which would cause her to frequently die for a day and then come back to life. I myself could barely understand what she meant, but apparently this sickness caused the disabling of her fingers and tongue. She can barely communicate verbally. She is unable to do almost anything, including cooking. Thankfully, a neighbor (I believe she is actually her only granddaughter from her one living child) who is in high school comes everyday to bring them food. She is the only person providing for this boy and his grandmother, meaning they are completely dependent on her for survival.
To make matters worse, we asked the boy what he owned and about school. He had two usable notebooks for school and a ripped sweater, which is one part of the required uniform. When Jessica asked if he had a pencil, he said yes and returned with a pencil smaller than my pinkie finger. He didn’t have shoes. What made this boy’s vulnerability so real to me was that he is ranked number 58 out of 65 students in his first grade class. In the six tested subject areas, he achieved between 10 and 32 percent in each. This was no surprise considering his conditions. Who is there to help him with school work?
Jessica and Elijah asked that he be tested for HIV/AIDS, a request, which made the grandmother uncomfortable. This boy is very needy and I hope that we can support him from his home for a while and then take him into the Center. However, I don’t know what will happen with him. We have to go back for another assessment after some time. He has the right to an environment that is not only livable, but also healthy. I can’t describe the sick feeling I had inside of me after leaving this child visit. I can’t allow myself to forget that he is still there as I write this, just like millions of other orphans.
This child also lives in a beautiful rural area about an hour from Machakos. We arrived at his home, where he stays alone with his grandmother. We came to find out that this boy’s grandmother gave birth to seven children out of wedlock, something very counterculture. All of her children died (likely from AIDS), except one who is alive with a couple kids. The last one to die was this boy’s mother. She had three children, two of who survived her. After the mother’s death, this boy’s older (and only) sister, who was just starting high school, began to spend nights with different men, which resulted in pregnancy. The girl abused the grandmother and even sold her only cow before abandoning her brother and moving to Nairobi.
Arriving at their brick home, the first thing I noticed was the smell of animals: dogs and chickens. The home had a lot of maize stored inside all. The grandmother, looking quite fragile and old, was seated on a sack of maize eating chapati and drinking chai. She had few teeth, no use of her fingers and could barely talk. She said that she was born normal, but suffered from severe malaria, which would cause her to frequently die for a day and then come back to life. I myself could barely understand what she meant, but apparently this sickness caused the disabling of her fingers and tongue. She can barely communicate verbally. She is unable to do almost anything, including cooking. Thankfully, a neighbor (I believe she is actually her only granddaughter from her one living child) who is in high school comes everyday to bring them food. She is the only person providing for this boy and his grandmother, meaning they are completely dependent on her for survival.
To make matters worse, we asked the boy what he owned and about school. He had two usable notebooks for school and a ripped sweater, which is one part of the required uniform. When Jessica asked if he had a pencil, he said yes and returned with a pencil smaller than my pinkie finger. He didn’t have shoes. What made this boy’s vulnerability so real to me was that he is ranked number 58 out of 65 students in his first grade class. In the six tested subject areas, he achieved between 10 and 32 percent in each. This was no surprise considering his conditions. Who is there to help him with school work?
Jessica and Elijah asked that he be tested for HIV/AIDS, a request, which made the grandmother uncomfortable. This boy is very needy and I hope that we can support him from his home for a while and then take him into the Center. However, I don’t know what will happen with him. We have to go back for another assessment after some time. He has the right to an environment that is not only livable, but also healthy. I can’t describe the sick feeling I had inside of me after leaving this child visit. I can’t allow myself to forget that he is still there as I write this, just like millions of other orphans.
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Baby Steve
Nowadays, the joy in my heart comes from my little brothers and sisters at Exodus. I spent Sunday evening and Monday at the Home this past weekend. On Sunday, there was a lot of rain, but when I finally reached the centre the kids were so excited to see me. I came in the gate and saw Baraka. He grabbed me by the arm led me inside where all the kids were quietly studying. He stuck his head in the door and said in a soft voice, “Lora’s here.” Immediately all the kids screamed and ran over to mob me! We spent some time around home and then all 25 of us trekked through the mud about 2 kilometers to the “kinyozi” or salon. Can you imagine what we looked like walking down the dirt road? Quite a lively crew… twenty-three kids between ages 4 and 15. It was a fun time though. I am so impressed with the discipline and good manners of each and every child at the Home. There is something about those kids that gives me the driving desire to give them all of my heart and all of the love and affection I could ever offer. Somehow at the end of the day when I think my heart is empty because I gave away everything, I find that it is still full and overflowing with love and satisfaction. As I get to know the kids and their stories, I am moved. Many of them are traumatized and have a lot of pain that requires more healing time; yet they are able to love others, work hard, and carry hope for the future. They are an amazing group of kids and they’re probably all that I’ll be blogging about from now on.
Some news from my OTHER family (the Arogo's): Syprose delivered her seventh child last night, a baby boy. She named him Steve after my dad! Martin sent me a text last night saying that if they have a girl, she'll be named Lora, and if a boy then he'll be named after my father. What a blessing! I didn't know what to say, but I didn't feel worthy to be named after! So, congrats, dad... Martin and Syprose don't even know you, but they respect you so much to name their child after you! I'll head home to Kisumu to visit in about a week and a half.
photos above: my friends at Exodus and the view from my dorm room window (in the self catering dorm I moved into)
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