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May. 8th, 2006 03:43 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
teaonthestairsReporting to you from Turkey, where I have access to 24 hour internet while my dad attends this conference for the first two weeks of my stay here. God it's good to have internet access, it means I have something to entertain myself with - unfortunately I'm the only one under 35 here and though that usually isn't a problem the fact that everyone is here to work means that they have other things on their minds then entertaining me. The town I'm in is pretty, if touristy, it's a town on the eastern Mediterranean called Alanya and it has a beach and shopping aplenty - which at this point is all I really need, I just need to wind down and adjust to the fact that I'm not in Kansas Mombasa anymore, after my mum arrives here next week I'm going to drag her off to see the places I'm desperate to see - like the Temple of Artemis and a hugely nerdish amount of museums. But until then I'm going to indulge and read too much fanficion, lay around on the beach and eat the best food in the whole world. I'm telling you after 9 weeks of no fresh food, of soups, rice, ugali, stews, bread and chips I'm so glad for the mountains of salads and veggies we get served here.
The place I'm staying is pretty cool, it used to be a hotel but its been converted into a workshop and conference center for the WMO, it means that it has all the perks of a hotel and the perks of a conference centre - which means wireless internet! fast wireless internet. So I'm right now laying around in my room (a room of my own! pure luxury!) listening to bad 90's pop and eating Australian chocolate and trying to decide where to start in my fanfiction reading.
I really wish there was someone here I could hang out with - okay I demand someone comes over and keeps me company! Right now! Yes that means you!
The Kenyan Experience.
Yes it needs capitals. Shut up
So Kenya.
I never thought I would've come to love Kenya, but even with it's many faults I still came to love being there. I think the fact that I actually lived there for at least a little while helped - if I was just visiting I could see myself hating it. But after the first couple of weeks of never ending homesickness it became normal and okay. The other volunteers were a big part of this, having people around that speak your language and understand your culture, who you can bitch and moan to - especially the bitching part! - makes such a big difference. I meant to write about my time in Mombasa in more detail while I was there but trying to write about something when you smack bang in the middle of it is harder then I realised. So all you got was little snapshots that were so rushed that they hardly made any sense at all. Maybe the only way I could convey what actually happened in Kenya is to do it visually - words are never my strong point. I have a wealth of pictures that I'll bore you with - but I'm afraid that I think photo posting will have to wait until I get home in early June - where I have access to my whole collection of photos rather then the small collection I have with me now.
But for now you will have to suffer through my butchering of the English language a little more. My Kenya Experience was one of the best of my life - going somewhere so different from home by myself was so crazy and difficult and brilliant. Much of the things I experienced there I found difficult and uncomfortable, Mombasa is such a confronting, dangerous, beautiful city, it's people are friendly and rude, desperate and giving. God the huge number of street children break my heart - the kids I worked with were only a step above street kids - if it wasn't for the goodness of Mr Paul I imagine many of them would have ended up on the street. Working at Bee Hive Children's Home was the best thing about being in Mombasa - getting to work, play, teach and help those children every day was the most awesome thing on this earth. The kids were so sweet and beautiful and energetic and hopeful, they let us join in their games, teased us about our Kiswahali - well our butchering of it anyway - they showed us how things were done, they let us teach them and tried to teach us. The girls thought that my hair, which is only shoulder length, was long - they used to sit on me and plait it every chance they got.
At first it was hard to see what our actual purpose there was - in our first week we didn't see much of the kids and it didn't seem like we were helping Bee Hive all that much, I spent most of my time washing dishes or clothes or sheets or floors. The kids would spend most of the day at school - we would only really see them at lunchtime and even then we would be mostly helping to get lunch out on time. But after the first week I started going to school in the mornings - at first I basically did just babysitting of the youngest kids - there was only two teachers at the school and four classes and because I was confident enough to take an actual class I was in charge of making sure the kids didn't run wild. I did a lot of teaching the little kids songs, helping them remember numbers and letters and writing out basic maths stuff. After a little while though I took Class 2/3 for English and found that I quiet enjoyed myself. After lessons for the day the kids would drag us, we were more then willing, down to the beach to go swimming. We had the best times down at the beach with the kids, the older ones would try and convince me to swim to the other side of the bay and would jump and climb all over us. Most of the younger ones couldn't swim so they took it in turns to be carried out into the deeper water by us volunteers. I only did teaching at the school for a little while though unfortunately, we still went swimming with the kids most days but back at Bee Hive we were starting several projects that needed all volunteers involved. There was four volunteers at Bee Hive, myself, an Irish women called Tricia, Frances from Leeds and Andy from the US - we became pretty close and I hope to see them all again soon - there is talk of a get together in August. Wait getting sidetracked. Most of the projects had to do with administration stuff and security - getting more barb wire around the orphanage fence to stop intruders, arranging for lighting to be installed around the outside compound, this was all kind of smallish stuff though - very important but not the main project. When we arrived the volunteers before us (we were the second group of volunteers - before us their had just been two guys for a month) had completed a basic renovation to a room that had once been servants quarters, they had painted it and reinforced the doors and windows added metal grating for security and brought in beds, this room became the older boys room. 12 of the oldest boys moved out there, this left more room inside for the youngest boys and the girls. When we arrived the kids that were sleeping in the house were sleeping on mattresses on the floor, the younger boys in the downstairs bedroom while the girls slept in the dining room. Mr Paul, the owner of Bee Hive didn't have the funds he needed to buy beds for all the kids - so when we asked him what we could do to help he said that getting beds for the kids was a top priority. We spent two weeks painting the downstairs room bright yellow, ordering beds and mattresses and organising flooring. The room took a while to put together but just after Easter it was completed, it looks so amazing. All the girls moved in there - they needed the privacy and space more then the younger boys. At the moment the others (plus two new volunteers Dan and Carra) are converting the garage into a new room for the youngest boys, I was so disappointed at missing this, it will be great that soon all the kids will have beds.
Besides doing the various projects we have looked into how to getting more funding for Bee Hive - just before I left we got word that, unless something drastic happens, it looks like Bee Hive might not only get some much needed funding for the basics but also maybe a sponsor who is willing to help fund the building of a new school and orphanage. This is so fantastic and mind blowing. Hopefully it will work out.
It was so hard leaving the kids, my last official day was on Friday the 28th of April, originally I was going to be flying home on the 29th but due to this trip to Turkey I didn't have to leave Kenya until the 5th of May, I was going to go to Nairobi for a week and stay with a family I know there but I really didn't want to - I wanted to stay in Mombasa until the last minute so I changed my flight so I left on the 4th - I arranged it so I was on the same plane as another volunteer who was leaving at the same time, Carley, who I got on really well with. This meant that I got to go and see the kids on the Monday as well - which I made my last day at Bee Hive, I didn't want the goodbye to drag on too long - for my sake as well as the kids. On the Monday it was so hard to say goodbye to the kids - as I was leaving the older girls (most of who were near enough to my age that we became friends) tried to drag me back to Bee Hive. On the Tuesday and Wednesday I sort of just wandered around Mombasa thinking 'Oh! I could be at work right now! I wanna go back!' . I still don't think its really hit me that I'm not going back, I'm sure it will soon and I'll be a big mess sobbing in a corner - most likely in public. I'm looking forward to it!
Working nearly everyday was emotionally exhausting - it was so good that we got weekends off, most weekends at least some volunteers were going out of the city - it was good to get away from Mombasa and by Friday I was always looking forward to getting away from the humid, smelly city. I did one Safari, only a small one up in Shimba Hills - the others went on a second one to Tsavo East but another volunteer and I went up to Lamu - an island town that seems stuck in the 16th century, the streets are only an arms length wide and the mode of transport in donkey. It was the most fantastic weekend and I would so recommend it to anyone going near Kenya.
The other weekends were spent up in beach cottages or just bumming around town, one weekend we took a run down old bus for two ours to a Maasai village - we managed to bargain the entry price down to something reasonable - due to the fact that we were volunteers - and got to have a interesting day looking around this Masaai village. It was so weird - like a living museum - they tribe was so used to tourist coming in (nearly 10 bus loads arrived while we were there) that it was all a bit commercial and a little fake - but still very interesting. On the way back we had to hitch a ride - we managed to get a ride on an even older bus - I sat squeezed between these two huge Kenyan women - they taught me how to eat sugar cane, which is something everyone should try - for the two hour trip back.
Because Mombasa does have a lot of tourists coming through its very different from what I thought it was going to be like, I still didn't like to walk around in a strappy top and anything that came above the knee but I felt that I actually could walk around by myself at times - its night life is quite decent as well, it was not uncommon to get home at 3 or 4 on a big weekend night out and almost any night of the week someone was going out - either just to get ice cream, go to the internet or just for a drink and a game of pool. A couple of the other volunteers enjoyed food as much as me and were quiet happy to come out for dinner more the a couple of times.
As a volunteer it was so amusing our attitude to other foreigners, especially the bus loads of tourists. We would find ourselves putting them out and then dismissing them with upturned noses 'Stupid tourists!'. We were always pointing out white people on the streets and asking each other if we knew them, because 6/10 times we did - if not one of the other i to i volunteers then it was likely to be a local or another volunteer from another company or non-profit. We were the biggest snobs.
Its weird to think that I've been to Africa, it sounds stupid but I've spent my whole life dreaming of travelling - to actually have left Australia feels so weird - even after more then two months, sometimes I had those 'Oh fuck! I'm in African' moments and I'm sure I will be having a couple of those 'Shit! I'm in Europe!' moments along the way.
God I can crap on, I swear my time in Kenya wasn't as boring as I made it sound - when I get my photos uploaded you can see the shiny but until then you will have to make do with my cut and dry account, my brains to mushy to remember the funny, sad, horrible moments. Hopefully my brain will kick into action soon!
Yes it needs capitals. Shut up
So Kenya.
I never thought I would've come to love Kenya, but even with it's many faults I still came to love being there. I think the fact that I actually lived there for at least a little while helped - if I was just visiting I could see myself hating it. But after the first couple of weeks of never ending homesickness it became normal and okay. The other volunteers were a big part of this, having people around that speak your language and understand your culture, who you can bitch and moan to - especially the bitching part! - makes such a big difference. I meant to write about my time in Mombasa in more detail while I was there but trying to write about something when you smack bang in the middle of it is harder then I realised. So all you got was little snapshots that were so rushed that they hardly made any sense at all. Maybe the only way I could convey what actually happened in Kenya is to do it visually - words are never my strong point. I have a wealth of pictures that I'll bore you with - but I'm afraid that I think photo posting will have to wait until I get home in early June - where I have access to my whole collection of photos rather then the small collection I have with me now.
But for now you will have to suffer through my butchering of the English language a little more. My Kenya Experience was one of the best of my life - going somewhere so different from home by myself was so crazy and difficult and brilliant. Much of the things I experienced there I found difficult and uncomfortable, Mombasa is such a confronting, dangerous, beautiful city, it's people are friendly and rude, desperate and giving. God the huge number of street children break my heart - the kids I worked with were only a step above street kids - if it wasn't for the goodness of Mr Paul I imagine many of them would have ended up on the street. Working at Bee Hive Children's Home was the best thing about being in Mombasa - getting to work, play, teach and help those children every day was the most awesome thing on this earth. The kids were so sweet and beautiful and energetic and hopeful, they let us join in their games, teased us about our Kiswahali - well our butchering of it anyway - they showed us how things were done, they let us teach them and tried to teach us. The girls thought that my hair, which is only shoulder length, was long - they used to sit on me and plait it every chance they got.
At first it was hard to see what our actual purpose there was - in our first week we didn't see much of the kids and it didn't seem like we were helping Bee Hive all that much, I spent most of my time washing dishes or clothes or sheets or floors. The kids would spend most of the day at school - we would only really see them at lunchtime and even then we would be mostly helping to get lunch out on time. But after the first week I started going to school in the mornings - at first I basically did just babysitting of the youngest kids - there was only two teachers at the school and four classes and because I was confident enough to take an actual class I was in charge of making sure the kids didn't run wild. I did a lot of teaching the little kids songs, helping them remember numbers and letters and writing out basic maths stuff. After a little while though I took Class 2/3 for English and found that I quiet enjoyed myself. After lessons for the day the kids would drag us, we were more then willing, down to the beach to go swimming. We had the best times down at the beach with the kids, the older ones would try and convince me to swim to the other side of the bay and would jump and climb all over us. Most of the younger ones couldn't swim so they took it in turns to be carried out into the deeper water by us volunteers. I only did teaching at the school for a little while though unfortunately, we still went swimming with the kids most days but back at Bee Hive we were starting several projects that needed all volunteers involved. There was four volunteers at Bee Hive, myself, an Irish women called Tricia, Frances from Leeds and Andy from the US - we became pretty close and I hope to see them all again soon - there is talk of a get together in August. Wait getting sidetracked. Most of the projects had to do with administration stuff and security - getting more barb wire around the orphanage fence to stop intruders, arranging for lighting to be installed around the outside compound, this was all kind of smallish stuff though - very important but not the main project. When we arrived the volunteers before us (we were the second group of volunteers - before us their had just been two guys for a month) had completed a basic renovation to a room that had once been servants quarters, they had painted it and reinforced the doors and windows added metal grating for security and brought in beds, this room became the older boys room. 12 of the oldest boys moved out there, this left more room inside for the youngest boys and the girls. When we arrived the kids that were sleeping in the house were sleeping on mattresses on the floor, the younger boys in the downstairs bedroom while the girls slept in the dining room. Mr Paul, the owner of Bee Hive didn't have the funds he needed to buy beds for all the kids - so when we asked him what we could do to help he said that getting beds for the kids was a top priority. We spent two weeks painting the downstairs room bright yellow, ordering beds and mattresses and organising flooring. The room took a while to put together but just after Easter it was completed, it looks so amazing. All the girls moved in there - they needed the privacy and space more then the younger boys. At the moment the others (plus two new volunteers Dan and Carra) are converting the garage into a new room for the youngest boys, I was so disappointed at missing this, it will be great that soon all the kids will have beds.
Besides doing the various projects we have looked into how to getting more funding for Bee Hive - just before I left we got word that, unless something drastic happens, it looks like Bee Hive might not only get some much needed funding for the basics but also maybe a sponsor who is willing to help fund the building of a new school and orphanage. This is so fantastic and mind blowing. Hopefully it will work out.
It was so hard leaving the kids, my last official day was on Friday the 28th of April, originally I was going to be flying home on the 29th but due to this trip to Turkey I didn't have to leave Kenya until the 5th of May, I was going to go to Nairobi for a week and stay with a family I know there but I really didn't want to - I wanted to stay in Mombasa until the last minute so I changed my flight so I left on the 4th - I arranged it so I was on the same plane as another volunteer who was leaving at the same time, Carley, who I got on really well with. This meant that I got to go and see the kids on the Monday as well - which I made my last day at Bee Hive, I didn't want the goodbye to drag on too long - for my sake as well as the kids. On the Monday it was so hard to say goodbye to the kids - as I was leaving the older girls (most of who were near enough to my age that we became friends) tried to drag me back to Bee Hive. On the Tuesday and Wednesday I sort of just wandered around Mombasa thinking 'Oh! I could be at work right now! I wanna go back!' . I still don't think its really hit me that I'm not going back, I'm sure it will soon and I'll be a big mess sobbing in a corner - most likely in public. I'm looking forward to it!
Working nearly everyday was emotionally exhausting - it was so good that we got weekends off, most weekends at least some volunteers were going out of the city - it was good to get away from Mombasa and by Friday I was always looking forward to getting away from the humid, smelly city. I did one Safari, only a small one up in Shimba Hills - the others went on a second one to Tsavo East but another volunteer and I went up to Lamu - an island town that seems stuck in the 16th century, the streets are only an arms length wide and the mode of transport in donkey. It was the most fantastic weekend and I would so recommend it to anyone going near Kenya.
The other weekends were spent up in beach cottages or just bumming around town, one weekend we took a run down old bus for two ours to a Maasai village - we managed to bargain the entry price down to something reasonable - due to the fact that we were volunteers - and got to have a interesting day looking around this Masaai village. It was so weird - like a living museum - they tribe was so used to tourist coming in (nearly 10 bus loads arrived while we were there) that it was all a bit commercial and a little fake - but still very interesting. On the way back we had to hitch a ride - we managed to get a ride on an even older bus - I sat squeezed between these two huge Kenyan women - they taught me how to eat sugar cane, which is something everyone should try - for the two hour trip back.
Because Mombasa does have a lot of tourists coming through its very different from what I thought it was going to be like, I still didn't like to walk around in a strappy top and anything that came above the knee but I felt that I actually could walk around by myself at times - its night life is quite decent as well, it was not uncommon to get home at 3 or 4 on a big weekend night out and almost any night of the week someone was going out - either just to get ice cream, go to the internet or just for a drink and a game of pool. A couple of the other volunteers enjoyed food as much as me and were quiet happy to come out for dinner more the a couple of times.
As a volunteer it was so amusing our attitude to other foreigners, especially the bus loads of tourists. We would find ourselves putting them out and then dismissing them with upturned noses 'Stupid tourists!'. We were always pointing out white people on the streets and asking each other if we knew them, because 6/10 times we did - if not one of the other i to i volunteers then it was likely to be a local or another volunteer from another company or non-profit. We were the biggest snobs.
Its weird to think that I've been to Africa, it sounds stupid but I've spent my whole life dreaming of travelling - to actually have left Australia feels so weird - even after more then two months, sometimes I had those 'Oh fuck! I'm in African' moments and I'm sure I will be having a couple of those 'Shit! I'm in Europe!' moments along the way.
God I can crap on, I swear my time in Kenya wasn't as boring as I made it sound - when I get my photos uploaded you can see the shiny but until then you will have to make do with my cut and dry account, my brains to mushy to remember the funny, sad, horrible moments. Hopefully my brain will kick into action soon!
I'm seriously craving photoshop. And bed. And fanfiction. And my DVDs. And choclate. Maybe not in that order.
