Today was my first day volunteering. But before I get to that I will start with last night. I have been having a really hard time going to sleep. First of all, the bed that I am currently sleeping in is in a little girls room and has a terrible mattress. The mattress is actually caved in the middle so that it does not support my body at all. Every morning I wake up and my back is killing me. I have started to stuff blankets under the center of the bed in hopes of getting a flat service to sleep upon. I am not sure if I am accomplishing this goal. Also, there are a lot of starving dogs that bark and cry through the night. It is miserable. And, I keep worrying about mosquito's so I don't leave the window's open (because they don't have screens) and there is also no fan in the room so it gets quite stuffy as the night goes on. Not to mention the 8 hour time difference that has me totally out of wack. I think I managed to get about 2 hours of sleep last night. I woke up at 6 a.m. this morning and prepared for my first day of work. The name of the children's center is...well I forgot the name, but it is run by local women who are mostly retired and seeking to help improve the community. The center is located in the slums and serves poor school children lunch everyday.They also provide free childcare services for 3-6 year-olds. Many of the children that they serve are abandoned by the effects of HIV/AIDS...either both of their parents have died or one died and the other left in order to hide the shame of their sickness. Some children live with their grandparents; however most of the children who come here are on their own and are somehow raising each other. DsSome of them are HIV/AIDS positive themselves. Since the children are currently out of school many of them come to the center during the day to hang out with other children and to get a hot meal. The government periodically sends programs to help teach the children; according to Ms. Mary they NEVER send money. I came in during a government health program to teach children about safe sex...actually, that is not what they did at all. They taught the children about abstinence and the teacher told the class, "Just forget about sex until you are married." One boy raised his hand and asked "What about masturbation?" The teacher looks shocked and said, "You should engage yourself in other activities that will expend your energy. Go for jogging. Go play football. Go to church. These things will help you forget about sex." In a country where HIV/AIDS has become such an epidemic that economic growth has been effected, I think masturbation would be a dear friend to young adults, especially those who have already lost a loved one to the disease. This disturbed me so much, that I had to talk to the teacher after class. After lying and telling him how much I enjoyed his lesson, I went in for the kill, "Sooo....Is this a religious program or a government program?".
"Oh, it is a government program that was sponsored by the Catholic church".
"So what would be the problem with young people, with God-given sexual desires, masturbating?".
"God doesn't want that," pause, "and they might become addicted to it!"
My experience in Ghana taught me to leave it there. When someone is so culturally different it is impossible to argue. I guess I just want to make friends while here so everyone won't hate me. It made my heart hurt a lot though. The more I talk to locals the more I understand the HIV/AIDS epidemic is so deep, it is more than just a health issue, it arises from so many social issues. One of them being the lack of education. The other is, the lack of education by internal people who are best fit to solve their own problems. Why in the world would Catholics not acknowledge that they need to alter their message for the unique circumstance of the African people. They should! Especially considering that they, and other White Christians, caused half of Africa's problems when they arrived on the continent hundreds of years ago. Sadly, they are still a great contributor to African's problems today. So I decided I did not want to continue to sit in on the sex-mis-education class...
I went to the kitchen to see if they needed any help. They put me work immediately! I love working in the kitchen with the women and girls. They teach me Swahili. We laugh. We work. Back breaking work. The hardest work I've ever done in a kitchen in my life. I sweat. I choke on the air. I chop. I chop some more. I take a break. I chop some more. I wash dishes. My back hurts. I take a break. I was more dishes. I sweep. I mop. I stir. Only for a minute. They take the spoon away in disgust with my stirring. We laugh. I love the kitchen. Check me out:
The first thing I do every morning is cut and clean vegetables. These potatoes were covered in dirt when I first started (farmers don't wash certain vegetables in the market...usually the ones that people are going to peel the skin off of). All the leaf vegetables are cut really fine. This bowl of cabbage is huge and took forever.
Then we serve the children breakfast. Sorry, I didn't get any pictures of that.
Then I help wash dishes. This is truly back breaking work, but the girls help me. Water is really important, so there is no running water used to wash dishes. We make one huge pot of water and wash a million dishes in it.
Then I take a break and read a book for about an hour while drinking a cup of tea. Everyone loves to offer a cup of tea in Kenya...and the tea is pretty good...if only they didn't put so much milk in it...
I probably read about 5 pages a day because the kids interrupt my reading with their games and questions. "How do you say Kenya in your language?" a girl asked. "Kenya", I respond. The crack up laughing. "How do you say rice in your language?" "Rice." They laugh again. "You all realize that we both speak English? Most of the words are going to be the exact same". Yet, the continue to ask these questions for another hour or so...I don't mind one bit.
Finally, I help cook lunch in these huge firewood burning stoves. In this picture I was cooking ugali, which is the Kenyan version of grits. It is eaten for breakfast and lunch and served in a harder more solid form than American grits. You eat it with your hands with stew. I like it. But it was hard to make. It is impossible to stir, so my arms were getting tired. Notice all the smoke in this picture. I would run outside every 10 stirs and go get some fresh air. I was coughing and my eyes were turning red. The old lady in the kitchen was crying laughing of me. None of the Kenyan women left the kitchen even once...
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