T.I.A.

I don't really know where to start on this one. I'm currently in a cyber in Kawangare-- one of the major slums of Kenya. I can take as much time as I want on it thought because it only costs 1 bob, .13 cents, a minute. I'll be brief about the flight or sleeping in the airport terminal like Tom Hanks because those experiences pale in comparison to my time actually in the country so far. The plane ride to Qatar was amazing. I felt like I was in first class and the twelve hours went by quickly. Qatar was hot, about 110 degrees. I wandered around the airport for a while and slept on random couches. Done. The flight to Kenya was okay. That plane was a regular one and this Chinese guy chatted me up a bit about China and what not. When I first arrived in Kenya I noticed that a lot of it looked like Jamaica but I soon realized that it's nothing like it. I feel accepted when I'm in Jamaica, but here I am a Mzungu. Mzunug's denotation means English-speaking, but it's connotation essentially means white person. At first it seemed like a lot of people didn't like outsiders, but many were just intimidated. I'm not saying that there aren't those who hate outsiders, but most of the people feel inferior. It's the colonial oppression running through their veins that might not ever bleed out. Some people won't look you in the eye, some look at the ground, some don't speak, and everyone stares. I can't walk down the street without literally hearing Mzungu after every person I pass. I'm fine with it though. People always label others by what is easiest to see: "Look at that white girl Mary," or "I sit next to some black girl." At first I wanted to be accepted, but I soon realized that that would be an insult to Kenyans and all of the other African people around the world. My skin color doesn't enable me to become a part of every other black person's culture. I don't know Kenyans struggle, I don't know their country, and I certainly don't know what it means to be Kenyan. People aren't skin deep. I've already done and seen a lot of crazy things here. When I got picked up at the airport I went over to my temporary house that is owned by a woman named Mama Lydia. She was cool and her house was realy nice, running water and everything. I met other volunteers, some new some old, and we all got to know each other. I now have a lot of friends from England, Canada, and Australia. We went out to a bar that night and had some beer. I met a guy there who was the promotional manager of my favorite Kenyan beer- Tusker. He kept buying me beer and other guys were too. I became friendly with a lot of them and due to the fact that I learned a little Swahili, far more than the other volunteers, they felt more comfortable with me. Due to the fact that I separated myself from the other volunteers, the promotional manager, Oyaya, and I were able to talk about personal things. We spoke about race, America, Kenya, Africa, tribes, racism, life, love, and a lot of other things. We agreed on a lot. He said that if he was white, he would be the whitest. That's one of the things that has stuck with me throughout the trip. What he said means that you basically have to do the best that you can in life to the fullest extent. He gave me his numbers, work and mobile, and told me to call him for more beer and conversation. He also told me that he would drive me around Kenya for free and I told him that would be good. I know it sounds dumb but I'm good at feeling people out. I would definitely bring someone with me though if he ever called me. I'm not here to get drunk and act stupid every night but a relief is good once in a while. The next day I went to orientation and that was good. I learned useful things like how to not get mugged. After that I went to my permanent house. I met the host family and they were pretty nice. I also met Callum. With the words "Fancy going out tonight?" I knew that some crazy stuff was going to go down. We got picked up by a taxi and in it were other volunteers Callum knew from his temporary house. We went to a club and once we got in and paid we saw a pole dancer. I didn't really know we were going to a strip club. The pole dancer was okay but sort of turned me on. I don't like seeing women do those type of degrading things. Once we sat down and ordered some drinks a prostitute started to kiss me. I didn't want to be rude but I also didn't want any of what she had you know. I got her off of me and I started to dance with this girl who was dancing in front of a mirror for ten minutes by herself. She was nice and put up with my random intrusion. After a while a lot more prostitutes came up to us and were really forward. I messed with them for a little bit, not physically just said funny things to them, and then followed my Callum and others to the smoking room. I don't smoke at all so it was a little nasty being in there but it was fun. A lot of stuff happened with the prostitutes in the club that night, I assure you nothing physical, but some rude things were said that I would rather not write here. After the club we went back to the house and it was 5am. The door was locked. It took a while for our host Oliver to get there but it was okay. The next day he had a talk with us and it was all good. I ate eggs for the first time in my life. They were good so I think I'm an egg eater now. Last night Callum and I went out to see Harry potter, which sucked, and when we got back at 12:30 no one was answering the door. We banged and banged on the door but still no answer. After a while we thought that they were not home so we tried getting a taxi to where we thougth they were. None were stopping so we decided to walk. Not a smart move at all because it was pitch black and we were in an extremely dangerous slum. I grabbed a rock in order to defend myself if it came to that, but then I decided not to walk and just wait for them. Cops drove by and stopped and spoke to us. I saw one step out with a huge AK47 but it was fine. They brought us upstairs and after a while of banging and flashlight shining people inside the house came out. They're just heavy sleepers I guess, or maybe they wanted to teach us a lesson. Anyway, I should probably talk about the most important part of my journey so far. I volunteer at an orphanage called the Agape Hope Center. My host family runs it. Once I got there the red dirt on the ground began to make my nostrils burn. All of the children came up to us and said "Habari Gani!" Most of them started to grab our hands and ask for hugs. After a while of messing around I took a football out and we started to kick it around. The older kids were kicking it with me and I asked how old they were. They said 12 and 13 but I didn't believe it because they were all about 4 feet tall. I asked one of the head people if they were really all around 12 and 13 and he said yes. I asked him white they were so small and he said because of malnutrition. I honestly wanted to cry. He realized how bad I felt with my faint reply of "Oh," and he said "Yeah, now you get it don't you." He shook his head and said it in a way that made me realize he thought I was ignorant to the troubles of the world. I partially am, but I'm making progress. Not all of the kids are orphans. Some have one parent, both, or none. Regardless of this they can't be taken care of at home. They either play with rocks and nail, do funny hand gestures, or play with things as basic as a little string tied to a wooden post. My eyes open to real struggle when I compare their seemingly basic sources of pleasure to the jungle gyms and playground of my youth. They are all so energetic and full of life. I'm not here to be their saviour though, I can't be. Whenever they start to cry the other volunteers grab them and try to console them but I don't. They have to learn that no one else can give them what they truly need. They have to liberate themselves and become their own sources of motivation in order to have better lives. Lives not full of disease and neglect. What I am here for is to make them realize that life isn't about just living, but that it is about living happily regardless of your situation. This boy, Antony, has all of the potential in the world to become a good football player. Once we gave him the ball he began to touch it like he was born with it attached to his foot. We taught him how to rainbow in literally three minutes. It's kids like these that make me want to be the best person that I can possibly be. All of them speak at least three or more langauges like most people in Kenya: Swahili, English, and their own tribal language. These Kenyan people that I see all of the time are content with who they are and most of them know the joy of life. I saw a man who had a perfectly good leg with a backwards foot. His foot was totally backwards but he didn't have any scars so I guess he was born that way. It's people like that that make me give them honor instead of pity. Pity leads to more poverty, not progress. There's a saying that a lot of the Mzungus say here. Whenever anything isn't that clean or doesn't go right they say "T.I.A." which stands for "This is Africa." I say it everywhere I go because everywhere hold more knowledge and beauty than I have encountered anywhere else so far in my life. " T.I.A.