Rainy season be upon us!

Tis bucketin down so it is, fierce wet altogether. Its making me strangely nostalgic for home, especially when a van drove past and splashed me with water from head to toe. We've been managing ok though, made it to the market yesterday. We had to edge our way along through the mud in between the stalls and piles of fruit, and when I finally looked up I realised we'd lost Connie (who was merrily ploughing ahead to lead the way) and Phoebe had given up straggling behind us and gone home to wash off the mud. Marley and I soldiered bravely on through the alleyways of stalls to eventually locate Connie, past a man who greeted me with a cheerful "Greetings fellow citizen!" and another who told me I was very pretty and this made him so happy he would be delighted to sell me some handkerchiefs. I politely refused.

It's been an interesting week. We took the kids to Haller Park and had a picnic. This attracted the attention of quite a large group of monkeys, one of whom ran up and snatched a sandwich from a volunteer's hand. This scared the children so in an attempt to show them that the monkeys were harmless and more afraid of us than we were of them, I clapped loudly at the one eyeing my banana, whereupon it bared its teeth, snarled at me and leapt towards my head. I screamed and ran, failing hugely to instill any sense of calm in the already freaked out children. They started pelting the monkeys with stones and sticks which served only to further provoke them. I stood in the middle trying desperately to be heard as I screamed "DO NOT ENRAGE THE MONKEYS! I REPEAT, DO NOT ENRAGE THE MONKEYS!" It soon became clear that the monkeys were indeed enraged and quickly advancing, so we fled to a safer area. No children were injured during the experience, although one child was bitten by a giraffe during feeding time. I am now terrified of all animals, regardless of size or diet preference.

On another note, I was offered a soapstone penis this afternoon by a security man selling carvings from the back of a truck. He pointed out that even if I had no "personal use" for it, I could always use it to demonstrate condom useage to teenagers as it was to scale and surprisingly lifelike. I politely refused.
Still, if anyone has any requests... :)

Goodbye Mr Neal!

I know this isnt quite the "hidden message" I promised you, but you spend enough time avoiding the limelight! Thank you Neal Ford, for all your hard work and willingness to pitch in regardless of the task. Thanks for your patience and sense of humour, for quietly and unassumingly making everyone's load a little lighter, for uncomplainingly giving the best of yourself every single day. And more importantly, thank you for the late night chats, appreciating the wonder that is Bewitched, bringing lego music videos into my life-and the cake. :)

Its one of the things that sucks about being a long term volunteer here: you meet all these amazing people and then they have to go.But to all the people Ive taught with- Khim, Hanni, PC, Neal, Becca-its been so cool working with such dedicated, fun people. You guys see a small piece of the picture, then you go home and we reap the benefits of your hard work. So thanks guys, we dont forget you!

Sarah, Becca, Neal, Lizzie, Nicola, Lydia, Cherry,Hanni, PC, Emma,  Rachel,Erica, Lori, Dianne, Matt, Jess, Laura,Julia, Elaine, Viv, Zan, Sophie, Anna Marie, Rachel Bee, Cheryl, Rebecca, Amanda, Khim, and all the guys who will leave before me- thank you. Its been good. :)

Carnival Day!!!!

Yes, it was worthy of  excessive punctuation. :) We had 7 stations manned by volunteers: limbo dancing, hopskotch, balloon racing, egg and spoon racing (with potatos because they try to eat the eggs, although some also tried to eat the potatoes) ring toss, bowling and facepainting (yours truly.)

We started out smugly confident in our organisational skill, even employing an extra volunteer to parade around supervising and to ring a bell every 15 minutes to signal that it was time to rotate activities. I set myself up in one of the classrooms along with 2 local teachers and waited for the bell to ring...

It was insane. I was engulfed by hoards of tiny children squealing in delight, grabbing brushes, sticking their fingers in the paint, knocking over the water, grabbing my sleeve and screaming urgently, " SPIDAHMAN MADAM! SPIDAHMAN!".I painted like a demon, knocking out 3 spidermen and a lion in under ten minutes only to see the Kenyan teachers languidly doodling flowers on the cheeks of the kids I had just painted, still dripping from washing it off before sneaking back in for more. I managed to paint the same kid three times myself: as spiderman, half zebra half spiderman, then a lion.When I called him out he looked very affronted and attempted to convince me (with white and red paint still smeared across his forehead) that he had never been near a face painting stall in his life. Every time the bell rang I was beseiged by an influx of new children pressing against the crowd of those already waiting and sending them into a panic that they would be overlooked. At one point I was attempting to shoo the kids already painted out the door while ushering in those still waiting, tripped over a bench, ripped my trousers and smeared paint up my arm. I sat down (feeling just a tad flustered) and a smiling kindergartener began to poke me in the neck with a paintbrush.

I left the classroom dazed and covered in paint, children still swinging off me, to discover that no one had wanted to play hopskotch,the bowling pins kept blowing over in the wind, and the balloon races had come to a halt after 5 minutes due to the bursting of all the balloons. Limbo had been abandoned in favour of a high jump competition, and the majority of kindergarten were so overwhelmed by excitement and facepaint fumes that they were standing in their classroom screaming at the top of their not so tiny lungs. The yard was dotted with filthy, bewildered looking volunteers-and tons of laughing, smiling kids.

Some cliches are true. It was worth it for those smiles. :)

That being said, I cant wait for Easter break...:P

Ayub as Spiderman, courtesy of Madam Connie.

Crocodile Farm Trip

It's the Easter holidays here so the kids are off school. We run a holiday camp and they get to go on school tours, it's all very exciting. Im usually teaching in Olives but I'm in Precious for the holiday camp. It's been really cool to see both schools and to meet the kids I've been hearing so much about. It's very different to Olives, much smaller and calmer.
It's been a good week: Monday was our music workshop, Tuesday was sports day, Wednesday was arts and crafts and today was the trip to the crocodile farm. I got my kids dancing to the Smashing Pumpkins and Stevie Wonder on music day, won the 3 legged staff race on Tuesday and made a lot of very noisy rain shakers on Wednesday which were then shaken very vigorously in my ears until I snapped and ordered quiet time. :)
The crocodile farm was cool, the kids walked all the way there-all 76 of them-down the main road in the blazing sun with no complaints. There were LOADS of crocodiles, I was elbowing kids out of the way to get a decent look! They loved it, there were newborn teeny tiny crocs, freakily still and evil looking teenage crocs and massive, ancient reptiles that looked like armoured trucks with teeth. We also got to see and hold a snake which again, I got overexcited about. I hurried to the front and the guide asked me very nicely if the children could go first. I was magnimonious enough to permit it.

The highlight of the day was a pair of mating tortoises which I have to admit was quite intriguing. It seems like such a lot of effort, one has to admire the persistence of a species in the face of such adversity. The gentleman tortoise of an amorous nature has to contend with the equivilent of a very small lady hiding under a giant tub whilst attempting to carry a similar tub on his own back. It probably didnt help that a 3rd tortoise (sex unknown) kept butting him determinedly with its head. We eventually dragged the kids away and made it back to school with the same number of children we left with, which in my book is a successful school trip. :)

Bowlerama!

Yesterday evening was our first volunteer/ teacher outing-we took the teachers from Precious and Olives to the bowling alley. We were a bit apprehensive at first, not sure if they would turn up, but just as we were about to give up Mr Tony arrived with a bunch of Olives teachers, including Madam Rukia with 2 year old Hassan strapped to her back. On the journey there one of our regular boda boda drivers, Bonnie, mentioned that bowling is his favourite game; so our night out with the teachers ended up including a baby and a boda driver. :)

It was awesome. Madam Jane bowled the way she does everything else-aggressively, enthusiastically and at top volume. You could hear the bowling ball thud every time she hurled it towards the skittles. She got quite a few strikes! Mr Julius was a bit nervous having never played before, we were all very reassuring until he beat us soundly and said smiling proudly "I think this is a good game, I will play again!" Mr Tony was so chuffed at coming 2nd that he printed out the results and took them home and Bonnie trounced everyone on his team and drove us home with a massive grin on his face. I kept missing my go cos I was playing peekaboo with Hassan. I was getting pretty into it but he was totally unimpressed and just munched his popcorn while eyeing me suspiciously. I made some progress when I introduced my elephant bag but I've a feeling he was just starting to pity me.
After the game the teachers all went home except Mr Tony who came to Cafe Mocha with us. We ended up chatting about the kids and he told us that he understands them because he went through the same hardships. It was really humbling to see how passionate he is about his work and to realise that the wage he gets paid every month (when he does get paid) is less than my weekly budget out here. The teachers start work at 6.30 and stay in school til 6pm. Mr Tony does tuition after school and doesnt get home til 9pm.
He wasnt looking for sympathy, he was just telling us in a matter of fact way what the realities of his life are. He sees all the stuff we don't: the kids who are too hungry to stay awake in class, the kids who come in with marks of abuse, the kids whose parents abandon them.He earns almost nothing and works himself to the bone because he genuinely loves them. We swan in for a couple of months, have a life changing experience and get applauded by our friends and family for our "sacrifice" while people like Mr Tony-and there are a lot of them-just quietly carry on devoting their entire lives to helping others. It's a privilege to get to work with people like him.

Mr Tony dancing with kindergarten.

Afterschool Adult Classes

Yesterday was the first day of our adult classes. The 5 of us arrived full of nervous enthusiasm bearing biscuits and juice to be met by an empty room. Allowing for the fact that 2pm in Kenyan time means "anytime between noon and sunset", we waited til 2.30 and were rewarded by the sight of one nervous student hovering in the doorway.
Our relief at seeing him must have been quite overwhelming, the poor guy sat on the plastic chair sipping his juice and smiling nervously as we beamed at him and tried desperately to remember our Swahili. It cant have been too bad though, he showed up again today-with 9 other people! They have a Kenyan teacher who does basic maths, literacy and English with them so we assumed we would be assisting her. Instead I ended up taking the weakest students with Connie (the bearer of potato gifts) and the others took the more able students.
It was quite daunting teaching adults, its a fine line between being clear and being condescending. It was also eerily quiet: no screams of pain or roars of "Madam, meeeee!" They were all so eager to learn but too shy to speak out loud. We did some basic addition and then an introduction to English greetings. My Swahili lessons came in handy, I was able to write everything in both languages which really helped. It also helped to break the ice: I pointed out that my Swahili is at the same level as their English so we can teach eachother. They were laughing at my clumsy mistakes and it seemed to make them less nervous about making their own.
The class was really cool, it really made me appreciate all those years of being stuck in a classroom. It must be so intimidating to try and get by in society when you can't add up your wages or read official letters, write a cv, read a newspaper...Makes you realise how much of your education you take for granted. The classes are going on every night for the next 3 weeks of Easter holidays, then once a week after that. I'm really excited about it but I'm not really sure where to start. Anyone with ideas or advice, please fire them this direction!

Computer class

The Cave.

I was first introduced to the wonders of the cave when Ceri asked me one Sunday, "Hey, wanna go to the cave and see the acrobats and fireaters?" Not being one to refuse an underground display of bendy pyromaniacs, I accompanied her.
We walked past the quarry and climbed down tiny stone steps into a cave straight from the Flintstones: huge overhanging rocks, prehistoric looking plants reaching up to the ceiling, tiny winding paths and cubby holes.

When we got there the djs had just set up their decks and the kids dance off was about to start. All the kids piled onto a stone stage and started shaking their bootie to highly inappropriate rap and reggae. Then the acrobats bounded onstage and performed ridiculously complicated bendy tricks followed by the lead acrobat eating fire and putting blazing torches down his trousers. All in all a decent show.

After the acrobats the kids broke out their dance moves again and we joined in, we danced for hours. I've been back almost every Sunday since, its amazing. It's a youth club for the young kids and teenagers in the village, the older acrobats train the younger ones to do their act so they have something to fill their time thats also feasibly a way of making money. The little boys are always training, they're almost as good as the adults now. It's really cool to see local projects helping eachother out.

Paddy's Day Kenyan Style.

I woke up to a potato in my bed courtesy of my roommate Connie, part of her ongoing plan to make restitution for the famine. Started the day by teaching my kids to speak Irish and encouraging them to chase the other Irish volunteer shouting "Conas a ta tu?!" We also sang Molly Malone and Istigh sa zu (complete with actions) then had a bit of confusion when my American teaching partner insisted on mentioning leprechauns. He drew quite a good picture on the board, then stood back beaming proudly as I fielded the questions-No they're not real, its just a story. No, Irish people dont steal gold from dwarfs. Im not sure who made it up, but I promise it really is just a story. Yes I know he shouldnt be smoking a pipe, it is terribly bad for your lungs, quite right Bonface.............Yanks. :)

We headed to Mombasa's Irish pub, Murphy's, which usually contains a handful of Kenyans and the occasional hopeful American. Tonight however, there was an actual Irish person! Spent a lot of time excitedly shouting the usual Just-met-a-fellow-Irishman-abroad lingo: "Where are ya from? Jays its a small world hah? What are ya havin?" He then proceeded to argue with my fellow volunteers that volunteering is ultimately pointless and stupid, quite enraging a number of them. I however was in the middle of  stealing a green felt fedora and was thus blissfully unaware of the drama as I busted my moves while miming to angry African rap.. I was also unaware of the camera, as evidenced by the stunning pic below.Twas a good night-it even rained. :)

I'm not sure what move this is...

Sex Education in Olives

•  About a month ago I had the pleasure of  teaching sex education to Standard 5, quite a daunting prospect given their propensity to ask awkward questions. The kids are between 11 and 15, but when we were discussing passing HIV through sexual intercourse one of the kids said "Please Madam, what is sex?" I thought for a minute he was messing with me, but he was deadly serious. I went home and looked at the science books section on sex. I found this gem: "Sexual intercourse outside of marraige causes AIDS.Avoid this temptation by joining a sports team, finding good friends, and staying away from discos." Thats it. Thats their sex ed.
  After much ranting and raving about the futility of trying to prevent AIDS in a country which refuses to admit the existence of sex, I sucked it up and planned my own sex ed class. I got through the first 15 minutes ok, but the room erupted into giggles at my attempt to draw an accurate (and perhaps overly detailed) penis. My co-teacher Ceri later informed me that some of the boys had gasped and questioned whether it was drawn to actual size! I got through conception, birth etc with relatively few upsets (Despite one boy paling at the mention of menstruation and later asking me"Does the mens bleeding too?!" Then I asked them to put any questions they were too shy to ask into a tin and said we would have a girls class and boys class to discuss them in.
  I cant begin to describe the weirdness of sitting 15 boys on the roots of a giant mango tree and asking them what they want to know about sex. My tendency to talk with my hands was a definite drawback: at one point I was explaining why a penis must be erect to enter the vagina and found myself poking a finger in and out of my fist. I explained (with a straight face and suspiciously brisk voice) why men cannot "get the pregnant from sexing in the anoose" why you wont impregnate your sister if she gets her period while sleeping next to you, and that it is not harmful for a man to not have sex every time he feels the urge.
  My straight face lasted until I was explaining to one particularly determined young man that "sexing a goat" is not a good solution to sexual frustration, even if it IS your goat. I rhapsodised at length about the differences between men and goats,and to finish, I gestured to a nearby goat to illustrate my point. The goat blinked at me calmly, then proceeded to enthusiastically fellate himself. I challenge anyone not to burst into fits of snorting wheezing laughter at that point.
  
  It was good though, especially talking to the girls. I had a few worrying questions about getting pregnant if you're 12, and we had a chance to talk about pressure from men and deciding for ourselves what happens to our bodies. A couple of girls thanked me profusely and came to me with more and more questions throughout the week. It was really encouraging, especially since I found out that some of the older, prettier girls in my class get paid to "go to discos." Im trying to accept that Im helpless to do anything about that, but at the very least I can make sure they have all the information. I do have to deal with the fact that they are now sex-fixated, the entire class has taken to drawing remarkably detailed diagrams of genitalia and asking how random animals "make the sex." I believe I have successfully perfected my straight face. :)

Teaching in Olives.

So the gist of it is, I'm volunteering with a charity called GVI who run long term projects in 2 schools, Olives Rehabilitation Centre and Precious Vision School. I'm in a house with 15 other volunteers from around the globe, we're currently representing Australia, America, Germany, Egypt, Norway, Kenya,England, Scotland-and myself as the sole representative of the Emerald Isle. Everyone is bitterly disappointed by my failure to exhibit any signs of latent alcoholism, but my ability to burn to a crisp within 5 minutes of direct sun exposure seems to reassure them of my right to claim Irish blood. I was very kindly presented with a potato on St Patrick's Day by an English volunteer seeking to make restitution for the famine. I accepted graciously on Ireland's behalf.

It's interesting living with such a big group of people, especially since it changes all the time. I'm here for 8 months and there are a few other long termers here, but we get new people every 2 weeks. It can suck when the nice ones go home (you know who you are! ) but because it's such a high turnover and we've such a wide age range, theres always cool newbies to drag out dancing or play Articulate with.

The teaching itself is brilliant, challenging but so rewarding. I'm teaching Standard 5 and Standard 1 in Olives with my teaching partner Ceri. Standard 5 are 11-16 years old, really bright and interesting. It can be hard to keep a straight face, they ask awkward questions on purpose to see how I'll react. "Do bees have vaginas?" was a particularly interesting one. Standard 1 is challenging in a totally different way: the kids are 6 and 7 and theres 39 of them in a tiny room, when they get overexcited it's impossible to calm them down. And they do get overexcited: they cheer when Ceri and I enter the room and applaud everything I write on the board with great enthusiasm. Apart from a tendency to eat pencils and deny their whereabouts, they're quite adoreable.

Standard 1 kids

Apart from the obvious challenges of teaching children who don't understand English in an overcrowded room with hardly any resources, theres also the added joy of blistering sunshine, oven-hot air, hoards of big, buzzing flies and dry red dust which settles in your lungs and coats your skin. There's always the rainy season to look forward to though-when the dust turns to mud and cakes on your legs and the flies are replaced by malarial mosquitoes. At least it gets cooler. :)

I've been here 3 months now and I still get moments where I stop and think " Woah, I'm in Africa." The children randomly bursting into song and drumming a beat on the desks that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, the random camels wandering the beach, the sudden fury of midnight thunderstorms-just when I think I've become blase about it, something will happen to remind me that I'm far from my comfort zone and I love it. Every day here is different, every day is challenging, sometimes frustrating, sometimes exhilerating. I'm where I want to be, doing what I want to do. Life is good. :)

PE with St 5

First Official Post: finally got this blogging business down.

Hey to all and sundry, cheers for coming to check out my blog. I've been meaning to get it up and going since I got here, but my computer literacy skills leave a lot to be desired. Finally worked it out though, I'll try and backdate all the stuff I've been meaning to post for the past 3 months. This is basically a cop out from sending constant Facebook emails to people who may or may not want to know what I'm doing-now you can choose! I'll try to update it regularly, theres so much happening here all the time, it's hard to find time to keep in contact with everyone. Any suggestions, fire ahead, hope it's as interesting to read as it is to experience.