Kenyans are a beautiful people; many are always smiling and most very friendly. And the people we've met might be the perfect clue-in to the times/experiences we've had so far, so we'll start there.
After many hours of flying, we arrived in Nairobi and were taken to our stay for the next couple days. Here, we met Daniel, the manager at Gracia Gardens who is of the Masai tribe, a community known for their warriors. Daniel is great: extremely hospitable and eager to answer our questions, including those of what traditional dancing looks like, how traditional clothes are worn, if we can have yet another bottle of water. He's clever and kind and is helping me learn Swahili one phrase at a time.
Then, we were off to the Nairobi National Museum where we had an incredible tour guide named Edna. She knew much and was passionate about her country and culture. We learned that each of the 47 communities of Kenya use gourds, though most in different ways; they are very proud of their independence gained from the British in 1963; they value very highly an appearance of strength and importance in society; there are serious rites of passage from childhood into adulthood, including historically killing a lion and presently living outdoors for an entire year for a certain tribe. But the most interesting and moving thing for me was hearing her talk about women. In many Kenyan tribes, even presently, both males and females are circumcised.
Why the women? This is called female genital mutilation (FGM) and is extremely harmful and makes disease carrying more prevalent. So why? They circumcise the females prior to marriage in order to discourage immorality as it makes intercourse unpleasant. This to me seems counteractive - wouldn't a woman then be promiscuous in the time she could enjoy it before marriage? Might a woman's lack of desire lead the man to find someone who would appreciate obliging him? So, my thought, as quite the strong-willed independent woman that I am, just don't get married. So I asked her. But a single woman is essentially identified as a prostitute. As the logic goes, she must fulfill her sexual desire, so she will be using and dumping men as she pleases to do this and maintain her independence.Women can get an education, but there's still a long way to go. And something fascinating - sitting on the plane there were two families sitting next to me with an African wife and a Caucasian/European husband. Always the African seemed to be the wife in these interracial marriages. Why? I think it comes down to one main thing: they will gain respect from these non-African husbands they could otherwise kiss goodbye.
We then took a trip to the Giraffe center to kiss some giraffes ( ;) ). And yes, I got a smooch. :)
Then, today (Thursday), we went back onto "American soil" to the embassy. Here we were briefed by a cultural affairs officer, who goes around to different parts of the country, promoting going to universities in the United States and promoting the public opinion of the US. Then by the politics official who knows all political occurrences and things of importance in Kenya and then reports back to the US on the status of human rights, of civil unrest, of the International Criminal Court trials of their president and other leaders. Then by the economics official who told us the top contributors to the economy are tea, coffee, cattle, and flower exports among other things regarding the agricultural model in Kenya and how jobs are promoted to try to make a dent in the 50% unemployment rate. Then by the USAID telling us about the efforts to bring better quality of health and more access to water to provide better sanitation and hygiene. And finally by a security official who told us that Kenya may not be safe, but that we should just be cautious as petty crimes are more common than terrorist actions and that the US is committed to keeping US citizens informed.
This afternoon, we spent some time simply enjoying the fact that we were in Kenya together as a Calvin group. We ate a relaxed, extended lunch at a Kenyan restaurant where most of us tried duck, then continued on to Rosslyn Academy, a common boarding school for people and often missionaries all over Africa to send their children. A game of soccer arose and was extremely enjoyable, even under the hot, African sun.
And as a final adventure for the day, we headed to the Masai Market. First, let me say, this was extremely overwhelming for me. The moment we entered the open market, people flocked to us, pulling us this way and that. "Sister, let me show you my shop. Isn't this nice?" And it was nice; the crafts were beautiful, jewelry intricate, fabrics unique. But there's no hiding that we're Americans - especially this blonde haired, blue eyed girl. We tried to bargain for long skirts, but realizing we were Americans who they seem to believe have endless amounts of money flowing from our pockets, they wanted more from us than we from them. We met this lovely group of people, who talked and laughed with us. Upon finding out that we were from America, one man asked me to breathe, just so he could take up what he must have thought was rich, lucky air. I did as he asked, but felt incredibly ashamed that this was the view of America and could not leave it at that. So, I asked him to do the same for me, and I breathed in his Kenyan air - no different than my American. Yet, there was still an air that we were rich. When bargaining, they first asked for almost $1000 for two skirts. We lowered it to about $16; though they begged and told us they were fine skirts, we had offered them all we had brought along with us. I felt so guilty, even though I know this is exactly what you're not supposed to do with bartering. But I have money, they don't, even if I might not have all they ask. These people are desperate, have lives and families. I just wanted to know their stories, hear where they came from, and at that moment, my compassion was too great for heavy bargaining. I walked up to one lady later, and simply asked her questions, ignoring the fact that she was probably just humoring me to try to reel me in. There were venders everywhere, all begging, "Sister, come look at this!" and I wanted to listen to all of them and affirm that their goods were beautiful and worth more than I could give. How do I balance this? I'm still trying to wrestle through.
And there have been so many questions. This Calvin group has been great to discuss things with, bounce ideas off of, share concerns and aspirations with. We keep coming back to questions.
How beneficial has a Western influence been to Africa? Where do you draw the line to preserve their traditions, culture, heritage? How do the Kenyans view this influence? What can we do?I am thankful to have the Lord as my guide to asking and seeking answers to these hard question, and to have him as my rock when I just am fed up and don't understand. These questions will continue to arise, especially as we continue on tomorrow to a rural area to be with the Samburu tribe. I would ask that you think of me, pray for clarity and good conversation.
Kenya is a beautiful place, rich with culture and the laughter of its people, amidst my Western-minded complications. It's eye-opening, it's humbling, it's thought provoking. And all in all, so far this has been an incredible trip - and I think it'll only get better. Asking questions is so good, and there are many more I have to ask.
Have I had a ton of jet lag? Moderate. Have I had a ton of culture shock? Nothing extreme. Have I had a ton of good conversation, fun, and laughter? Definitely.
Until later, HAKUNA MATATA.
What a fun image imagining people flocking to you and your American group in the marketplace. Rock stars! And such a clever response to the man who wanted to breath your rich, lucky air.
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