Cash is King

Cash is King and at times at TICH it seems like the ruler has abdicated. Consequently, I quickly learned to stay away from dealing with the public. Inevitably, it’s someone looking to get paid. They do, eventually, just not very quickly (unless the creditor is capable of turning of the power, etc.) The following are some of the standard responses my colleagues use when people are looking for their cheque:

§ The cheque is with the Director for signature. The Director is not here today.
§ The cheque is with the Bishop for second signature. The Bishop is not here today.
§ There was a mistake on your invoice. Could you please submit a new one.
§ The accountant is not here today. Come back tomorrow.

Otherwise, I’ve got an exciting month planned for June. My holiday schedule is as follows:

§ June 1st to 5th – 5 day trip to Uganda. My itinerary is still to be determined, but hopefully it will include river rafting on the Nile River.
§ June 18 – travel to Nairobi
§ June 19th to 25th – 7 day camping safari to the Masai Mara, Lake Nakuru and Amboseli National Parks.
§ June 26th to 27th – relax in Nairobi
§ June 28th to July 2nd – 5 day Mount Kenya hike
§ July 3rd – return home to Kisumu

Stay tuned for stories on these adventures.

View of Kerio Valley from the village of Iten (no runners in site) 

Where the Runners Roam

Kenya is renown for its distance runners. It seems as though Kenyans are among the top finishers in every major marathon in the world. It’s a big deal in the national media and there are regularly reports on their athletes’ exploits (although English soccer seems to have a greater following). Given this notoriety, I have been somewhat baffled by the fact that I have yet to see anyone in Kisumu actually running. Thus, this past weekend I set off for Eldoret in pursuit of the mythical Kenyan runner.

Many Kenyan athletes are members of the Kalenjin tribe which comes from the western edge of the central Rift Valley area. Based on a tip from I fellow I met on the bus to Eldoret, I visited the village of Iten, which boasts a spectacular view of the Kerio Valley and is supposedly home to several top runners. The scenery was worth the journey and I had a nice talk with William, the young guy who sells pop at the viewpoint. He confirmed that runners do live in the village, but the only one that I saw was another mzungu. When he walked by he didn’t say hello, but just grunted. From the accent of his grunt I would guess that he was eastern European. William told me that the mzungu has been in Iten for 2 months and always acts that way, providing additional support to my theory.

Back in Eldoret I visited Kipchoge Keino Stadium. I had understood this to be a popular training location for track athletes. There seemed to be quite a gathering at the stadium so I was hopeful of finding something. As I approached a young fellow walking in the other direction said to me: “Hello friend, are you coming to see Jesus?” Gee, I didn’t know he was a runner, thought I. When I entered the stadium it what obvious that this was not a sporting event but a religious rally. Signs of “Kenya Repent” were hanging on fences and people were in the stands and on the field singing along with the hymns.

I wandered around the track looking for evidence of the foot imprints of runners. A security fellow rushed towards me and I thought I was going to get kicked out. Instead, I had to politely and firmly decline his invitation to join the festivities. One fellow welcomed me and happily stated “we are all sinners.” I wondered what sins would cause him to be so happy. He asked me if I was a Christian and I said yes. He asked me if I was born again and I responded that no, I was just born this way. He said that if you are born twice you die only once, but if you are born once you die twice. I pointed out that after I die once it really doesn’t matter to me what happens after that. Fortunately, this fellow seemed to have a sense of humour.

Eldoret is a fairly large town, just a bit smaller and a lot muddier than Kisumu. However, during my time there I didn’t see any runners. My theory is that only about 100 Kenyans run in the whole country and they’re all world class calibre. If they’re not really fast they just don’t bother. I returned to Kisumu on Sunday morning and as my ride passed through one of the villages above Eldoret I finally saw one. There along the side of the road was a Kenyan out for his Sunday run. They aren’t a myth after all.

Homa Bay on Lake Victoria and Frank at home in Ndhiwa

Out for a walk in Ndhiwa 

My Weekend in Ndhiwa

This past weekend I travelled to a more remote region of western Kenya to visit a VSO colleague, Frank, at his placement in the village of Ndhiwa. Its located only about 100 km from Kisumu, but the most direct road is in terrible condition so a longer but faster route is taken, instead. The trip took about 4 hours.

Frank requested that I bring a number of grocery items that he can’t get in his village. Therefore, I was loaded up with such goodies as beer, brandy, chocolate bars, pringles chips, and brown bread. Frank also had me bring gouda cheese and when he saw that it was actually imported from Holland it was the closest I’ve been to seeing an emotional Dutch male. At the end of the weekend I didn’t ask Frank to pay for these treats as he had proven to be a wonderful host plus I had pretty much consumed half of what I had brought.

Frank has a very challenging posting in Ndhiwa. He is an administrator for an organization that operates a small hospital and a half-dozen schools in the region. Although he didn’t know this when he accepted the placement, he is basically the man in charge, reporting to a board of directors back in England. The region that he lives in has one of the worst HIV/AIDs infection rates in the country (40% of adults, I’m told) which obviously has direct implications on his work. Frank also has to deal the challenges of being in a remote village, with few amenities and being the only westerner in town.

Of course, there are some upsides to Frank’s situation. Being the only mzungu in the village he has attained true celebrity status. Our walks were often delayed by people he knew, or didn’t know, who wanted to speak to us. Recently, a baby born in his hospital was named after him; apparently the region’s first ever Frank. Even Frank’s home is very nice, although it does lack electricity and running water. His greatest luxury is having a lady who cooks and cleans for him.

We didn’t do too much during my stay there. We walked through the village and stopped for a leisurely Coke at one of the shops. We hiked out to visit his hospital and sat on its rear deck which has been partially adopted as Frank’s office. We spent a lot of time on his home’s back porch admiring the garden until nightfall and then watching the distant lightening storms. We were able to talk about our placement situations, potential travelling opportunities, and standard guy stuff, like sports and university days. As we sat there with our drinks it felt a bit like being at the trailer by the lake in Oyama, BC.

All in all, it was a very pleasant and relaxing visit. It was interesting to compare and contrast Frank’s situation to mine and there’s no doubt that he is living more of the third world development experience that I had envisioned. However, I recognize that he is under a lot of stress, lives in isolation and has little support. When my matatu returned to Kisumu on Sunday afternoon and dropped my off do some shopping at the Nakumat I was content to be home.

A Christian group out for a Sunday march. You never know what you might come across when going for a walk. 

Learning Swahili

When I first signed-up for my overseas adventure I expected that one of my greatest challenges would be learning a new language. As it’s turned out, a language barrier has been virtually a non-issue. Although there are several languages spoken in Kenya, the country’s official language is English. At TICH, all meetings and formal correspondence are in English and casual conversations are usually in Luo (the tribal language for the Lake Victoria region). Around Kisumu most people seem to be tri-lingual, speaking English, Luo and Swahili. Consequently, it’s quite easy for me to function here speaking only English.

While this has simplified my adjustment to Kenya, I still wanted to try to learn a bit of another language. After all, I have unprecedented spare time, a lack of other distractions (i.e. television, social life, and hobbies) and plenty of opportunities to learn and practice. Although I hear Luo spoken the most, I chose to concentrate on Swahili. I couldn’t find any Luo learning resources (I was told that anyone who wanted to learn the language already knows how) plus Swahili is spoken throughout Kenya, Tanzania and Uganda. Also, although a third language for most of the locals they are still happy to let me practice on them. Therefore, based on a few hours of introductory language lessons received in Nairobi in February and a language book I have started to learn Swahili.

Comedian Steve Martin once exclaimed in exasperation, “Those French, they have a different word for just about everything.” Well, the same is true for Swahili. In trying to learn I first had to overcome some dark flashbacks from three years of studying French in junior high (I’m sure that this would please Mrs Meehan and Miss Levesque). However, having developed a few additional study habits since then I figured that I shouldn’t let pass failures (or bare passes) limit me. Plus, now I have an open-air classroom in which to learn and practice.

I’m now about half way through my language book. While I’ve learned a great deal I still have a long ways to go. Its amazing what I can remember when I focus on things other than the trivial. After all, if I can remember that Joe Zanussi was part of the trade that sent Phil Esposito and Carol Vadnais to the Rangers for Jean Ratelle and Brad Park almost 30 years ago I should be able to utilize my memory for other purposes. However, I wouldn’t say for more useful purposes as you never know when recalling that deal may come in handy.

The people here really enjoy it when I attempt to speak Swahili. Even when I tell the boda boda drivers that “silipi bei mzungu” (I won’t pay the white person price) we both have a good laugh and I end-up paying somewhere in between the local and the mzungu prices. I seem to have a lot of words floating around in my head, but I’m still finding it difficult to put together sentences. Also, I’m finding that I’m forgetting some words that I had memorized a few weeks ago because I’m not using them. Finally, my comprehension of Swahili being spoken is virtually non-existent.

I may never learn Swahili but I’m determined to give it a good shot. I’ve recently hired a woman to tutor me twice a week. I wasn’t able to find a proper language teacher but Edith’s English and Swahili are both good (or so I’m told) and we’re using my language book to provide some structure to my lessons. I’ve also just purchased a radio so that I can hear the language spoken more regularly. So far I’ve been warming-up listening to BBC but I promise to cross over to the stations speaking Swahili. Walter at work told me that the best way to learn the language would be to get a girlfriend. My response was that I preferred a radio because a radio could be turned-off. Walter quite liked that rationale.

The Tropical Institute of Community Health & Development in Africa (TICH) 

I buy my banannas and oranges from Pamela on my way home from work. 

A Very Busy Week at TICH

Life at TICH (The Tropical Institute of Community Health & Development in Africa, in case you have forgotten) has been pretty relaxed since I arrived in late February. There have been few students around and people quietly work at whatever it is they do. It has reminded me of an old “Yes, Minister” episode (a British TV comedy) where upon inspecting a new hospital the Minister discovers that due to budget cuts that only the Administration department is operational. TICH has had a bit of that feel to it. However, a few weeks ago things started to pick-up noticeably. Facilities were being fixed, supplies acquired, meetings held and rocks painted white (just the big ones). Over a 10-day period there would be the 4th Annual TICH Scientific Conference, the TICH AGM and Board of Directors meetings, and the Graduation Ceremony.

The conference was quite impressive. The theme was “linking research to policy for evidence-based action towards the realization of the millenium development goals.” With a theme like that how could they go wrong? I apologize in advance if this comes across as preaching, but for those of us who didn’t know the millunium development goals are:
1. Eradicate extreme poverty and hunger
2. Achieve universal primary education
3. Promote gender equity and empower women
4. Reduce child mortality
5. Improve maternal health
6. Combat HIV/AIDs, malaria and other diseases
7. Ensure environmental sustainability
8. Develop a global partnership to development

People from 17 countries attended the conference, most of them academics, consultants or practitioners working in one or more of the above areas. In addition to these specialists, there was a large contingent from the local villages that partner with TICH. There were also special appearances, including the ambassador from Israel (he actually didn’t come to the conference, but to open an entrepreneurial course being put on under their sponsorship) and a Government Assistant Cabinet Minister (he turned-up twice). I didn’t have any duties at the conference so was able to listen to most of the speakers. It was a lot to take in, but I learned a lot from some very impressive people. Besides, it sure beats accounting.

While the calibre of speakers and the organization for the most part were excellent, it wouldn’t be Kenya without a few comical gliches. On the start of the first day, following prayers, it was identified that the first speaker had not yet arrived. The moderator started calling names out from the morning’s agenda in hopes of finding someone to get things started. Finally, he joked “well, next on the agenda is lunch.”

By the end of the three-day conference I had pretty much had my fill of listening to people talk. I skipped the AGM but did have a chance for a long chat with the auditor. This confirmed that I’m not the only one who thinks that TICH has some issues. Unfortunately, the Director doesn’t as when I discussed the cash-flow status with him this week he dismissed my concerns stating that things were even worse two years ago. Anyways, I thought that skipping the AGM and resting-up would give me the endurance to sit through the graduation ceremony on Tuesday. I was wrong.

The grad was for two groups: 20 Masters students (TICH is affiliated with the Great Lakes University in Goma, Democratic Repulic of the Congo) and about 80 Community Health workers from the surrounding villages. Having attended a few grads over the years (just to confirm that I really did pass) I know that I get pretty restless at these things (actually, I get pretty restless at a lot of things). There was little doubt that such an event in Kenya would be long and drawn-out so I had already developed an escape strategy.

I was fashionably late for the ceremony, but found that they were just getting warmed-up on the religious component. After a couple of prayers, one hymn, and identifying that there were enough Bishops in attendance to start a chess game, I made a run for it. I then had a very productive day in town. I went to the library to return and pick-up some books (including a David Livingstone biography – checked out 8 times since 1981; this being its first withdrawal since January 1990), walked through the market, had my first haircut in three months (that attracted a crowd), went for lunch, and then caught a boda boda to the Sunset Hotel to pick-up a few novels that a Scottish professor had left for me. Eventually, I returned to the ceremony. It was about 3 hours later and the degrees and diplomas had already been distributed, but I was able to catch the last couple of prayers. All in all, quite an enjoyable event.