Beldina & Sister Margaret at TICH 

Bernard my colleague in Accounting & Reverend Obondi from TICH 

My Kiswahili teacher, Edith 

What I'll Miss About Kisumu

I have lived in Kisumu for close to six months. As I prepare to depart for the last time I reflect on the things that I'll miss about the place:

- Walking to and from work and being greeted by several people along the way.
- Sunny, warm days. I can recall only a few days where I didn’t see the sun at some point.
- Riding and chatting with the boda boda drivers.
- Eating fresh fish from Lake Victoria.
- My small-talk with Douglas (the security guard at the house across the street from my home) He was always in good cheer and it was nice to know that he was watching out for me.
- Morning tea break at TICH. It was attended by all, staff and students.
- My twice weekly kiswahili lessons with Edith. I gave it a good try, although I still had a long way to go.
- My running route through the mlimani neighborhood (the wealthy part of town). It provided me with a few good hills plus nice glimpses of the lake. I won’t miss all of the funny looks I got.
- The group of young children living near my home who would often greet me at the end of the day, running from their yards to the street to shake my hand yelling big hellos. If I was returning from a run, after shaking hands they would run with me for a short stretch. A few of the older ones were really quick.
- Having lots of time to read and listen to music.
- Negotiating my way through cattle while walking on the side of road.
- All the really nice people I got to know at TICH.
- My electric fan.

As I reflect on this list I realize that while I’ve enjoyed my time here I’m not devastated about leaving. Kisumu was an interesting place to live and easy to adapt to, but it’s doubtful that I will ever return.

And Now For The News

During my spare time at home, while swatting at mosquitoes, I’ll often listen to BBC World Service on the radio. There is a good mix of news and various other stories of interest. Canada even gets mentioned from time to time and over the past few months I have heard the following stories:

1) The Canadian government’s winning by one its non-confidence vote in parliament.
2) The legalization of gay marriage.
3) The NHL players association accepting the labour contract.
4) A small tunnel from B.C. to Washington State for smuggling cannabis was uncovered.
5) The court-case in Iran pertaining to the murder of the Canadian-Iranian journalist.
6) Results from the World Swimming Championships in Montreal
7) The news that the actor who played “Scotty” on Star Trek died. I didn’t know that he was Canadian and that his Scottish accent was a fake.

In the Kenyan newspapers the only thing I can recall relating to Canada was a photo of Jack Nicklaus, leading up to the British Open, taken while playing the Skins Game at Whistler.

All in all, it doesn’t sound like I’ve missed too much.

My friend Douglas 

My Friend Douglas

Douglas is the security guard/yard boy for the house across the lane from where I live. He is 32 years-old and works from 7 a.m. to 7 p.m., seven days a week, except for those Sundays where he is given the afternoon off so that he can go to church. I don’t know what he earns, but I understand that such a job would be paid around $75 per month.

Douglas greets me when I’m going to work or returning home and is always in good spirits. He comes to the gate and we talk about the weather, my work, or I practice a few words of kiswahili. I haven’t even met the English couple who employs him. In the early days he would wish me a good day at work and tell me he loved me. I know he was speaking in his third language and that he didn’t mean it “that way,” but I never did get comfortable with it. Somehow he must have sensed this because I haven’t heard him say it for quite a while.

I don’t have too many things to unload before I depart from Kisumu, but one item that I’ve already given to Douglas is my bicycle (only ridden twice). I told him that he could sell it if he wanted, but he said that he would not sell a gift and that he wanted to keep it to remember me by. I didn’t offer him my ghetto blaster because I know that he doesn’t have electricity where he lives.

It didn’t occur to me to ask, but it turned out that Douglas didn’t know how to ride a bike. However, he proudly told me a few days ago that he had spent the previous Sunday afternoon (presumably after church) being taught by a friend and now he can ride with no problem. He is very pleased with the bike and most appreciative. I’m happy to have given it to him, but the best part to me is that he didn’t say he loved me.

Now What?

I now have just over 3 weeks to go at TICH. After that my plans are uncertain. I’ve been away from Canada for close to six months now, but I’m still enjoying the adventure. Also, I’m very much aware that my leave of absence from BC Hydro is a unique opportunity and that the next time I have a break this long I’ll likely be of an age more appropriate for bus tours to Reno.

I’m still interested in doing volunteer work overseas. There is a chance of getting a new VSO assignment in a different country. However, this will be difficult as most VSO postings are for two-year terms and I have to be back at my job at BC Hydro by no later than March 2007. VSO does have some one-year assignments, but not very many.

I also plan to contact Medicins Sans Frontiers (MSF-Doctors Without Borders) about getting back on their on-call list for financial controllers. I had previously gone through their screening process (I even had to write an exam…yes, I passed) and had just been put on their on-call list when I accepted the VSO offer to come to Kenya. With MSF even once you’re on their list there is still no guarantee of ever actually getting called. They have only about 70 controller positions world wide (half of them require French) so it comes down to the timing of their needs and who else is available. Support staff postings are usually for one year.

Therefore, while I do have a few possibilities I consider them to be long shots. Consequently, there is a good chance that my overseas adventure will come to a premature end. Assuming that a new opportunity doesn’t arise I will eventually make my way back to Canada, probably by October. After that who knows? I’m actually enjoying this state of uncertainty as it allows for all kinds of scenarios. I know that no one back in Canada will believe it, but the timing of my change in circumstances in Kenya and that of the settlement of the NHL labour dispute is purely coincidental. Really!

Even if something does come-up with VSO or MSF it would likely be several months before I would be required. So in the short term I’ll take the opportunity to do some more travelling in Africa. I’m currently looking at a journey that would include Uganda, Rwanda, Tanzania (Mount Kilimanjaro and Zanzibar) and the Kenyan coast. When having a mid-life crisis, one needs to be flexible.

Obstacles on my walk home from work 

The End of an Error

I’ve been in Kenya for five months now and haven’t written much about my work here at TICH (The Tropical Institute of Community Health and Development in Africa). That’s because there hasn’t been a whole lot to report. Since my arrival I’ve had very little to do and even what work I’ve had has been sporadic in nature. While this has given me lots of free time, which has benefited my studies in Kiswahili and reduced my stress level to its lowest point in 15 years, this isn’t why I came to Africa.

I have discussed my under-utilization at various times over the past few months with both Dan, the Director of TICH, Reverend Bonifice, the head of Finance & Administration at TICH, and Chris from VSO. The major reasons for my lack of work have been the delay in TICH receiving university accreditation from the Ministry of Higher education and the reduced scope of the institution’s planned expansion when the accreditation is received. Finally, on July 14^th, all three parties got together in the same room to review the situation. As their financial advisor my advice to TICH was that they did not require my financial advice; at least not on a full-time basis.

As has often been the case, TICH didn’t want to take my advice. I was a bit surprised by this because going into the meeting I had thought that we are all on the same page. While they acknowledged that the job I came to do was for the most part not there, they did feel that there were other things that I could help with. It was nice that they appreciated the contributions I have made and wanted me to stay, but I was hoping that they would make it easy for me by agreeing that I was no longer required.

My assessment of the situation was that there was no more than a part-time role for me. TICH was okay with this, but it wasn’t viable from VSO’s perspective due to difficulties in finding other part-time placements and working visa issues. The meeting ended with the situation fully discussed and various alternatives explored, but nothing decided. The ball was in my court; it was my decision to stay at TICH or resign.

I have really appreciated how nice the people at TICH have been and didn’t want to let them down. Also, although I’ve successfully battled the monster before, I still had to fight with that imbedded ethic of not quitting something that you’ve started. However, I’ve also learned that there comes a time when you have to cut your losses. In the end, my fate has probably been apparent since not long after I arrived here. I submitted my resignation and gave one month’s notice. My placement with TICH will end on August 15^th.

Looking back at my initial decision to come to TICH rather than one of the other placements VSO offered, I would probably still make the same choice given the facts that were presented. I don’t fault VSO with the way things turned-out because I feel that they did the best they could with the information provided. While I am disappointed that TICH wasn’t totally transparent about their needs I can understand why they behaved this way. Like most organizations and individuals in Kenya they are desperate for any resource that they can get their hands on.

Although I’m feeling some disappointment and guilt, I’m also relieved that this has finally been resolved. I’m glad I had the opportunity to spend this time at TICH and it was an interesting experience. However, at the end of the day the job I came to do did not exist and there was no significant new role to take its place. One of the reasons why I came to Africa was to try to make a meaningful work contribution and I feel that this would not be achieved this at TICH. To have given them six months is acceptable, but not two years. It’s time to move on and with that I have no regrets.

Views from Mt Kenya

Lodge at the foot of Mt Kenya and at the Equator

On top of Point Lenana, Mount Kenya 

Mount Kenya - If its an assault then why do I feel battered?

We didn’t actually hike to the top of Mount Kenya at 5,199 metres above sea level. In order to reach the top of Africa’s second highest mountain you need to be a climber, use ropes and know what you’re doing. Instead, we reached the third highest peak, Point Lenana, which at 4,895 metres elevation is just slightly lower and provides great views. Putting these elevations into perspective, my previous highs were hiking in Nepal at 4,000 metres and driving over a pass in a minibus in Tibet at 5,200 metres. As far as I was concerned Point Lenana was high enough.

Another point of clarification - Although our Mount Kenya quest was a 5-day package we actually only hiked for the middle three days. Days 1 and 5 were spent in transit between the Nairobi and Mount Kenya National Park. As it turned out, the amount of hiking that we did over the middle 3 days would be more than sufficient.

Joining me on this expedition was my Dutch VSO friend Frank and his visiting girlfriend Ank. Support was provided by our guide Kambo (who’s business card slogan was “Its not over until we win”), our cook Monkey (he apparently got his nickname because his older brother, a former porter, was also named Monkey) and a nameless porter. We were told that in order to pronounce the porter’s name we would first need to learn to speak Kikuyu. I suspected that he lived in fear of being tagged with a name like Monkey. I referred to him as “the porter to be named later,” which was amusing to one-on but myself.

The morning that we started for Point Lenana from Shipton’s Camp began with a 2:30 a.m. wake-up call. (Note to file - I’ve got to find a pastime that doesn’t involve early starts.) It wasn’t hard to get-up because most of us hadn’t been able to sleep as we were coping with the adjustment of being at 4,200 metres plus the noise of others staying in the bunkhouse. Our hike started with 3 hours on a steep and slippery climb, mostly in darkness. I think it was the first time I had used my headlight for a reason other than finding an outhouse. The climb was definitely a slog, but we made it to the top in time for the first sight of the sun.

Before going on this expedition I had told my Kenyan work colleagues that as a Canadian I was really looking forward to being cold again. With a biting wind assaulting us on top of Point Lenana any nostalgia quickly disappeared. We had hiked for 3 days and were greeted with spectacular views. However, after about 15 minutes on top we had had enough of being really cold so we began our descent. We didn’t know it at the time, but our day of hiking wouldn’t be over until 4:00 p.m. Counting breaks it would be a 13 hour hike, involving elevation gains of 1,000 metres and drops of 2,000 metres. Yes, we were pretty tired by the end of the day.

That night we had the option to upgrade from tents to bandas (cabins) which came with a hot shower and a fireplace. We had no problem reaching a consensus. That evening we sat around the fire talking with Kambo about life as a guide (the first question he has when assigned a group is what their nationality is – Israelis have the worst reputation as they can complain so much you might get fired). The next day we had the option of hiking 32km on a dirt road to the nearest town or hiring a Landcruiser to come and get us. Our decision was very popular with our support crew.

After Mount Kenya we had one last night in Nairobi. Frank, Ank and myself joined fellow VSOers Astrid, Tom and Heidi for drinks and dinner. I first met Frank, Tom and Heidi back in January at pre-departure training in England. It was interesting to swap stories and hear about their great experiences and the challenges all are facing. The next day I was on the bus returning home to Kisumu. It had been a good holiday.

Kelvin's brother Keith; not quite as wild looking as the Maasai. 

Kelvin’s Brother Keith

Kelvin from BC Hydro is one of the nicest people in the world. For a while I had even thought that he might be the nicest; but then I met his brother Keith in Nairobi. Now I think there may be a tie. (Kelvin, if you’re reading this please don’t be embarrassed; besides, shouldn’t you be busy optimizing or something?)

Keith works for the MAF – Mission Aviation Fellowship. He and his wife Rosie and their three children have lived in Africa for close to twenty years, first in Ethiopia and now in Kenya. I had a few extra days in Nairobi between my wildlife safari and Mount Kenya hike and was able to spend a pleasant Sunday afternoon at their home.

It’s not hard to notice the family resemblance between Kelvin and Keith, both in terms of appearance and personality. Some of Keith’s mannerisms were so similar to Kelvin’s that I was ready to start quizzing him on his latest hedging strategy. I also wondered to myself whether Keith, like his brother, would struggle to select a half-decent hockey pool team.

We got off to a bit of an awkward start when Keith initially assumed that since I was from BC Hydro I must be an engineer. Ouch! It may not be cool to be an accountant, but thanks to engineers we know it could have been worse. Any ways, Keith quickly made up for it by asking me if it would be okay if we had pizza for lunch. This was followed later by coffee and muffins. If they hadn’t stop putting food in front of me I would probably still be there.

Keith is a keen hiker and mountain climber and had lots of good stories, photos and advice relating to Mount Kenya. His enthusiasm was contagious. He also kindly leant me enough warm weather clothing for an assault on the North Pole. For me, being in a strange city in a foreign country it was really nice to spend an afternoon where I was made to feel at home.

Migrating elephant at Amboseli National Park (before he tried to attack us) 

The Maasai and Me 

The Clouds of Kilimanjaro

My friend Craig from Oyama (allegedly situated in the centre of the universe - go ahead, check it on a map) likes to drive in his old Cutlas convertible on seemingly aimless trips. Sometimes there is an intended destination; other times not. The enjoyment for Craig (and hopefully for any captive passengers) is the journey itself and the unknown potential for what may be seen. I’ve been on several trips like this with Craig, but I wasn’t aware that there was a name for it. In Africa I’ve learned that it’s a very popular activity. It’s called a Safari.

Safari is in fact a Swahili word meaning ‘journey.’ I spent one week in June on safari travelling to three Kenyan national parks: Masai Mara, Lake Nakuru and Amboseli. In addition to our guide Bernard, our group consisted of an American math professor (for 3 days), an IBM employee from China and me the accountant. We were on a geek safari and not surprisingly we got on depressingly well. Standing in our ancient, convertible Land Cruiser we drove for countless miles and saw all kinds of wildlife, scenery and really bad roads. Rather than provide a day-by-day account of our activities (and bore us all to death) I’ll describe a few highlights.

We saw several Lions in the Masai Mara National Reserve. Or at least we saw the same handful of Lions on a number of different occasions. For the most part we watched them sleeping. They are so accustomed to tourist vehicles that we could pull-up beside them in a grassy field and watch them nap. Once one of them even moved right beside a vehicle in order to enjoy the shade it provided. It was hard to think of these big, lazy cats as being vicious killers. Then again, I know how I get when I’m hungry.

We spooked a herd of elephants one morning while in the Masai Mara. There were about 10 of them and as they weren’t happy with our presence so started to run off. It actually looked more like a jog but given my current level of fitness I shouldn’t be critical. Their intended route happened to parallel our road so we were able to track their progress and listen to the males trumpeting. At one point one of them moved on to the road and trailed behind us. Our guide would later tell another that we were being chased. This was a bit of an exaggeration but it sounded cool so we all nodded and smiled.

I met some nice medical students from England one evening at our safari camp. As so often seems to happen when around medical students the conversation eventually turned to cadavers. Interestingly, they all agreed that while they wouldn’t hesitate to donate body organs upon their death none of them would give their bodies to be used by medical students.

At Amboseli National Park we camped in the shadow of Mount Kilimanjaro. Or more accurately, we camped in the shadow of the clouds of Kilimanjaro. We eventually did get glimpses of the mountain and it looked quite impressive towering above the plains. While the Masai Mara was reminiscent of the foothills of Alberta the landscape around Amboseli was more like Cache Creek. However, a swamp in its centre attracted a large number of wildlife in quite a small area, especially elephants. The viewing was easy because with the low vegetation there was nowhere for them to hide.

After seeing approximately 200 elephants (not counting repeat sightings) we made our way out of Amboseli. Driving across this plain (it’s identified as a lake on the map; but unless its the rainy season its barren) we came across a family of 16 elephants migrating to a better source of food. We stopped our vehicle a safe distance back and watched as they crossed our road. All was moving in an orderly fashion until the male at the end of the procession crossed the road. Rather than continuing on he turned in our direction and took a good look at us. Bernard didn’t waste any time in swerving the vehicle off the road and out of the range of the charging male. This time there was no question as to whether or not we were being chased.

By the sixth day of the trip I realized that I was wearing my ball hat not so much because of the sun (as it was often cloudy), but to avoid the embarrassment of ‘safari hair.’

For the record, not counting birds or varmint, I saw the following wildlife in varying numbers during my safari: Lions, elephants, hippos, rhinos, jakals, hyenas, zebras, warthogs, giraffe, elands, buffalo, antelope, wildebeest (loads of them as they were gearing-up for their big migration north), hartebeest, topis, gazelles, impalas, dik-diks and pink flamingos (I know that they’re a bird, but there were so darn many of them).

Amazingly, after one week on safari I wasn’t tired of the adventure. I was satisfied that I had seen pretty much all of the wildlife that I wanted and was able to cover a fair section of Kenya. However, I was still enjoying driving around with the top off our vehicle wondering what new sightings the day would bring. Obviously, my rides with Craig in his Cutlas had prepared me well.