A Christmas Miracle

It is always hectic around Christmas time, no need to remind anyone of that. I have a remarkably weird mailman even by today’s standards. He rings my bell incessantly sometimes even though he knows the door is open and then other times he just doesn’t deliver at all. He takes pleasure in hiding important bills and letters in the junk mail though I have asked him not to. It’s always dicey at Christmas.

It was the day before I left for the Motherland. In my business where I actually earn money, this is a difficult time for people. I am borrowing from another person in calling them the Hellidays, but alas for many, family, lousy economy, traveling, breakups, failed marriages ad in finitum fill my time before I leave. I was seeing someone with a particularly difficult situation when the bell rings at my door. And it rings and rings and rings. I try not to answer but John (the mailman) is insistent and since he’s always quite close to the edge I figured he was having a worse meltdown than what was happening in my office. Grudgingly I got up, apologized to the client and went to the door.

Low and behold he hands me two brown packets from Kenya. Since one can neither register, insure, nor have delivery confirmation on anything to and from Kenya, I did not see the urgency in my answering the door; John did. He wanted to be sure I got them and advised me to be careful since there were terrorists over there.
I returned to my patient client (and by that I mean she’s really patient to tolerate such an interruption) and we found a way to succeed for her on Christmas. I then turned my attention to the packets. Could it be??? Could the schools really have sent me their reports on time? Well yes and no.

Malanga, the flagship and Manyole, the one on probation indeed sent me most of their reports in orderly fashion, and Mabunge who I decided to cut loose only sent a letter asking to be reinstated and no reports. My assessment of the schools was correct, but the miracle is that I got the reports on time and that we are back to feeding several hundred children despite the dismal economy here and in Nambale.

It’s New Year’s Eve. My grandson is sound asleep upstairs. The city is quietly blanketed with fluffy white stuff and I; I’m quietly optimistic about the New Year. I know we elected the right man for the job and I know we are doing the right thing in Nambale; I even think by next year we shall be able to add a new school or a new village. I’m not unhappy about 2008; we needed every minute to get to now. And that my friends is a true Christmas Miracle.

Stop the Presses Literally

While many fault our news media (especially Bill O'Reilly and Rusch Limbaugh) for being mean to our politicians, at least they get to be mean and one-sided. As for me, I love my journalism slanted towards the left and am a great devotee of Keith Oberman, others can always choose Fox news for the opposing view.

Kenya, however, has gone to the extreme. Last year at this time, when elections loomed large and killing was wrapped under the Chrismas tree, there were hints of what was to come. Indeed when full scale rioting and killing did occur Kibeki shut down the presses and News Networks for over a month. It was astounding to watch and the world did weigh in.

They're at it again and no one seems to be watching. The bill brought before Parliment is amazing for what is called a democracy. The government wants to decide what the news can and can't report under the guise of preserving the peace in the country. The MP's are particularly touchy about being criticized for not paying their taxes while reaping huge salaries and living in the best part of Nairobi. However no one can report it better than a newspaper that hasn't quite been shut down. So without further ado from The Standard Newspaper 17 December 2008

Call for caution

As legislators celebrated last week’s passing of the draconian law against the media and called for additional measures, Raila, Mutula Dr Simiyu Eseli (Kimilili, Ford-Kenya) and Nyong’o called for caution against Press censorship.

Assistant Minister Danson Mungatana opened the tirade against when he accused the media of plotting to bring down Parliament and influence President Kibaki not to assent to the Bill. He asked Speaker Kenneth Marende to censure the Press over the coverage of the passing of the Bill.

"The President must sign that Bill," Mr Mungatana thundered, and accused MPs opposed to the Bill of "playing to the gallery".

He claimed that besides attempting to gag Parliament, the Press was trying to incite public disaffection over MPs’ refusal to pay taxes on their hefty allowances.

"There is a serious campaign against this Parliament by the local media and internationally over the Kenya Communications (Amendment) Bill," Mungatana said.

He claimed that the Press was inciting international hatred against the Tenth Parliament.

Assistant Minister David Musila accused US Ambassador Michael Ranneberger and his German counterpart Walter Lindner of "meddling in the affairs of this country and Parliament for questioning why we passed that Bill".

He asked Mr Marende "to stop them (envoys) from meddling in the affairs of the nation" and restrain the media for "purporting to fight for freedom".

But Raila cautioned MPs against reintroducing "the dark days of dictatorship" and said Parliament, however aggrieved, cannot wish away the pivotal role of a free Press in a democracy.

Raila said although Parliament is the supreme authority of the land, respect for "the Fourth Estate is equally important and must be respected. We have come a long way from the day of dictatorship when most people could not dare to address a Press conference, when torture was the order of the day".

He said any law that threatened Press freedom was an assault on democracy "that we fought so hard to bring. Any attempt to gag the Press needs to be resisted strongly".

Seeking publicity

But Uhuru, who is also a Deputy Prime Minister, accused the PM and opponents of the Bill of "seeking publicity and pursuing personal political agendas" and asked Marende to censure the media and "restore the rule of law in this country and supremacy of Parliament in this land".

Eseli said although the media have been censured for fanning violence early this year, reforming the Press must not be counterproductive.

"What shall we do with the media? As we try to reform the media, let us not try and gag them because they are also our mouthpiece," he said.

Nyong’o urged members to isolate emotions from the process of reforming the media and debate over their taxation. He said Parliament’s supremacy must not be turned into a clichÈ to evade legitimate censure of the legislature.

He said: "Let us isolate this problem from other issues and deal with it (Bill) rather than hang the Press and hang ourselves.

"After we have restored democracy, there should be no attempt to travel one step backwards," he said.

Mutula said although Parliament is the supreme legislative authority, it cannot remain indifferent to public sensitivity and international concerns. He said Parliament’s authority on making laws "is subject to audit by the country and international community".

Assistant Minister Bifwoli Wakoli asked the Speaker to take action against MPs who absented themselves from Parliament during crucial debate "taking beer as we make laws only to vilify us outside the House".

Marende will make a ruling "at the earliest opportune time" after asking the media and politicians to exercise restraint on the matter.

Ndaragwa MP Jeremiah Kioni censured legislators distancing themselves from the Bill, saying all members were responsible.

Assistant Minister Kabando wa Kabando called for the serialisation of the draconian law so that more Kenyans could critique it.
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Yes Susan There is a Santa Claus

The Board of One Village just left. It was an incredible meeting, something that I dreamed of but now it’s true.Getting a good working Board takes luck, tenacity and a je ne sais quoi that melded for the first time in our 6 year history. Tonight we not only got it off the ground but also took flight like Rudolph aiming for the stars.
What a pleasure it is to work for such talented and optimistic people. They see possibilities and dream dreams, but still hold my feet to the fire. From it just being my dream it has become a shared dream, and I’m so grateful to take this walk with them. The questions they ask, the breadth of knowledge in people younger than my own children brings me such joy. You see I know about the Peacekeepers and they are on the Board. More than that I wish the folks my age could believe in them as much as I do. They are changing the world sometimes silently and sometimes with a roar, but they are among us and we need to be mindful.
Our Secretary asked me if I had heard from KMET. I guess I haven’t been too current on the blog. It’s always the same story, people write more when things are bad not when they're good. For me, One Village is always a walk of faith. It was only last week, when I asked God what did He want me to do. It had been almost 8 weeks since I had heard from Monica. I felt like maybe it was my pride that kept me going or my driven nature. I realized that the Board meeting was a week away and I might have nothing for them. It had happened once before and, in fairness, everyone was quite understanding, but I felt like such a failure.
I wondered how I could have read Monica so wrong when I was in Kisumu. I was sure we were on the same page, but 3 emails later still no response. I tried to remind myself that things are always slow back and forth to Africa, but I knew that this was a bluff. So I readied myself to admit that it was time to close it down. No KMET no micro-finance in January…no micro-finance no progress, and it went down from there. It’s just where my mind goes.
A week ago I heard from Monica saying “pole sana” sort of a” I’m sorry you poor thing “in Swahili. She had lost some staff and hadn’t gotten my emails. We were on for January start. I asked a former member of the Board to help with the MOU and she was Johnny on the spot. She got that puppy written up in time for the meeting tonight. S is a remarkable woman to whom I shall always be in debt.
So now I can dream dreams again. The Board okayed things that I needed, encouraged me and vowed to come back in January to dream and do the much needed work that we must do to get the children fed, clean water, and enough money to sustain them in their endeavors. It’s safe now to go to bed now and dream of sugarplums and PlayPumps and know that the Board is with me. It is indeed Christmas.

$1 = 70 Ksh in case you're wondering.

Now that we have finished an overabundance of food and we return to the real world, I of course return to my beloved Kenya. Today it is in my heart and in my head as I read the Sunday Nation (one of their two daily papers). I ache for them and feel somehow smaller for the pinch we complain about here. At least the norm here is not starving. Even in bad times we have food pantries, churches, and shelters. Over there it's just starvation. So now that we're heading back to our homes and our stocked pantries and refridgerator I thought you should read the Nation if you have a moment.

The Nation Sunday 30 November 2008
Households despair as hunger stalks


It is 4pm on a Friday. James Otieno, 28, walks through the endless rows of Kibera slum houses, his four-year-old daughter Belinda Atieno clinging onto his back. He has just picked her up from a Lutheran nursery school and is taking her home.

The Sunday Nation walks with him the entire 3km journey to his house. After several turns and twists, Mr Otieno finally ushers the Sunday Nation team into his house.

His three other children are having lunch consisting of ugali and sukumawiki (kales).

“This is how we live. “When you see us taking late lunch it means there isn’t enough flour for supper.

Instead we will make porridge,” says Mr Otieno as his wife Alice Aoko, 23, nods in support of her husband’s remarks that the family has not eaten meat this year. Bread too has become a luxury.

“At Sh240 a kilo, meat is just too expensive,” says Mrs Otieno. Her husband earns Sh130 a day from his job. When the business is down, his boss pays him Sh70. He has to pay a Sh500 monthly rent and meet the other family needs.

“When I get the Sh70, we go for the half-kilo maize flour, but since it is too expensive now, we opt for one gorogoro (2kg tin) which costs Sh60,” says Mr Otieno.

But he is not alone in this predicament. The soaring food prices are continuously making life unbearable for many Kenyans like him.

The prices of essential commodities such as maizemeal have been rising since the start of the year.

Last year, the price of a 2kg packet of maize flour was Sh48. It is now retailing at between Sh100 and Sh120 in most Nairobi retail stores.

Offered subsidies

The shortage in flour comes a few months after farmers demanded that the Government subsidise farm inputs to increase production. The price of fertiliser shot up from Sh1,700 to Sh6,000 a bag before Agriculture minister William Ruto intervened and offered subsidies.

Last week, the Cabinet authorised the release to millers of 700,000 bags of maize from the National Cereals Produce Board strategic reserve. The Cabinet also approved the importation of 5 million bags.

Agricultural economists at Egerton University’s Tegemeo Institute say Kenya produces about 33 million bags of maize a year, but the consumption is about 34 million.

“For the production period 2007/08, Tegemeo had estimated a deficit of over 10 million bags. This has serious food security implications as most people in Kenya effectively equate food to maize and food security as access to maize,” says Dr Mary Mathenge, the institute’s director.

Early this year, the institute warned that Kenya would have only 1 million bags at the strategic reserve if no appropriate action was taken.

Ms Betty Kibaara, a policy analyst at the institute, says there is an urgent need for short-term measures to deal with the current deficit especially through removal of trade restrictions.

According to the institute, 3.5 million bags of maize were destroyed during the post-election violence.

Happy Turduken

Ok,so I know it's been a long time since I was here. I have not heard from Monica yet and I'm beginning to worry. Working in Kenya means accepting that planning is neither a noun nor a verb in their vernacular. Perhaps because life is so impermanent, perhaps because they never want to say no...or their out of communication range literally. I'm not sure whether Monica is in the Sudan, laying low or what. I will call her after the holiday.

Which of course brings me to the annual eating festival called Thanksgiving. Because I am one and my children and families are several I always go to them. I don't really understand making people with children enter into the melee at the airport the day before Thanksgiving and then making them return that Sunday. Everyone knows bags are lost, lines are like aerobics in hell, and definitely most flights will be canceled one way or another. However, I digress.

This year we had decided to go out to T.G. Older daughter has had a difficult year to say the least, and didn't need to do the usual fall fandango. We had reservations etc.
However, during one of our weekly chats I told her that I wanted to try a turduken. She admitted that she was also curious about this southern concoction. (It is a boneless turkey stuffed with a boneless duck stuffed with a boneless chicken stuffed with cornbread stuffing). Since I am all about overstatement, I couldn't resist. I'd get a turduken for Friday so we could try it. However you can't get a small trial size turduken...only one that feeds 22. What the heck we could have leftovers..so I ordered it anyway.

You have to order a turduken months in advance and then tell them precisely when you want this edible behemoth delivered to your door. Ours arrived a week before and was huge. It was huge, and my elder daughter was complaining of an overabundance of potatoes. Definitely a change of plans was necessary. So we decided to skip going out and just made everything ourselves. I am pleased that my children share my enthusiasm for overabundance. Some like sweet potatoes with marshmellows, some mashed, cornbread stuffing..but what if we don't like it. No problem, let's make regular stuffing as well. Beans or brussel sprouts why decide make both. The pie is the only thing we had one of, and there were only 4 of us at the table.

We anxiously talked about the turduken, posted it on our Facebook pages and answered rafts of questions from curious people. To say the taste is exquisite is an understatement to the nth degree. However, I googled turduken and found that I could show you all what a turduken is invivo, so I present to you turduken carving. I suggest next year you email Cajun Ed and get your own. Or if you really hurry you can get one for Christmas

A Letter To The Peacekeepers

There is a statue at the end of my street. Many people miss it as they hurry to the chic restaurants that dot the gentrified neighborhood I now live in. But there was a time, when I moved in that the neighborhood was much more diverse, and a group of activists worked to get the statue placed in the park to note that Harriet Tubman once lived in the South End. There she stands, her arms stretched across the chests of slaves pushing towards freedom. And there this morning on her outstretched arms was a bouquet of flowers, red, white and blue. I believe all across this country folks are having those moments and people, silently are leaving mementoes to let us know we remember a different time, with dogs, and fire hoses, and riots, and beatings, and we are glad to leave not flowers to mourn, but flowers to rejoice.

Dear Peacekeepers,

I suspect all of us are still glowing from the election. I don't always share my history with you, but I am compelled to by the events of the last year. As most of you know my father was in politics. In 1961 he left Chicago and went to work for the Kennedys (Bobby actually). it was an amazing time in my life as a kid in junior and then senior high. Jackie and John were a young couple just like the Obamas and their reign was called Camelot. Our spirits soared as young people because we believed in them and the hope of all that spread before them
.
My daddy worked in Civil Rights and I went to many things with him. I lived with him off and on throughout his time in D.C.
We were there in August of 1963 on the lawn for Martin Luther King's speech. I saw a patched, sparkling tapestry of people wherever I looked. It was hot and yet no one was complaining, we were all just waiting to hear the words of a man who electrified out souls and gave us hope. I didn't know at the time I was part of history. But I remember looking over at my father and seeing tears streaming down his eyes. He turned to me and said "Lefty, remember this day, remember this time, you are part of history." When I asked him why he was crying he said "Because I know Martin Luther King is a dead man." and later indeed he was proved correct.

For those of us who lived through that time, who dreamed dreams with JFK and Bobby and Martin, we had our time both good and bad. Never, though, did I think I would have the opportunity to see a new Camelot come to pass. But Camelot is back again and you have a chance to be there to witness it. I urge you to come to Washington on inauguration day. Go in groups, go on the train, crash at a friend' s house but come. You cannot imagine what it is like to be part of hundreds of thousands of people there at the same time, knowing this time, that we will be witnessing history.Watching on t.v. just won't ever be the same.

I know many of us thought as we saw Obama stride across the stage in Grant Park, "oh please don't kill him". However for now it is real and we can only pray that the masters and God keep him safe. So join me for this incredible day. I will be there with my daughters, husbands and grandson. For me it is a passing of the torch, an honoring of my past and a firm belief in the future and in all of you. It is your time, it is you who will help him change the future. Why not start on Day 1?

All good things,
susan




How R U Coping?

I am finding that people are either totally ready to talk about politics or completely turned off. As a shrink I have to keep my views to myself, unless the person sitting across from me reveals that they are a democrat. Then my heart soars and I know that I shall be asked something about Obama. I feel a special kind of ownership of Obama. After all back in 2002 I met one of his cousins (who lived and unfortunately died in Kenya). I have film footage of his grandmother, footage of his cousins. I even speak better Luo than I do Swahili (which isn't saying much).

What I am totally puzzled by is how anyone can vote for McCain/Palin. What are they thinking? Her I.Q isn't even room temperature, and frankly his DSM IV would give him Dementia, Paranoia and definitely a personality disorder. He referred to a crowd as "my fellow prisoners", are you kidding? And the worst part is that he didn't even recognize it. Then there's Sarah, you know how I hate her. Well, I am coping by watching YouTube and praying that we won't have her to kick around much longer. But Just in case you like one last shot, check this out.

I Just Can't Resist
First I know you're confused by the blog because the last part is first. So you have to scroll down to 3 October and read up instead of down. Sorry about that.

Second I know everyone is head over heels with Tina Fey, but you just have to check this one out. I think it's fabulous. And remember there are only 2 more weeks of this insanity. Lets hope we don't have Sarah and her kid to kick around anymore. BTW do you think she'll give the baby back if she doesn/t win?

See more funny videos at Funny or Die

We'll Get a Luo First

I must say I'm overjoyed that Colin Powell came out for Barack Obama. I can't tell you how happy I would be if we got the first Luo/American President. Some of my friends on Facebook can't believe it, but the world is indeed watching and I pray we get it right.
And now for the final installment of
Miles to go before I sleep...
11 October 2008

Yesterday began as all mornings do at the lovely Blue York, no power and again a cold shower. I struggle to down the breakfast and am most anxious about the meeting with Monica. The night before I had prayed hard and surrendered it all up to God. For you who are non-believers, this practice might seem foolish, but I have always found that when I totally surrender my will to Him, the path is made clear.
The ride to Kisumu is it’s usual hot dusty affair, however as a muzungu I must always make a decision. Since there is no air-conditioning, I can either burn my arm by opening the window, or sweat until my clothes are soaked. Typical of me, I tried both.
Finding Monica and KMET was an adventure in and of itself. It is tucked behind a main road, on a bumpy, rock infested stretch of dirt. We had to call Monica several times before we found it. However she told me she would come out to meet us and I told her she couldn’t miss me because I was a muzungu. She was astonished and thought I was Luo, which I took as a compliment. My Luo is much better than my Swahili.
What happened next was nothing short of a miracle. Monica began describing the programs they have in place including nutrition, and education as well as micro loans. I explained what we wanted to do and she and her board member, another Monica were quite enthused. I showed them the playpump (yes she has internet) and they loved it. They loved the idea of running a clinic on weekends, and using the schools on the months they are closed for training. They are the link I needed for us to get to where we are aiming. They have community organizers on the ground, nutritionists, and a whole bevy of essential people we need to make it. And best of all they are already there.
We agreed that I would go home and draw up a contract of what we would expect of them and how we would fund it, along with a history of One Village and they would make the necessary calls to get the ball rolling.
Francis dropped me off for the late flight at 4P so he could get home to Nairobi. I then waited 3 hours for the plane, but I was finally clear on what decisions I had to make. And today when I woke up I was able to write the letters that needed to be written: Mabunge shall be dropped, Manyole shall be on probation, and we shall start with Malanga.
It seems there are not as many miles now to go as I thought there were.


12 October 2009
It seems fitting that I wrap up with some observations on politics and tribal allegiances both here and in the U.S. Kenyans are, of course, mad for Obama. They warn that if he wins, the town of Kisumu will go wild, as indeed I think it will.
As a muzungu, I find I’m pretty invisible in some ways. Kenyans love to talk about politics and particularly now. As the white girl I don’t belong to any tribe, so anyone can put forth their ideas about the history of their government and how things have evolved, and they don’t have to worry about offending me. If a Kikuyu says a Luo is lazy or sneaky, it’s ok, I’m not Luo. If a Luya says that the Kikuyus have taken all the land and left them with nothing, I can listen I’m not Kikuyu.
Though the tribes agree on the fact that Kenyatta, Moi and Kibeki have been presidents of Kenya, they see each one’s rule quite differently. While all agree that any one from any tribe can go anywhere, under the surface lies fear and anger. Since the riots of last winter, each Kenyan knows what is possible in their country, though they don’t want to talk about it. I fear for that reason it may happen again.
I am glad I missed the worst week in financial history in the U.S. I would have felt powerless and out of sorts. However, as we face our own political contest, our tribes are beginning to show their stripes. We don’t have formal names exactly, but they exist and hatreds can be just as deep. I think the only difference is that we don’t use pangas to kill, but surely we cheat at the poles.
The Kenyan papers have been full of news about Obama and Pallin. (McCain seems to be of no interest here). I read that there was a gathering for McCain and Pallin and at some point someone yelled, “kill him!” referring to Obama. Didn’t they mean lynch? We have not come far at all when it comes to lynching and burning crosses, and excluding certain ethnic groups. We’re just a little more smug and hide it better, until someone yells “kill him” and those of us who lived through the 60’s remember all our leaders gone. I pray we don’t repeat that, but in my heart there is a small fear that someone could indeed kill him and we would repeat the past again.
I leave for the airport in a few hours. I shall be glad to get back to the U.S. I want to scrub myself, and eat food I know. I want to sleep in my new bed and cuddle with the cats, but I know whether I am here or in the U.S the future is indeed a truth not fully revealed.
Respectfully Submitted,
Susan B. Gross
Executive Director “One Village at a Time”

Miles to Go Before I sleep...


I've been really touched by the response of people here in the U.S to what we are doing in Kenya.A total stranger donated $50 to our cause, just because he did. And I just found out today that a local High School is trying to raise money for One Village. I am always a bit overwhelmed by people's generosity, but the really nice thing about One Village is that there is such an incredibly sweet spirit among all the people who work on it, that I truly shouldn't be surprised.

The photo is of the street leading to the hotel. The blue roof is the Blue York. You can see I always stay in the nicest places.

Part 3....

7 October 2008

Each time I come here I struggle to bring you with me. As much as there is despair, there is great hope. We drove to Malanga School today. Francis did a very good job of filming it for you to see. But what I can’t capture is the feeling when I look at the surging children running to shake my hand, touch my hair. At that moment I am theirs and they are mine and there is nothing that can describe that ineffable feeling.
We began at 11A with a cloudless sky and the day spread before us with limitless time. It is amazing how everything does get done in the course of the day. The children presented their songs, poems and plays. The Head of the School Committee was most gracious in introducing me and helping me when I could not understand the Swahili. The parents were the very best. They showed up in the heat, they listened, they are involved and understand what we are trying to do. The teachers and parents formed teams to work together to form cooperatives to present to KMet. The only problem is that I have not been able to contact Monica who is my contact with KMet. But I am optimistic.
There was the usual stomach lurching meal for muzungus. No matter how I try I cannot eat their food, it makes me queasy. I demur and say I don’t eat in the middle of the day and they are fine. The rains held off until we reached Busia at 4P. I don’t know whether it is tragic or fantastic that peanut butter crackers can taste so good, but they do and I am grateful I brought them.
Upon returning, my clothes and I took our usual shower. I was happy there was some warm water before the power went out. The rains have cut it and so I am sitting in the dark, listening to it bang on the roof and wonder what happens to dinner. Oh I know, more peanut butter crackers.

9 October 2008

I am basically totally wiped out, and I suspect headed for a case of either parasites or plain old dysentery. Yesterday I went to Mabunge and it was really pretty much a disaster. The school committee was missing and so were the parents. Now, they had 2 days to get the parents there and also they chose the time, so the fact that the muzungu could travel all these miles and get there and the parents couldn’t, did not sit well.

It was a real education to see the difference in the schools. Malanga is sublime, Mabunge is a swamp. I am glad that Charles was not here so I could see what the true participation is. The teachers weren’t even all present. So I told them they were on probation. I told them if they didn’t step up they would be dropped from the program at the end of the year. I realized that all this time Charles has not told them that I work for an NGO. So they just think that Mama Susan comes and brings money. I shamed them as well and told them that Malanga got more money because they worked harder, and that their loan would start at the first of the year. Unfortunately it didn’t seem to make much of a difference. They are so used to having a hand out that they don’t understand they must work for it. At this point, if we have to preserve money, I think they should be dropped.

Today we went to our third school, Manyole. As we bumped down the road to the school we saw the children fleeing in the opposite direction. Now, these children know me well, they are truly my favorite of the schools, but they were running towards the road. All at once Francis and I knew exactly what was happening, Miriam, the head teacher, had told them to go home and get their parents. So instead of my usual greeting, there were no parents, no school committee, and no head teacher to greet me. Total disarray abounded.

I found Miriam, who was angry with the parents. I told her I was too and that they would probably go on probation. Justus Obimba, the Head Master, came in and asked me to have tea. It was now one hour after I had arrived, and the tea is going to do me in. After one sip I knew there was something wrong, and after a few more I knew that they had used well water, and that by tomorrow I shall be in for it.

It was quite a hot one on the equator, and the clouds were not collecting for the afternoon rains. Inside the Head Master’s office was a sweat-inducing nightmare. And then there was the tea I didn’t drink…and the wait for the parents.

They finally showed up about 1 ½ hours after I arrived and 4 hours after they were supposed to arrive. There were no songs or dances by the children and the school committee was visibly shaken by the fact that I told them they might be dropped from the program. Justus heard me well and told the parents that. By noon I had about 60 parents so I decided to go through with gathering them into groups to decide on the projects that they might do for income generating as they call it here.

They had a good deal of difficulty with the questionnaire that Phillip Imboywa had written out in Swahili. Many of the adults had to rely on the children to read it to them and to write the answers. In the end we had some good groups who had banded together. There were no teachers, however, who wanted to help. That spoke volumes as well.

I finished my work with them by offering them the challenge of who could give the most per month and per term would win a prize. Ah, now they were interested. Many questions came up about how they could win the prize, but I was encouraged that parents who did not have children in Standard 8 or 7 were interested enough to say they wanted to contribute as well. So a fire was lit and we retired to the classrooms for the ever-present stewed chicken, rice, ugali greens and sodas. I could not, I just could not eat. It was so hot, and I just couldn’t choke it down. Thankfully Beatrice called me in the middle of the meal and I could leave to talk with her. That gave me the breather I needed to avoid the food.

I arrived back at my digs at 4P. I have changed rooms because of an interesting custom here. When someone dies, they have all night fundraisers to help the family with the costs of the burial. Oh and they go on for days. So last night the music blared until 3A M. Ha! Wouldn’t you know it they had power last night so that that racket could go on and on and on.

The greatest challenge has been to get in touch with Monica Oguttu of KMet the microfinance person. I called and called but she did not answer. Finally. Yesterday, we went to a cyber café. Ok, my children used these computers when they were in 4th grade: they are now 34 and 37. I assume I don’t need to elaborate on what happened next. Ah a dial up service, and it took forever for the page to load. My computer was out of electricity or I could have done it. Yeah, I love these black outs. Anyway 30 minutes later I got an email off and prayed Monica would get it. Bingo, 4 hours later she called, so we shall go to Kisumu tomorrow to meet her and then I shall go back to Nairobi on the late flight. There are still miles to go…

I'm in Love!

Ok, not with a guy, but the new PCP Wizard. Saw her yesterday, a far cry from the Witch. She's bright, well trained and totally nonplussed by what I do. Maybe that's because she's from Ghana and goes over at least once a year to teach. We almost forgot to take care of the physical and meds because of our excitement at talking to each other. I shared with her the idea of clinics in schools on the weekends and she loved it. It's almost like I can't wait to get sick so we can talk more, but I suspect there will be other opportunities. So I'm besotted with the idea of a PCP who is cool and gets me.

And now for the second installment of "Miles to go before I sleep..."

4 October 2008
The first full day here was rather humdrum. I suppose if you have never been to Nairobi then all the smells and sights, the burning in your eyes, the insane drivers cutting each other off, might feel exotic. For me, it is my other home. Prices have gone up here but other than that it’s Nairobi.
I decided to go to Masaai Market today to get the things for our auction. The government has moved the site of the market, and it seemed much smaller than before. Francis loves the market and is happy to look around and haggle. For me I tire of it quickly and like to shop with a goal. I don’t like being pulled and tugged, I hate the constant bargaining. I know it is all part of the deal, but I have been here so many times, I know what a fair price is and when they ask something so astronomical that I’m shocked, it depresses me. I come to them, in their clothes, my hair braided (yes that was the morning venture) and speaking their language. I guess the saying we have back home, just doesn’t apply here. “Honey I was born at night, just not last night”.
The market was successful and I got things that should do well in the auction. And then it was off to the Nakumatt for coffee. They don’t drink coffee here, but they sure grow some of the best in the world. Again, Francis takes the cart and is shocked when I go right to the coffee and tea aisle and load up and then want to check out. He is stunned, but then he remembers and laughs, “You are a woman of purpose, I forgot”. As we left the torrents of rain that should not be falling are pelting us. I love the feel of the soft warm wet, but Francis runs for the car. I stroll and he watches. Ah a crazy muzungu.
We returned unscathed and said goodbye. Francis will drive the Rift tomorrow; I will fly over it on Monday. He will bring a different driver for me to meet tomorrow and the new one will take me to KARI. I go tomorrow with such mixed emotions, only a few months ago, my friends were slaughtered. Only a few months ago I hear Beatrice’s panicked voice begging me to help her and the girls leave Kari. Mama June and her 2 daughters are dead. Evalyn shall never live there again. However, I suspect, as we gather to worship, we shall nod and be still and acknowledge what is past and then carry on. Africans are good at that.
It’s not that they don’t care or don’t feel. Their acceptance of a life that is impermanent and treacherous as well as joyous is fully lived. We Americans believe we control everything, but that is just not so. In my other job as therapist I listen to people bemoan their experience of the world, and I must help them see it is not the world that is ruining their life; it is their thinking and expectations about this planet that’s doing it.
And so I go early in the morning, wondering what I will find, happy and sad all at the same time. I will be at my home church with the choir singing, and the stillness of the land and the clouds.

Miles to go before I sleep...

I returned yesterday from 3 days of traveling. I don't mind the flights and waits, I just get into African mode and wait knowing at some point it will be over. Once home I became like a whirling dervish and opened mail, unpacked, made calls and watched the news. But most of all I took a long hot shower.

This morning I had to go get food, the cupboard was bare. It was weird driving; I missed Francis. As a matter of fact I guess I thought he would drive me to the store. It's hard to go between such divergent worlds. When I am in Kenya I am totally there and adopt as much of life as I can, and then I come home and have to get back into it. Sometimes I can see the edge of Kenya just in the corner of my eye.

I am going to post my journal over the next few days. It can say so much more than I can now. When I write over there it is urgent and present, now it is just a memory. I hope you like it.

2 October 2008

It has been difficult to get ready for this trip. I have only just realized that it has been more than a year since I have been home to Kenya. I don’t know what I will find and though I preach faith, it is hard to have it as much as I would like.
I shall return to KARI. Evalyn and I did not leave on good terms. She was quite angry with me when I left. It had to do with her project and my speaking the truth to some people. I frequently get in trouble because I am really bad at hiding my feelings or avoiding answering a question, which I probably don’t have to answer. However the elections came soon after my departure and everything changed. Evalyn no longer lives at KARI. They have moved into town because they were so terrified by the killings. She is still Pastor at my home church there, St. John’s. But it will be quite different. I shall not return to her home after church for lunch, and I don’t know how she will greet me.
Beatrice and Boaz and their girls will also be at church. Over the years we have become like sisters, and I have watched her girls grow into women. I am bringing them computers so that they can study the way they should be able to if they were being educated in the U.S. And I know we must help make these girls leaders as well. However there are no plans for after church, though I suspect I shall lunch with them.
That is not the only thing tearing at me, driving me to write at this early hour, still on the plane to Heathrow. It is my own self-doubt as to my ability to get the job done. It is mistrust, that for the first time, I feel for 2 of the schools. Maybe it is just the taste of a failure I fear I shall have. I go with charts and ideas, I know that my amazing board is making the contacts we need to get the pumps in place, and raise the money to keep going. I know that One Village has never been in better shape, but still..
I was listening to Stephen Armstrong on my iPod. He was discussing a particular chapter of Luke and he said folks who wondered what God wanted them to do always puzzled him. His response was a smack in the face. He said, “I tell people to go to a time when they really felt they understood what God wanted them to do and keep doing it until they heard different.” Pow! Yeah I haven’t heard anything different in a long time, so I’m guessing that I should shut up, be still and get on with it.
We land soon. I realize it is already 3 October, early early in the morning. And there are miles to go before I sleep.

I'm Good To Go

Bags are packed, condoms cover the contraband computers I am bringing for a couple of girls in college over in Kenya, and I'm just trying to figure out how to come in under weight. The thing that always weirds me out is that folks who don't know what I do, and those that do always tell me to have fun or have a great time. If ever there is an example of other people's thinking that's it. See they have no clue that there is nothing about what I do over there that's fun (well maybe that half day at the pool). They see Kenya as this exotic place from "Out of Africa "or the "Flame Trees of Thika." But the movie I see is "Poverty and Disease in Nambale." Or The Contaminated Waters that Kill". I sleep in truly appaling conditions for an American when I'm in Nambale. The mosquito netting is black with filth and the bed is creepy. I finally got smart and bought a pillow to take with me. Oh and that is a photo of what passes for a bathroom in the guest house I stay in. However, there is beauty in the smiles of the children, the dancing and singing, the vast skies that stretch forever. But fun is not what it's about, it's about purpose.

I'll be keeping a journal which I will post as I can. And now for my latest dig at Sarah Palin. I can't believe I'm going to miss the debate, since it's going to be like watching Young Frankenstein. Only the funny parts won't be scripted. Here's tonight's rendition. Don't know what I would do without Talking Points Memo. com. Do check this one out. Seems she can't even remember what newspapers she reads, probably because USA Today is too hard to say. Ha! Talk to you on the other side.

http://tpmtv.talkingpointsmemo.com/2008/09/sarah_palin_all_your_news_are.php

I Can't Resist

I am going to Kenya on Thursday. I have mixed feelings, as always, about it. There is the exhausting flight, travel, food, and various assorted illnesses I have gotten over there. But that's not the deal. I'm going to have to play the heavy and come down on 2 of the schools. I really don't have a clue how I'm going to accomplish that. See, the thing is, you can't do your life in the future. You can have an idea about it, but you can't really do it till you're there. So, I'm going on a wing and a prayer.

I think though, that the hardest part of the trip, is that I'm going to miss the Vice Presidential Debate. You know there's just not going to be a way to capture that in Nairobi, even if i did have T.V. I'm going to tape it and try and hold off on sneaking a peek on my way through Heathrow on the way home. But Tina Fey is doing such a great job, I have every confidence that I'll get most of it as soon as I'm home. And in that vein, for anyone who didn't see SNL last night, here's one for the road.

Did Everything Meet with your Satisfaction?

Wow is there a difference in being a member of the health insurance company versus being a provider! I called today to finally put in the name of the new wizard. I couldn’t really change until I had gotten all that I needed from the wicked witch without actually seeing her.
So I called my insurance company to request a change to a new PCP. I did not have to press multiple numbers “if you want. press” . You know the kind I am talking about that make you feel like giving up. Oh no, I got right through. A kind southern woman (I could tell by the drawl), quickly took the information and then asked me why I was changing primary care physicians and I gave her a brief rundown of the Witch and told her to refer to my evaluation of her. The lady actually apologized for the bad treatment and when we finished she said.get this, “Did everything meet with your satisfaction today”.
What galls me is that health insurance companies are paying the same thing they did 30 years ago to us providers. They make us jump through all kinds of hoops until we get savvy and give you diagnoses that will allow you to keep coming. If I have a question or need to recertify they want me to do that on the Internet. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want my mental health discussed or read on the Internet. I don’t even know who’s reading what one would write on their sites. So, because of my ethics, I am stuck on a phone from down the rabbit hole. And trust me, at the end of the conversation no one asks me “Did Everything Meet With Your Satisfaction.”
I’m off to Kenya next week. Keep the faith y’all.

Turn Left at The Bottom of France You Can't Miss It!

I read Talking Points Memo every morning as every good Democrat should. But today I was totally stunned by this interview. Seems McCain doesn't know where Spain is. I'm not sure if he knows where his mind is. Is anyone getting really queasy about a president who thinks that Spain is in Latin America? Does anyone care that he is clueless as to who the President of Spain is? WTF? Check out this interview on El Cid if you dare.

Sarah and Damon and Yemen Oh My!

So I went to my body worker today and he told me about this clip of Matt Damon talking about Sarah Palin as a bad Disney Movie and I just couldn't stop thinking about how true that is. I don't usually turn to actors for intellectual things, but he is spot on. So I put it down here for you all. She is beyond scary.

When I finished the massage/torture, I walked out to the news that they bombed the embassy in Yemen. My heart sunk, more for personal reasons than for shock. Everyone hates us. I'm betting Sarah doesn't even know where Yemen is! But I'm going to Kenya in 2 weeks and Sarah, it's not that far from where I'm going. No, I'm not worried, but it does make international travel to Kenya a real shackle. Sarah do you think we should bomb them back or do they just need to go to their rooms without dinner? Or maybe you want to get really tough on them and bench them for the season from hockey. Am I on the same planet as folks in Ohio? Does anyone out there care.

Lions and tigers and bears oh my! Where is the the scarecrow to lend poor Sarah a brain and the tin man to give her heart when we truly need it? I guess she'll have to go to OZ.
Enjoy the clip, it's really good.

To Drive or not to Drive

Hey just saw Hamlet 2, definitely worth the price of admission. But in this case I'm thinking more of Hamlet 1. I have this great desire to drive the rift. When Francis heard he wrote me and said, great now you can see how horrible our roads are. Yeah and then I read my handy Standard today which informs me that there is phenomenal famine in the Rift. I've just read the Alchemist, so maybe these are signs, but I'm not sure. I've never felt compelled to drive the Rift so maybe that's the sign. I am meeting with a woman from Kiva at the end of my trip, so that's a total victory.

Met with Phillip on Saturday as well as the new board. What an amazing group of people.Phillip really made me see the changes that need to be made in the program, and I know he's right. I'm just not competent at writing grants so I'm going to have to pray for that one. And the board, well they just made me weep with joy. They can dream and think large, and they can also hold my feet to the fire. So all in all I'm feeling pretty optimistic.

I had an interesting skype conversation with a friend in Nairobi today. She loves it and is ecstatic over its diversity, nightlife, cosmopolitan nature, but feels the under currents. She's white. My friend Phillip is so relieved to be here in the US because he says he is no longer afraid to walk home from the T at night. In Nairobi
(often called NightRobbery) my African friends do not feel safe and do not venture out at night. So what's real, I suspect both experiences.

And should I drive the rift or fly. I'll let you vote. I would get some spectacular photos ....the car could break down and we could be robbed...i'd love to see the countryside...whatever...hey francis what do you think????

Keep the faith y'all

Ok, Mother has settled down from the hilarity of the RNC and now must get back to the real business, One Village. It has been more than an incredible nail-biter, I am so tested as to my faith and desire to see this through. I want to quit at least on a weekly basis.
There is an old post somewhere that recounts the fact that my family are psychiatric lemmings, and while I watch from a safe distance there is a real desire to quit. This morning, however, I heard from both micro-loan groups in Kenya. Nothing solid, mind you, but enough to give me hope that I shall meet at least one of them in Kenya the first week in October.

I have finally been able to work things out with Francis, we have a tentative schedule, and bless him, he understands it can change at any moment. It's great having him since we have become friends and he's also a photographer a real plus. I have decided to drive across the Rift with him instead of flying. I want to take more of the countryside into my body and rub it into my pores.The great Rift of story and fable, breadbasket of Kenya, I want to be in it if just for a few hours. (It will also save me the airfare to Kisumu which would be good as well.)

So I sent my schedule, wrote the loan people and then turned to the Standard to read the papers. Oh, seems Kisumu has not settled down since the riots, in fact they're still rioting. And I'll be spending at least one night there so I can meet with the loan folks. Yeah, well, this is where memories of Eldoret come into view and I'm just going to go on faith. Eldoret was clearly the most terrifying night of my life. It's always good to know you've got that under your belt so whatever happens you won't be that scared. I'm actually getting excited to get back home to Kenya.

I'm going to have to put a couple schools on probation, challenge all 3 of them, and see where the next step takes me. But with Phillip as a guide as to what is possible,and Francis to protect me, I am more firm in my resolve and believe we can pull this off. But Francis, I'm glad you've got dark windows just in case....

Keep the faith y'all

And Now for the News:This is from the Standard the Kenyan paper

Police battle rioters in Kisumu over kiosks demolished

Updated 21 hr(s) 47 min(s) ago

By Kepher Otieno and Winsely Masese

Several people were injured as traders protesting the demolition of kiosks battled police.

The rioters in Kisumu stoned motorists and disrupted business in the morning incident, prompting police to fire in the air.

Police also used tear gas to restore order in the town, which has not recovered from post-election violence.

Traders light bonfires along a streets as they protest against demolition of kiosks by the municipal council in Kisumu on Thursday. The council claimed the traders had erected the structures illegally. Photo: Titus Munala/Standard

The more than 100 traders were protesting against the demolition of their kiosks at a bus park by municipal askaris.

They claimed they had lost goods worth Sh10 million. The council had used bulldozers and askaris to flatten the kiosks as police kept vigil to keep off looters.

However, the traders claimed the askaris looted goods before flattening the kiosks.

"They were on a looting spree. They also attacked and injured watchmen guarding the premises. It was savage," said a local civil rights activist, Mr Audi Ogada.

Important meeting

Kisumu Mayor Sam Okello and Town Clerk Joshua Kutekha could not speak to the media.

"We are in an important meeting. We will talk to you later," Mr Kutekha told The Standard on phone.

The traders accused the council of effecting the demolitions without giving them an eviction notice.

Rioters lit bonfires along the busy Nairobi Highway, and Kakamega and Busia roads to block motorists from accessing the town.

They cordoned off the bus park junction along the Kisumu-Nairobi highway and stoned motorists who dared go past the illegally mounted roadblocks.

Police had a hectic time controlling the mob.

The Standard and KTN crew covering the riots fell victims after their car was stoned and its windows smashed near the Kisumu District Hospital.

Even as police lobbed tears gas, the crowd seemed undeterred and fought back. They engaged police in running battles.

Court proceedings were disrupted for three hours as the rioters walked to the council. Kisumu Town West MP Olago Aluoch and DC James ole Seriani were also caught up in the melee as they tried to calm them.

Jon Stewart Can Do This Without Me

I just loved this clip and hope you do too. Sarah, just stay in the news long enough for me to get my fill of how silly a woman you are. Please.



Have fun y'all. It just gets better and better doesn't it.

I'm Giddy Over Sarah

From time to time politics gets so fabulous that Mother M just has to jump for joy. And the decision by McCain to nominate Sarah Palin for VP falls into the category of astonishment and joy over such an astoundingly bad choice. I feel the opportunities to have fun with this campaign are almost endless given the stupidity of the Republican party and the unbelievable shenanigans they are going to be up to. I know I live in Massachusetts which is like living in Oz. But truly a beauty queen who wants to secede from the Union as the V.P. How much fun, I'm giddy with anticipation.

And as if that weren't fun enough, try this link on Joe Lieberman (he was the first choice but lost out, but maybe he'll come back to the Dems.) You gotta love this video of his campaigning for the DNC in 2004.http://talkingpointsmemo.com/archives/212584.php
Gosh, I think I have to run. I think Joe is going to speak as a Republican.

And what do you think they'll name Sarah's grandchild, maybe Ooops if it's a girl and Duh if it's a boy.
Keep the faith y'all

Good Heaven’s We’re Poor!

There have been many times in my life as a clinician that a patient has told me that though they had little money growing up, they never knew they were poor. I have come to know there are levels of wealth and poverty and money is only one measure of despair. However, today I learned a real lesson about the people I serve in Kenya.

It was a beautiful dry fall day here in Boston. The end of summer, a tap on the shoulder to remind us those colder days are almost here. I went to meet Phillip in Belmont. I brought a couple friends, one who had just finished working in Tanzania. We talked about the possibility of collaborating on clinics with Phillip, who though Kenyan, had worked primarily in Tanzania. I was startled to hear that where S worked there were plenty of chickens and cows, land was not a problem and eggs were abundant. None of that exists in Nambale. An egg is precious, and the children rarely if ever have milk. Phillip laughed with that full round smile that Africans make, and said indeed it was true. There were many well educated people who came from Nambale, but they always left and that it was one of the poorest places he knew of. I thought of my Luhya friends who had led me there, and yes they are very well educated, but no they don’t live there. They live in other parts of Kenya.

Phillip did encourage me to continue in Nambale.He encouraged me to speak straight, tell them what I wanted to do and that they would respond positively. (Goes against that Community Org. degree I got ages ago).
I was delighted to hear from Charles today. He said that the schools had sent their reports. He said I should check the stamps to see when they mailed them out. Dear man, he tries so hard and he is stretched so thin. I pray the papers are on their way, since grain is cheap now and we could buy so much more if they have done their homework. (Ha! Teachers late with their homework)

It is only 4 weeks until I return. I have so much to do. But I am beginning to see the path once again. I pray I can get in touch with someone from Kiva to talk about micro-loans. I hope someone will come to the schools to help train the villagers. I hope I can get Phillip to consult on the project without requiring too much money since that is always a problem. But I am relieved to have found my footing again.

Since I have always known either Siaya or Nambale, the grinding poverty I see I think of as normal for rural Africa. Now I know it is not. God surely has a sense of humor. Once upon a time when I was young, a national magazine wrote an article about my school and called us “Suburbia’s Coddled Kids”. I did grow up in great affluence and never would have thought about fire ants and malaria and braiding my hair to keep it clean because there are no showers. But I love what I do over there and God is God. And now I understand, “Good heavens, we are poor”….

You Must Go Far to Find What is Near…

I have been feeling a bit overwhelmed and frustrated by our Kenyan partners. It is almost the end of the month and still no records in sight. Charles and I worked hard this summer making up a chart they could fill out. Several revisions were made so that the language and what we were asking was understandable to the schools. I sent them letters encouraging them to get their records in on time, but it is the same old story. They just don’t do it. And I have come to wonder if it is possible to work in Kenya and not be seen as a donor instead of a partner.
I realize also that I miss the guidance I received from one of my retired board members. I need a sounding board and fresh ideas. Sometimes it is very lonely to carry this project despite all the amazing folks willing to lend a hand at supporting it. Sometimes I wonder if it is my own ego that drives this project not what God asks of me.
Two nights ago I felt real despair, as I am prone to do from time to time. In the last moments of the night before it becomes morning I prayed. I asked for some sign, something that would let me know to keep on keeping on. And I fell into restless sleep.
Yesterday my church was sponsoring the Zimbabwe Children’s Choir. I had sent several emails around inviting people. A couple of people said they would come. I was tired and dispirited after work yesterday, but felt I had to go and support these children whose courage and joy shone in their faces. I was driven more out of obligation than desire to hear another group of African children sing. I was feeling somewhat jaded since it is so much a part of my journeys to Africa. But I went; I put on my African clothes and I went.
I arrived early to greet my friends who said they were coming, but they did not show up. Instead there was a quiet African man sitting at a table. I began a conversation with him. He was Kenyan. We greeted each other in Swahili and lo and behold, he was Luhya. However as we began to get to know each other I found out he had done exactly what we are trying to do, only in Tanzania. And he had been successful!! We were excited to share stories but the concert was about to begin.
I listened and watched the children. I was struck with the differences of their dance and instruments. Theirs is much softer than the urgent beat of the Kenya drums. Their dance is much more restrained than the pounding and shaking of the dances I see. I longed to see my children dance at Manyole and Mabunge. I wanted to go home again to Kenya.
In the end Phillip and I exchanged information and knew that each of us had found something we were searching for. I told him of my prayer, and in his elegant, quiet way he held my hand and told me, “Sometimes you must go far to find what is near..” And so I begin again.

Time to Move On/Or This is Really Creepy

As most of you know I read the Kenyan papers every day. I have always been partial to the Nation. I thought their coverage was better and besides Daniel is my friend,but they have gone all internet glitzy and it's hard to get the real news. So I switched to reading the Standard and have replaced it on the blog.

This is the front page of the Standard and I don't know about you but I find this really creepy. And if you hit the link for the paper, you'll also find out the Kaddafi now owns their 5 Star Hotel in Nairobi. Nice huh!

Seems the US has been flying secret missions into and out of Nairobi. The suspicion is that they are "taking" terrorists out of Kenya. Check the article. It's creepy, and then check out the hotel story.
http://www.eastandard.net/?
Keep the faith Y'all

Lemony Snickets Meet Dante in the Third Circle.

I have just returned from a week in the Dominican Republic. I had booked this vacation for my children and me as a means of de-stressing from a difficult couple of months. My children indeed, had had a series of ‘Unfortunate Events” and truly needed to be pampered and loved. They are experts in Latin American traveling, my son in law being “equitoriano” and their having spent 3 months last year traveling from Tijuana to Central America, South America and back by ship, I figured they would know about the Dominican Republic. Even they were shocked by what was to follow.

I purchased the vacation on eBay. The glossy photos showed a 4-bedroom villa with a private plunge pool for a week for only $1000. Ok, so when it’s too good to be true, it’s too good to be true. Lured by the promises of fabulous restaurants, lobster every night, maids to make our breakfast each morning at the pool, who could refuse? And thus began our descent into hell.

There are rings to hell, if you remember your Dante, and we hit every one. It seems that Lifestyle Hacienda Resort and Spa is composed of myriads of layers of people who neither communicate with you or each other. It is based upon the idea that everyone is secretly elitist and wants to piss on people who have been made unequal. Yeah and you know how that’s going to work for my family and me.

Once it was clear that we did not want to be “VIP Members” we got shuttled off to the morass of people who didn’t know what was going on, who were trained to always practice deniability while appearing to acquiesce to your desire, or try to be helpful. It mattered not that my son in law spoke perfect Spanish so that he could deal with the lower echelons; we were always bumped to someone else.

And what, you might ask, required all this discussion with the staff. Well, let’s start with the villa which had no air-conditioning in the main part of the villa. Only in the bedrooms, and only in 2 of them. And no we didn’t get a 4-bedroom villa, but a 3-bedroom villa. Seems the lady who sold this to us on eBay is a notorious liar and guaranteed us al kinds of things that don’t apply to Lemony Snickets. There was a lot of reassurance that no villas had air-conditioning, but that was clearly not so, we had met folks who had it. But remember we were not worthy of that treatment since we did not want to plunk down $85,000 for the privilege of feeling superior to other people with inferior wristbands. (And trust me there is a whole hierarchy to that as well.)

They also had this amazing ruse about “restaurants”. What they had was a central slop bucket buffet, which served unrecognizable food to the peons. Then they had other “restaurants” that served up the same food, just further away from the industrial kitchens of the lower depths. But for these you had to make reservations the day before. Only on the last day were we allowed into the inner sanctum (The VIP Gourmet Restaurant which served hot food) Yes I did feel like gnawing my hands off. Oh, and you were required to buy into this as it was “all inclusive”.

We finally figured out how to escape, rented a car and left Dodge. We found 2 amazing beaches where the snorkeling was fantastic, the scenery delicious, and where one would hope you could get away from the constant push to buy a timeshare. That was not the case, however by day 5 we were intrepid soldiers in insulting anyone who ventured near us to sell us the “Lifestyle Resort Life”

There is definitely a lot more I could report on including the 3 little girls who slammed into our rented car, knocking the bumper off, or the inability to get any kind of report from the higher ups (who all happen to be white Europeans), but suffice it to say, my advice is to stay away from eBay and timeshares. It ‘s not for me and my peeps.

Keep the faith y’all.

All God's Promises are Yes!

I'm really thinking more and more about the simplicity of a clinic at Malanga.One of the peacekeepers sent me an article on Malaria and medications. Seems the guy involved in it is a friend of hers. Then another peacekeeper and I chatted about the clinic idea. She's stationed in Nairobi, and she could totally get the vision and finally a 3rd peacekeeper came in and told me she had a couple of week off from internship (and believe it or not does not just want to sleep which I could totally understand). Her mother is already in Tanzania teaching and speaks swahili (something I haven't mastered). So I brought up the idea of getting a grant for both sites in Tanzania and Kenya and she was delighted.

I find that I usually have to be ready to totally give up on this project before it becomes clear what needs to be done. I am finally clear on the businesses and how Kiva can help us and have another peacekeeper to help me with that. And the idea of the clinic is going to involve so many of these incredible people that I know it's yes. It started with an email and as I give more and more of this over to others, it just gets better and better.
God and I were having lunch the other day and I had to tell Him He really has a great sense of humor. Surrender is hard for all of us, and I seem to be a particularly hard case since I seem to need to learn it on a weekly basis. However, whenever I do get it, it's so peaceful.

So all of you who read this blog, please leave your thoughts and ideas. I do listen and I do learn so much from you.
Keep the faith y'all

I have a dream too!

Sorry I wasn't clear on this one. The movie Lillian Child of AIDS that I have wanted you to see is posted on my facebook page. Please view it so you can understand how important it is to get clinics on the school grounds.
You probably have to paste this in your browser to see the video.
http://www.facebook.com/video/?ref=sb#/video/video.php?v=17226829075
You need to go to the facebook listing to see it. They think it's too long for this space. However, after watching it for a long
time it dawned on me that I had been making a false assumption about why the children are not tested or treated. It's not because the meds are expensive, it's because they can't afford the transportation to the clinics! That's when I talked to a couple of folks working over there about the idea of having a clinic on school grounds once a month or more. If we had it on school grounds, the children could come and be tested, they could get vaccinations, mosquito netting, and medications for the ever present diarrhea, malaria and other fungal infections.

Did you know that 400 children a day die in Kenya from diarrhea and malaria? So it's not going to help to feed them if we can't keep them healthy. But here's the really cool thing, we could have some of our parents sell their crops, or our dress making business take orders right there while people are waiting. I'm really stoked about this idea.

We're hoping to work with Kiva to administer the loans, since we can't do it all. But the idea is that small entrepeneurs would borrow money for a business and then set them up on clinic days at the schools. They would tithe a certain amount to our feeding programs. I'm hoping it works. I already know one enterprising woman who could surely teach it to other women. And Shani the Massai chief is amazing in his dreams.

So keep the faith y'all, we'll get there one day.

Lillian Child of AIDS Kenya


I'm back to my abbynormal self. I've been working on this film all weekend. You
need to turn the sound up on your computer. This was filmed from 2004-2005.
It's a sad film, not because of the ending, but because of the conditions that
a person with HIV must undergo in Kenya and elsewhere in Africa. The drugs are
now free, but the transportation to get them is not. So it can cost a person
half a month's pay just to travel to the clinic to get them.

Lillian's mother makes about 1000Ksh per month.In the film she describes the
fees to take the the bus to Homa Bay, it costs them 600ksh. That would leave
the family with 400ksh for the month. As the mother says "It is a struggle
my dear". It did touch the heart of one person over here.
The government doesn't help with these fees. Now think what a
grandmother who is caring for a bunch of orphans does with no money coming in;
How do you look into the eyes of a child and know you can't help them? Maybe
it's one of the reasons no one wants to test the children.
It is only one of the struggles of the children in my village.


I return in a couple of months. I am anxious to get there. It has been far too
long, but I suspect I will understand the wait better after I return. Please
do me a favor and let me know what you think of the film.

Ok and the post script to all of this is that you have to use this link to see
the film, because only OurStage will let me have a 13 minute film. And Blogger
will not let me put in a link so you can click it. So please paste it into
your browser until I get more technically savy. If you do and register at Our
Stage we get $1. Thanks
http://www.ourstage.com/mystuff/WEOQARMYFKFP

Come Meet the Fabulous People Who Helped Make Harambee So Successful. And If you missed
the party come next year.!!!

No Big Deal

You know it really wasn’t a big deal this cancer/surgery thing. I’m a bit stunned by it all, because they really scare you. Everyone told you and me it was going to knock me out or that it hurts so much can’t walk for weeks, but that didn’t happen. I’m fine and back to my old tricks. We even had bevies on the roof on Sunday.

I think the deal is fear and faith. I think the folks who get overwhelmed with fear get knocked out in surgery. I was waiting for the anesthesiologist before surgery and I had this really warm soft feeling of being ok no matter what happened. I didn’t have a vested interest in the outcome. I was so clear on this one, that whatever was pre-ordained for me was ok, right to living or dying. That may sound weird but it was a great feeling.

So now I’m back to trying to figure out how to get the folks in Kenya to get me their records in correct fashion on time. Ah yes, the paper battle. I wrote up a new spreadsheet and sent it to Charles. He made some revisions, but I am confused since he asked for templates they already have. It reminds me of when I tried to get younger daughter to eat peas, not happening. I have asked for the assistance of Shani, an amazing Masaii chief who is here in the U.S. He totally gets American business ethics and frankly may be of great help in working with the villagers.

When I was recovering, my pastor came over and we talked about the different business ethics of the continents. With Americans business means a level playing field, in Europe it’s the rights of workers…and in Africa it’s always family first. So it seems to me I need a person like Shani who doesn’t worry about offending the Luhya but is loyal to One Village and sees the broader picture. I’m kind of curious to see how Charles reacts when he gets my email with Shani cc’d on it. I’ll let you know.

Keep the faith y’all.

FWI

Sorry, I forgot to check in with y'all after I saw the Wizard Weds. The cancer is contained and all I have to do is go back every 3 months for him to check it out. Yee Haw! So I'm hoping for gym privileges in a couple weeks and then on to Kenya.
Thanks for all your kind words and prayers. Now let's focus on the real stuff, getting those folks to send me the records.

Happy Pride this weekend.Bevies on the roof at 2P on Sunday. All are welcome.
MM

NoLie

I'm definitely doing better. The Wizard called several times to see how I was doing, even leaving his personal Owl for transmission of messages (read the guy left his cell phone number!)I was smitten. He said the labs didn't show anything out of the ordinary, but I was still having sweats and shivers and then a neuron exploded and I called the travel clinic. Yeah, Malaria, of course. So that's all under control and I start back in business on Thursday. (Weds. is Wizard day, remember it used to be Prince Spaghetti Day, but the Wiz tops this one.)

I just have to share this letter I got from Bluc Cross. I know, so many of you deal with insurance, hell, I couldn't live with out Margaret my billing secretary, but this totally took the cake as the funniest thing I have ever gotten from an insurance company. I know my friends and family will all be greatly relieved that they approved my admission for inpatient FOR CANCER FCS!But they did warn me that they might not in the future. Ok, so here's the letter, No lie.

Dear Member,

After careful review by the Clinical Cooination Department of Blue Cross Blue Shield of Massachusetts, I am pleased to inform you that the request for hospital services made on your behalf has been approved.

Place of Service: Inpatient Acute Care Hospital

Type of Service : Surgery

I'd like to remind you that your hospital admission must be medically necessary and may vary depending on your specific condition. We will work with your physcian while you are receiving hospital services (Do you think I get to bank the days I didn't use? Ha)

Also, in order to receive benefits during your hospital stay you must remain eligible for coverage and the coverage must stay in force (What am I going to do since the bill is paid?) The nature and level of benefits available to you are specified in your Subscriber Certificate (which of course everyone reads when they are about to be sliced open). Blah blah blah

Sincerely,
Mark Dichter
March Dichter M.D
Physcian Review Unit
BCBS

I must say I find his last name rather appropriate. Ah yes Mother M is feeling better.
Keep the faith y'all and the roof should be open for some bevies this weekend.