Still Alive!

Again I must apologize for the dearth of timely posts. I started a long, detailed post about Kenyan politics last week, but just haven't had time to finish it with the kind of research I think it deserves. That is on my "To Do" list for this week. While I'm at it, I will also apologize for the lack of pictures in this entry...its really word heavy. Anyways how have you survived two weeks without the harrowing tales of my adventures?! Haha. Somehow I've been quite busy and often running around, but little of it seems blog worthy in retrospect.

On Monday, January 11, Kenya held their first presidential debate, which was a big deal as Kenya heads into the polls to elect their fourth president on March 4, 2013. I will go into this much more in depth in my next entry, but suffice it to say that Kenyan politics (watching politics, talking politics, and thinking politics) has played a large role in my last two weeks. As we head towards the elections, there is definitely a tension...not always at the forefront but often simmering under the surface.

As you may know (or will find out if you keep reading my blog!) the last presidential elections, held in 2007, were marred by accusations of corruption and the single worst period of violence since Kenya gained its freedom 50 years ago. As the next election rolls around, people are nervous, but hopeful. There has been a lot of dialogue about Kenya having "learned its lesson" and coming together to put aside tribal boundaries that have divided in the past so that they can move forward in peace and prosperity, as one country. The phrase "umoja pamoja," or "united together," come up often on radio, TV and billboard adverts. I hope that it proves to be true.

On Tuesday, March 19, the US State Department and Embassy hosted a Town Hall Meeting at the ambassador's residence to discuss elections. Theresa and I ended up leaving work early and driving over to see what their thoughts were. First, the ambassador has some pretty sweet digs. Beautiful, huge house in Muthaiga, a ritzy section of town (many diplomats live in Muthaiga and Gigiri). We parked the car, as directed, down the street at a country club, and then hopped aboard a shuttle to take us up to the residence. On the shuttle, we met two crazy and hilarious old American ladies who had been in Kenya for many years. They said the most off the wall stuff, and kept Theresa and I entertained for hours. For example....

On the way to the parking area, I noticed that after every speed bump (and there are many on Kenyan roads) there was a single ear of maize laying on the street. Like a NORMAL PERSON I assumed that a truck with a flatbed full of maize had driven down the street before us, and since their cargo was unsecured, they lost some each time they bumped over a speed bump. However Golden Girl 1 was concerned that they might "be bombs" or "trigger bombs." As Theresa said, "Um...seriously. We are on our way to the US Ambassador's house. This is like an airport. You don't just talk about bombs." True story.

Just as we were about to pull out of the parking lot, we were joined by Golden Girl 2, who (we later learned) is actually named Anne. Anne has lived in Kenya for over 35 years and has two grown children with her Kenyan husband. She was HILARIOUS, and we sat with her through the whole event. Anne's stories ranged from talking about her friend who worked for the Iranian embassy and was held hostage during the Iran Hostage Crisis to tales of her daughter passing dead bodies as she walked down the street in the village she was staying in after the last elections. While obviously neither of these topics were funny in and of themselves, it was the delivery and the absolute randomness of timing that made Anne classic. Also her face when we said we did curriculum design, her snide comments during question and answer ("This guy must be Kenyan. He likes hearing the sound of his own voice." or "That's supposed to be a rose garden? It looks like a cemetery. I think they need a new gardener.") and general devil may care attitude. Also, her repeated statement of obvious facts...with a twist. Like on the way back to our cars, when she looked out the window and said "Look at this crew over here, loitering. They look homeless. [pause] Oh...its a bus stop." Magic.

Overall there wasn't a lot they could tell us, but they DID offer tasty refreshments and some helpful hints for preparing ourselves and our homes. I would guess there were about 200-250 people in attendance, which represents only a small portion of the estimated 15,000 US citizens in Kenya (both tourists and residents). One of the most interesting portions of the afternoon was when the Counselor for Political Affairs asked that everyone who had been here during the post election violence of 2007-2008 raise their hands. About 50 people's hands went up. Then he asked how many people, just out of curiosity, had been here during Kenya's first presidency, which was 40+ years ago. Nearly 20 people still had their hands up. It was impressive. As Anne said, "I came here on a two year contract and never left." I guess that happens a fair amount.

Preparedness handouts.

In general, the recommendations were to stockpile enough stuff so that you could shelter-in-place for 72-96 hours, and have a "go bag" ready in case of serious emergency resulting in a need to evacuate your area. If anyone wants those complete lists, just drop me a line and I'd be glad to send them along. Overall, the mood and predictions are one of cautious optimism. Pack your bags and collect your supplies, even though we are hopeful you won't have to use them. Prepare for the worst, but hope for the best. At this point, there are no credible threats indicating that Americans/expats are in any more danger than anyone else, which is also good. Mostly they advised common sense ("We need you to work with us to keep you safe. Drive away from the road blocks. Walk away from the demonstrations.") and said they would do everything in their power to keep us updated and aware of how things were going. The embassy's power is somewhat limited ("We have 8 Marines on staff at the embassy...but it turns out they are there to protect the classified material and not us. We cannot dispatch Marines if you need help. We will work to coordinate the local emergency response to attend to your needs. I'll let that sink in for a minute. The police will come...if they have car available. If that car has gas. Etcetera.") but I did leave feeling like there is someone watching out for all 15,000 of us and that plans are in motion (that we'll never know about, hopefully) in case something goes wrong.

That being said...D and I are leaving for the elections. After learning that my job really has no contingency plan for foreigners and doing a lot of research into what exactly went on after the last elections and how that would potentially impact us, we decided that I'll just take a few days off, and she will use the rest of her medical leave, and we will consider this an opportunity to travel and relax before coming back and getting down to business. We are going to Barcelona for a week, and I am super pumped. Her dad is flying out from the US and meeting us, and we have a pretty amazing itinerary planned (including, but not limited to: a hot air balloon ride, spending a day driving around Spain eating and drinking, a day trip to France and Andorra, and walking tours that show off the amazing architecture of Barcelona). ALSO, I am flying over to Mallorca for a day to visit Johnna, one of my oldest friends, who has been living there for a few years. I am so very much looking forward to this trip! And I am very hopeful that we can return to a peaceful, united country after we are done.

Beautiful day for a museum visit.

As my last little bit about politics, yesterday I went to a free screening of a recently released Kenyan film, Something Necessary, at the Nairobi National Museum. It was fantastic.

It is a story of a woman whose life is shattered by the post election violence of 2007-2008, and one of the boys who helped perpetrate it. Anne is a Kikuyu woman, who is married to Steve, a Kalenjin man, with whom she has a son. [It is worth noting that some of the worst violence in the aftermath of the last elections was in central Kenya, between members of the Kikuyu and Kalenjin tribes.] In the days after the election, a gang of unemployed Kalenjin youths (bankrolled by politicians) come to Anne and Steve's farm to attack because she is Kikuyu. Steve is killed, Anne is raped repeatedly, and their son is injured and falls into a coma. The house is partially burned, and badly damaged. 

The story follows Anne as she tries to rebuild her life, and Joseph, one of the youths who feels extremely guilty about what they did that night, and tries to redeem himself by helping Anne. It is a well written, beautifully acted story. As the prologue says, "The characters are fictional. The story is not." The director uses real news footage, and events to make the story feel very real and very emotional. Be forewarned that it includes scenes of violence, blood (one of the mzungu girls fainted during a scene with blood and had to be carried out  of the theater!), and sometimes heartbreaking emotion. I cried multiple times. But, it also includes light moments, some of which I got, some of which only had Kenyans laughing at some reference that was lost to the foreigners, and in general you just have to trust me that it is really good and worth it. If you currently live in Kenya, it is playing at the cinema at Junction Mall, and I strongly urge you to go see it. I ran into two of D's friends after the show, and one of them said that he thinks the movie should be shown before the second presidential debates tomorrow night. I think it would be a very sobering reminder of the weight that comes with important decisions like the one Kenyans are asked to make in a week.

It was also cool because Walter, the guy who played the male lead, Joseph, in the movie, was there to answer some questions afterwards. I definitely look forward to attending more of these events, sponsored by the Kenya Museum Society in the future! After the screening, I walked around in the museum briefly, and then went out to their gardens to just enjoy the gorgeous weather and read until Paul came to collect me. Even though I wasn't feeling well yesterday (damn you Friday night Pizza Inn for making D and I both sick!) and I wasn't thrilled about going to the screening alone, I am really glad that I did.

Gardens behind the museum.

Let's see, what else has been consuming my life? Ah yes, for a while there it was looking at new apartments. I know, I know, I just posted the tour of my current apartment and now I'm looking for a new one? Yes. This apartment has problems that I am just getting tired of. Some are small (like the ceiling falling down) and some are big (like the seriously awful water situation, and the torturous commute) and we are at the end of a lease, so now is the time to look. 

Oh, did you think that was hyperbolic? The ceiling is actually falling down. This is just one area...it rains plaster constantly, and in all rooms.

We spent most of last Sunday travelling around and looking at about 8 apartments in various Nairobi neighborhoods. We found one we thought we liked, but then after talking to some people who live in the area it turns out it wouldn't really be much better than where we are now. Right now we've put it on the back burner until after our elections trip, but it is something that has taken up a lot of time (and thought) over the past week or so.

In POSITIVE news, I got my work permit! It is the most anti-climactic thing ever. 

To review, this is my pretty Korean work permit.

And the decent Kenyan visitors permit.

What is this shit? It looks like my Kenyan work permit was composed by an 8 year old!

BUT, the good news is that now that I have it, I am officially a Kenyan resident. This means that I get DRASTICALLY reduced rates when I want to go to a national park (literally about a sixth of the price, each day) or go camping, or whatever. Safaris, HERE I COME.

Speaking of safaris, D and her mom as out at the Maasai Mara this weekend, enjoying a deluxe safari. They had originally planned the weekend with one guy, but that fell through (long story) and I am super thankful that Sammy, one of my classmates from Harvard who is Kenyan and has great contacts within the safari industry, was able to coordinate everything on Friday so that they could go this weekend. I kept trying to explain to her mom that I could totally see how she didn't love Kenya since she was only in Nairobi the past 2.5 weeks, but that it was impossible NOT to love Kenya once you get out of the city. I'm happy she has a chance to fall in love with this country, like we did, and see why D wants to stay here. Sammy is kind of my/our hero!

Since they are out of town, this has been a pretty quiet weekend. I slept gloriously late yesterday and today, relaxed, watched some West Wing and Game of Thrones, read, and got out of the house for a bit. Yesterday it was the movie screening, and today I am going across the street to the theater where a community group is ding an original musical, Rohio and Juliet, which is a Kenyan re-telling of Romeo and Juliet. It is supposed to be good, so we'll see. Once again, I'll be going solo.

I've had some tough times this past week with homesickness and culture shock. It has been a bit of a struggle, truth be told. It kind of all crystallized on Wednesday, when I had a troubling experience. Paul had picked me up from work, and we were taking an unusual way home because we were swinging by to take a look at the potential new apartment about 10 minutes from our current one. We drove down Ngong Road, one of the major arteries in the city, and then went down a side street to avoid some traffic. Soon after we turned, there was a person laying on the side of the road, groceries spread around as though they had been dropped, who appeared to be having a seizure. Their body was convulsing, and they had saliva coming out of their mouth and onto the ground.

Weeks ago, I had been warned on the Nairobi Expat Social group on Facebook, that this was a common con used in the Ngong Road area. People pose like this, and then when cars stop they carjack them, or when people stop to help while walking, an accomplice picks their pockets or holds them up. I knew this. And still...it wrecked me. It upset met on a few levels, which I am still trying to articulate. First, I was just really sad. I bawled that night when telling my mom, I cried again while relaying the story the next day at lunch, and a third time when telling the Dena the story the next evening. At first I was just sad. Because what if it were real? I am SO the perfect mark for that con, because I would always, always, always stop. Without question. Even though, as my mom said, there isn't much you can do for someone having a seizure other than to protect their head when they fall, and this person was already on the ground. No matter. I would stop because no one should have to come out of a seizure alone, on the side of the road. 

And then I was sad because I know that even if that person was faking it, there is someone something similar has happened to that was ignored because of that person. And I was sad because knowing, positively, that I could not stop, regardless of whether it was real or fake, was just a very very real reminder that I'm "not in Kansas anymore" and now I live in a place where I have to be more cynical, more hard, and more critical. It makes me sad that I have to form that shell, that I have to get desensitized to other people's suffering, because I don't WANT to be that way. I want to continue to immediately empathize with others, and find ways to help them. But I can't be that way in Kenya. Not until I know all the facts. And that kind of sucks.

Then I got angry. Like really angry. Angry that someone would take advantage of people who want to help others. Angry that its just accepted here. When we drove down the same road on Friday and I asked Paul if he had seen the person, he said "No, I didn't see him, but I know that guy. He does that all the time." That pisses me off. And yes, I know that desperate times call for desperate measures, and this guy is probably doing what he needs to do to make ends meet and nothing is ever black and white but damn, I'm ANGRY about that. I guess I'm going through the textbook stages of grief or whatever, but I think I have a ways to go before acceptance.

And I am no stranger to culture shock, believe me. I went through it in Korea, and I know that the first few months are always the worst, and that things get better. In fact, earlier this month I sent a long message to my friend Kristen, who moved to Korea just after I moved to Kenya, all about culture shock and how you just kind of have to ride it out. It was only this week, when talking to my mom, that I realized that I should really take my own advice. I have posted the relevant sections of the message below, so I can remember to listen to my own words, and in hopes that it might help someone else out there:

One of the things you'll have to learn quickly if you want to spend any sort of long-term time living abroad is to let go. I mean that in a totally non-condescending way, and it probably doesn't feel like that now because you're so caught up in it, but it's true. You have to learn to step back and say, this is not how I (or perhaps any other American) would do things, and I hate it, but there is no way I am going to change thousands of years of culture and traditions....no matter how ASS BACKWARDS they may seem to me.

There are some days that are just a little frustrating (buses that didn't come, directions that were wrong, people who didn't follow through with what they said or promised) and then there are days that make you break down in tears with your mom on Google Video Chat, fantasize about packing up and leaving, and sit down to have a real soul-searching chat with yourself about whether or not you can mentally handle another year. The worst times are, without a doubt during the first few months. Your system is in total shock: different time, different foods, different language, different people, and different beliefs. You have to trust me that it gets better. Humans are incredible at adapting...I mean, come on, we used to be amoebas. And now we have arms and legs and can do all sorts of exciting things! Hahah.

One thing that I have really learned about my adult self is that it takes me about 2 years to truly make friends. The kind of friends that will be in my life forever. I found lots of great people during my first few months/year in Seoul, who were game to go on a trip that I organized or grab a meal after work, but it wasn't until I had been there about 10 months that I found the people who would drop everything if I needed something (and vice versa) and knew that the best cure for a bad day was venting over board games or multi-story beers. Once you find those people (and I hope that you can find them soon!) things get immensely easier.Living in a totally foreign place is one of those experiences that you can really only GET if you've done it. There really isn't any experience like it. And soon enough, you will learn how to work the system. In the beginning you may feel nervous and uncomfortable, but then you'll come to terms with the fact that you are living in a different world now, and you have to adapt in order to survive and remain sane.  

I have learned so much during my time spent living abroad. But perhaps one of the things I learned most frequently and most in-depth, was how to be flexible beyond my (and my friends' and family's) imagination. I learned to let go of some things that I had been raised to think were very important, and accept that the rules and policies and beliefs that govern and motivate different cultures are vast and almost incomprehensible until you're IN it.And that's part of what makes you grow and mature and change the way you look at things, which are all totally positive side effects of all the challenges and frustration.

And truly, truly, living abroad has been a great experience for me. You will have bad days, but (if you're doing it right) they will be far outweighed by the incredible, memorable, wonderful experiences that you'll have that you could have never had at home. I promise you that. 

So, I guess my advice is to stick it out, because though it sucked to miss that bus, or trip, or get let down by someone who you thought you were on the same page with, those memories are far and away drowned out by the morning walks in a misty tea field, or watching the sunset over the city from the top of Seoul tower, or notes from your kids asking you not to go back to America, or getting swept up in the excitement of a festival. Find your support system, know that it is okay to vent and bitch because you have to let that poison out of your system or it will eat you away from the inside, and find exciting/positive/entertaining things to do that remind you of why it is so freaking cool that you live in ASIA/AFRICA/WHEREVER now. That feeling of awe...it doesn't go away. Sometimes you get used to it, but then something will happen (and it won't always be major, sometimes it will be as simple as looking around you on the subway one day) and all of a sudden you're hit, full in the face, that you are leading an incredible life, and experiencing things most people will never get a chance to. And suddenly the shitty days are worth it.
 

Whew. And there you go. That's my goal in two parts: find my support system and go exploring to remind myself of all the POSITIVE aspects of not being in the US anymore. Here's to hoping it works.

(And that, my friends, is how you turn 2 weeks of "nothing blog worthy" into 7 pages of text, hahah.)