Check Your Complaints at the Door

I just have a few things that I have been thinking about while here lately, so instead of putting up three different posts, I’ve thrown them altogether, let me know your thoughts.

True Perseverance

If there is one word to describe the people of Kenya it is perseverance. Every day I see another example of it and am truly impressed by the hard work, determination, and care for what these people do without a single complaint. There is much to be learned from the observation of just one person during their daily pursuit to make a living and provide a healthy household for their family.

It comes from seeing the elderly woman walking down the street with at least 6 huge sacks filled to the brim with whatever grain she is selling that day. She has one in each hand, one on her back, two on her head and ropes tying others in whatever places there are left. It is watching the men pull a cart filled with tons and tons of cartons, which could very well be filled with bricks by the way the beads of sweat look as they drip down their faces. He pulls and pulls up the hill and over the speed bumps along the way. Then it is from the children who wake up before the sun and start the journey to school each and every morning in order to get a good education, many not even eating a meal to start the day. It is like Walter (the community health worker I wrote about in one of my first posts) who does his amazing work of empowerment and outreach every single day, not sure if he will get paid for it or not, but willing to do it trying to ensure that a meal is on the table for his six children, without the help of his wife who has passed away.

These are the daily models of strength and perseverance that will help create a stronger Kenya. The NGOs, government organizations and all the aid in the world can try to do what it can, but it is the people on the ground that will make the real difference in the country.

Running Through Eldoret

So I’ve been going for a run each morning just to feel somewhat in shape while I’m here and to justify the twenty pounds of Indian food that we’ve been eating lately (seriously the best Indian food I’ve ever eaten in my life; I think the waiters are starting to recognize us). One morning when Lauren and I went out we met up with four Kenyan runners, two girls and two guys, randomly. We were running in front of the pack the whole time we were with them which I thought was pretty exciting. Here I am running along four real Kenyan runners and I’m actually leading the pack! Then one of the girls asked Lauren what time it was and she said 9am, so Lauren asked her how long they have been running for. She responded with, an hour and a half. So they’ve been running for 90 minutes while we just started and I was all proud that we were running alongside them. Oh well, I will still be happy that for a whole 2 km I was running along what could be legit Kenyan runners, and I’m sticking with that story.

Some other great running quips involve all the animals that I get to run alongside of. If it is a completely normal morning I will have a herd of cows walking on the road while I run by. It is also normal if one of those cows decide to walk in the middle of the street and cut me off. Then there are goats to another side and chickens crossing the road – why do they do that? There will be sheep at some parts, and then of course the remnants showing that all these animals were once there. I think I might miss this once I’m running down 16^th St or along Connecticut Ave in DC and there are just annoying tourists to hop around instead of a rooster getting in my way.

Market in Kisumu

So there are many of you that not only anticipate spring for its warmer weather but because of your love of the farmer’s markets (you know I’m looking at you Julia). Well during my time in Kisumu, it was like everyday there was a farmer’s market. We just had to walk down the street to pass by every fruit and vegetable that we could want. We would get the freshest foods we could find at every corner. We would get tomatoes and onions from one woman and then a huge pineapple, mangoes, and bananas from the next. Most people who sold the food were older women who would sit on the sidewalk and lay out all their goods for everyone walking by to see. The oranges would be stacked delicately, 3 on the bottom and one on top in the middle, the hot peppers would be placed in specific bundles, and every grain you could imagine would be stuffed into huge sacks all lined to pick from.

Most days we would walk down Kenyatta highway (it’s called a highway but it’s just a big road where most of the cars travel on) and we would pay 20 bob for a bushel of one thing and 50 bob for another. After spending what might be close to 3 or 4 dollars we would have enough fruits and vegetables to last for awhile. We would go back to our favorite stands for certain foods, like our pineapple lady, but otherwise we would just pick and choose along our walk. One of the most interesting moments was when we wanted to buy sukumawiki (also nicknamed skuma and is like a type of kale that I will absolutely miss in the States) and there was a small girl who was selling the food for her mother while the other child was sitting in the chair with her machete chopping the skuma into tiny bits in a big bowl. I’m thinking most kids we know don’t get introduced to a machete until they are a bit older. The girl who we bought it from was a trip too because she had her little apron on with all her money inside wheeling and dealing with her customers taking 40 bob from one and giving out 20 bob of change to another. Teach them young, it’s good.

I will remember these people when I go home. They are very strong individuals who work from sunrise to sundown, just sitting on the side of the road, no comfy chair to recline in or posturepedic whatcha-ma-callit to help them through the day. There is no clean up on aisle three just because a cow walked by and decided to, well, you know. They just hope they receive enough money to feed their family and will sit out there until it happens. And there are a LOT of them. It’s not that there are two or three women selling tomatoes and another three selling onions, there are twenty or thirty women selling each of these items, hoping that the people passing them buy their food instead of their neighbor. There is no complaining of course though; this is what they know and what they love. Ask anyone and this is the good life; we must all think about that the next time we complain about the air conditioning in our tidy offices failing because it’s easily 80* at its coolest out here in Kisumu. I am truly impressed by all those who do this work, and will continue to cherish the time I can just walk down the street and pick up my skuma for 10 bob (12 cents) and call it a day.