Christmas Day in Budalang'i

I spent Christmas Day here in my village of Budalang'i, primarily with the Mango's, my host family. It was a fairly low-key event, but it was enjoyable as they are very good people. We basically spent the day chatting and eating at the house, before heading into town a bit later in the afternoon.

Most families slaughter a goat to mark the holiday. Brothers of John, my host father, carve up the goat as my host mother Angelina and host niece Okampo look on.

Myself, host sisters Mevans and Mercy, 'mama' Angelina, 'baba' John, and brother Peter. Mevan's young daughter Okampo is striking a pose down in front. Angelina and John have another son and daughter, but were away for the holidays.

Kenya's Complicated Political Culture

A NARC-Kenya political rally on Wednesday, December 19th, within Budalang’i market center was well attended.  

There is a reason why my entries from Kenya have largely been devoid of discussions on local culture, especially when you compare them to those from Mali. It is not that my interest in culture has waned. Rather, it is difficult for me to pick out any real noticeable differences from America. Most of Kenya, and the Abanyala people of Bunyala in particular, have adopted a largely western lifestyle, phasing out many of their traditions.

Any discussion of modern-day Kenyan culture must begin and end with politics. After having lived in Mali for nearly two years, where no one in village ever really engaged in a serious political discussion, this is in many ways refreshing.

In Mali, there is such a grave disconnect between the government and its people. Village life is by-and-large unaffected by the political powers in Bamako. Regardless of whoever won any election, rural Mali never saw any changes. No new roads, no electricity, no infrastructure, nor stable water supply.

In the days following the coup d’état, the events in the country were only topically discussed. It was a political transformation in the most extreme sense, but it was still only worth a mention. The consensus was that it was not a big deal. Things would sort itself out in Bamako, and there would be no ramifications in village no matter how things proceeded. Imagine the contrast in sentiment if the government of Kenya collapsed. Or America.

Transitions...

My major role in Budalang’i thus far into my service has been to serve in basically an advisory role in reforming my host organization to ensure that it can work into the future. It has proven to be a difficult task, and these past couple of months have seen several changes within our organization.

There were two major critical issues I raised with the Board of Directors during a meeting held on October 17th. One of these issues is an inability to continue to provide services which the community now relies upon the organization to provide, such as flood rescue and relief. This is due to the issue of lack of 'organizational knowledge' from prior projects resulting from a reluctance of prior staff to turn over project-related documents to those remaining in the organization. We have made slim, if any, progress on this matter, and I do not fully understand why it has been so difficult. But it is clear to me, this issue must fall on the board to resolve. I have been unable to get anywhere. Being an outsider likely does not help.

But really the most critical of issues was the lack of staff. At the time, our office was only staffed by a volunteer office assistant named Wilfrida, who had only started work a month before I arrived, and had no knowledge or experience in the organization's operations (She is highly motivated and I am confident that she is capable of much more, but she has yet to be given an opportunity for real work, and I hope to make sure she gets that opportunity in the future). Without staff, there can be no work, even if we address the 'organizational knowledge' problem.

Therefore, following the meeting we soon posted a job advertisement for a Programme Officer on voluntary terms. Without funding available to pay staff, applicants were tough to come by. We actually only received one applicant, a young man in his early thirties, before the two-week deadline passed.

The applicant certainly left some question marks, but he seemed reasonably qualified and worth giving a chance. But being a local, the chairman of the board new of him and had some concerns. I convinced him that we just needed staff, and unfortunately we couldn’t afford to be too picky at the time being. We don’t have to entrust him with a lot of responsibility up front. Since we aren’t paying, lets give him a chance, and if he proves himself, we keep him on. If not, we can let him go. No harm, no foul.

My Malian Education: The Lesson of 'Yala Yala'

This is one of my favorite spots to 'piga story', as they say in 'Kiswahili.' This phrase literally means 'beating the story.' I spend time most afternoons chatting with friends outside of Ben's 'duka' (retail shop), often gathered around a man known simply as 'Fundi.' 'Fundi' means an artisan/craftsman. This particular 'Fundi' is a cobbler, repairing old shoes already well past worn. Note the chalkboard leaning against the wall, which advertises the English Premier League soccer matches a television hall just behind this building will be airing for the week.

‘Yala yala’ is a 'Bamanankan' word. I may no longer be in Mali. I may now be regularly speaking another language, ‘Kiswahili’, and learning a fourth, ‘olunyala’, but I have yet to come across another word in any language which better encapsulates the practice. Which is fitting, since it is a habit I learned and adopted into my everyday life during my time in Mali. To ‘yala yala’ is to walk about for no particular reason, simply to wander and chat with people.

Pictured above are my 'Wamama wa Sokoni' (my mothers in the market). They gather here each day to sell 'omena' (small fish) and vegetables, sitting outside of the new market structure currently under construction. I like to sit with them and chat, mostly practicing my Olunyala, which has really helped me learn the language. Many of them, on account of their gender and age, have a lower level of education and feel more comfortable speaking their native language. They have taken to telling any visitors 'Mikey ni kwangu' (Mike is our kid).

Earning My Sea Legs: Bunyala District - Furthest South of the River Nzoia

Fishing boats line the shore of Osieko Beach Tuesday afternoon, most fishermen having returned to shore for the day.  

On Tuesday, Laurence and I returned to sea to make our final stop of our tour of Bunyala District, the village of Osieko. This time, mercifully, the waters of Lake Victoria were exactly what I had expected prior to our trip to Bulwani. They were absolutely calm. We apparently just had the misfortune of picking an exceptionally bad day last week for our travels.

Osieko is the farthest location in Bunyala District, and thus required the biggest time commitment of our travels. The ferryboat took about one hour to reach Osieko after travelling through the Ndekwe River, the Yala Swamp, and Lake Victoria from Mabinju Beach. The return boat, however, was much slower, taking twice as long. The main problem we faced was that boats only run during the morning hours, so this trip necessitated an overnight stay at a hotel in the village.

But we were at least able to wake up to some good news Wednesday morning. An entrepreneur in Osieko has constructed a television hall; a long structure with mud walls, a metal roof, and a projection television. People normally pack the place to watch Premier League football, but Wednesday morning our attention focused upon live coverage of the US presidential election. Needless to say, all Kenyans were very excited as the results came in.

Through Swamp, River, and Sea: Bunyala District - Even Further South of the River Nzoia

This post on performing my community needs assessment is going to take a different form from the others. In short, it necessitates it. Our journey to Bulwani in many ways overshadowed the information we gathered during our discussions with the villagers. So below is a narrative of how the trip transpired…

A view from our boat as we circumnavigated the Ndekwe River within the Yala Swamp, just outside of Mabinju Beach.

A Foiled Attempt 

On Wednesday, Lawrence and I biked from Budalang'i, crossed the River Nzoia by ferry boat, and continued onto Mabinju Beach. There, we met a man who had helped to arrange a private boat for us to take through the Yala Swamp along the Ndekwe River, across Lake Victoria, and finally through a small waterway leading to the village of Bulwani.

We had told him to be ready for us at 7AM, despite knowing that we wouldn't arrive until thirty minutes later. Naturally, when we arrived, they still weren’t ready for us. The boat which was supposed to be there for us, a boat owned by the government, never arrived. Instead, they ended up raising the price on us severely to rent a different boat and engine.

It wasn’t until 8:30AM that we finally headed out onto the River Ndekwe, but the engine had problems right from the start. Our driver would pull the crank of the engine, and it either wouldn’t catch, or would hold an idle for a few seconds before dying out. As he kept trying, we ended up further into the swamp. But eventually, he couldn’t get any power from it, and had to use a single paddle to bring us back to shore.

Life in the Swamp: Bunyala District - Further South of the River Nzoia

Due to the shortage of staff at my host organization, my plans to tour the entire district to assess the various needs of the community had been tabled for the time being. We are still in the process of seeking applicants for a new position. But in the meantime, my friend Lawrence has generously offered to accompany me until he leaves to work on the biometric voter registration process in another district ahead of the upcoming elections in March.

Our first stop together, where Austin and I had left off, was to visit the villages of Rukala, Runyu, and Nandehe Beach on Monday. Reaching the village of Rukala requires crossing the River Nzoia by ferry boat, then crossing a small bridge over the Ndekwe River and the Yala Swamp.

Up until this point, I had visited many villages who battle the forces of nature on a regular basis, whether it be the threat of annual flooding, the inability to construct necessities like 'vyoo' (latrines) due to a high water table and weak soil, or inadequate drinking water. But visiting these areas, spending time with the villagers, I could see possible rationalizations for choosing to settle here. These areas felt comfortable, accomodating. They felt like any other simple, rural community, and with an inviting coastal breeze. Land is generally more fertile than those found upland.

But Rukala and Runyu were the first places I've been to on these trips which I just could not find any redeeming qualities. These villages are basically situated on low-lying islands, just a little higher than the surrounding Yala Swamp. But the more fitting way to describe them is that these villagers live in the swamp, not near it. The narrow strips of 'higher ground' which people have settled on are directly adjacent to the swamp lands, with no real buffer zone. This results in an unimaginable convergence of all kinds of problems.

People have lived here for a long time despite the problems. It is their ancestral land. Why their ancestors chose such a difficult place to settle, God only knows. Maybe it was the fertile farmland, when flood waters from the swamp don't threaten to destroy them. But one thing is for sure, resettling these people would be a difficult task, given their lack of sustainable sources of income to purchase land elsewhere, as well as people's hesitance to leave the land of their ancestors.

During most of my community visits, the nationwide teacher’s strike had meant that schools were closed. But with their opening, I have been able to begin visiting schools to speak with their administration.

Pictured above is Budala Primary School in the village of Rukala. Their only source of water is an open shallow well, and they currently have no means of water treatment. Also, there is a major shortage of ‘vyoo’ (latrines), especially considering that most are full anyways due to the high water table. Because of its location by the swamp, mosquitos are a major problem, and the sandy soils harbor jiggers, a nasty insect which infest the children’s feet. The jigger infestation is difficult to control, even more difficult to eradicate, as it spreads rapidly. But most of the schools in the district seem to have health clubs, which provide an avenue for working with them in the future.