SOrry all!
Super busy, more soon, have to pack and move today, but pictures of my new house--taken right outside my door, in the meantime!
\okay and tried to upload them but it's taking forever....so sorry to be a tease, but check back soon!
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
And score.....
So today I went to the Kenya National Theatre-- Kenya's biggest theatre just to do some research on the theatre scene in Kenya. I've been trying to visit as many theatres as possible just to get a feel for the landscape.
So I go there wanting to talk to someone in the role of an "artistic director," but it's impossible to find out who such a person might be beforehand and like, make an appointment, so in true African style I just go. I walk in, and just ask the first person I see for the artistic director and they give me a blank stare, so I'm like, "um, anyone who deals with theatre." They point me across the street and say I might find the manager, whatever that means, there. So I weave through a bunch of offices until I find a door that says "manager." I go in, and just say, "Hi, I'm a director from America, and I am directing here and doing some research and I'd like to speak to the manager." See this is my new tactic. Don't say anything about "student," just say "American Director" and see what people do. So the secretary goes in to this office and comes out to say that she will squeeze me in after her meeting. So I wait 20 minutes, which is good because I haven't written any questions for this "interview." Well I scratch some things out and then my turn comes.
I interview her for about 10 minutes about how the theatre works: companies either pay and rent the space (which is expensive), or sometimes they select groups that they give it too for free, but there isn't a residence company, and the season is just decided by what people want to do. She says that there are enough theatre companies who want to rent the space that it's usually pretty full. So we talk about the role of theatre in Kenya and yadda yadda and then she asks me what I'm doing here, and I tell her about how I am directing this ensemble-generated piece with youths in Kibera about issues they face, and without realizing it, I find myself saying "And I think that it would be a really good thing to be performed here." I hadn't even considered that thought before, but there it goes out of my pushy mouth. Well this lady looks me up and down for a minute, and I can tell she is thinking "who is this girl, and how old is she, and what does she really think she's doing..." and then she goes, "Well, why should I let you do that, I assume you can't pay, so why should I give you the space." I take a deep breath and say, in my best sales-pitch, I will convince you voice, "Well I think that this piece is a perfect example of the power theatre can have to educate, which you were just talking about. It exemplifies theatre's ability to create open forums about important issues, it would be an act that would de-stratify this theatre along class lines and I think that performing it here would be an incredibly empowering statement, as well as experience for these talented artists who don't get the recognition they deserve because of their financial status." And she pauses for a looong moment which I squirm and then she starts to laugh. And laugh. And goes, "I like you. You've got some spirit. Okay. When?" And my mouth falls open, and I instantly produce my calender and go, "Friday November 30th." She consults her calender and goes, "November 30th it is. What's this play called?" So I make up a name for our as of yet unnamed and un-started piece, and she goes, "well Ms....." and I go, "Posner, so sorry, my name is Jessica Posner" (I'm like falling over myself I'm so excited, but trying my best to be cool and professional and like this happens to me all the time." She goes, "Well Ms. Posner, come back next week to confirm all of the technical details."
I run out of that office so fast, meet Kennedy who is picking me up, and I tell him and we are just like, WHAT just happened? And I go, "I can't believe I just convinced the National Theatre to let us do our piece HERE!" And he goes, "I can't either!"
So I've got a lot of work to do for the Kenya National Theatre Debut.
So I go there wanting to talk to someone in the role of an "artistic director," but it's impossible to find out who such a person might be beforehand and like, make an appointment, so in true African style I just go. I walk in, and just ask the first person I see for the artistic director and they give me a blank stare, so I'm like, "um, anyone who deals with theatre." They point me across the street and say I might find the manager, whatever that means, there. So I weave through a bunch of offices until I find a door that says "manager." I go in, and just say, "Hi, I'm a director from America, and I am directing here and doing some research and I'd like to speak to the manager." See this is my new tactic. Don't say anything about "student," just say "American Director" and see what people do. So the secretary goes in to this office and comes out to say that she will squeeze me in after her meeting. So I wait 20 minutes, which is good because I haven't written any questions for this "interview." Well I scratch some things out and then my turn comes.
I interview her for about 10 minutes about how the theatre works: companies either pay and rent the space (which is expensive), or sometimes they select groups that they give it too for free, but there isn't a residence company, and the season is just decided by what people want to do. She says that there are enough theatre companies who want to rent the space that it's usually pretty full. So we talk about the role of theatre in Kenya and yadda yadda and then she asks me what I'm doing here, and I tell her about how I am directing this ensemble-generated piece with youths in Kibera about issues they face, and without realizing it, I find myself saying "And I think that it would be a really good thing to be performed here." I hadn't even considered that thought before, but there it goes out of my pushy mouth. Well this lady looks me up and down for a minute, and I can tell she is thinking "who is this girl, and how old is she, and what does she really think she's doing..." and then she goes, "Well, why should I let you do that, I assume you can't pay, so why should I give you the space." I take a deep breath and say, in my best sales-pitch, I will convince you voice, "Well I think that this piece is a perfect example of the power theatre can have to educate, which you were just talking about. It exemplifies theatre's ability to create open forums about important issues, it would be an act that would de-stratify this theatre along class lines and I think that performing it here would be an incredibly empowering statement, as well as experience for these talented artists who don't get the recognition they deserve because of their financial status." And she pauses for a looong moment which I squirm and then she starts to laugh. And laugh. And goes, "I like you. You've got some spirit. Okay. When?" And my mouth falls open, and I instantly produce my calender and go, "Friday November 30th." She consults her calender and goes, "November 30th it is. What's this play called?" So I make up a name for our as of yet unnamed and un-started piece, and she goes, "well Ms....." and I go, "Posner, so sorry, my name is Jessica Posner" (I'm like falling over myself I'm so excited, but trying my best to be cool and professional and like this happens to me all the time." She goes, "Well Ms. Posner, come back next week to confirm all of the technical details."
I run out of that office so fast, meet Kennedy who is picking me up, and I tell him and we are just like, WHAT just happened? And I go, "I can't believe I just convinced the National Theatre to let us do our piece HERE!" And he goes, "I can't either!"
So I've got a lot of work to do for the Kenya National Theatre Debut.
Sunday, October 28, 2007
My New Do
So plaiting hair here in Kenya is a serious issue. And let me tell you, a cultural experience. Bored and unable as of yet to DO a lot, my mom and I were like, well what would be fun and doable here? I know! Let's plait your hair! So 8 hours later here it is... Post responses here!
Some Thoughts
Hello Everyone!
Okay after a bit of a low key week (yes maybe a slight understatement) I am back in action. Still taking it slowish (so don’t freak out mom), but feeling ALIVE again. Maleria is not a fun sickness. I have been forbidden by my mother to “post a dramatic (me? Never!) blog entry” about having maleria at least until one week after I’m entirely cured so as not to alarm you all. But don’t worry. I’m okay. Today was the first day I felt like a human again! And so in about a week when my mom is convinced that I won’t die, I will tell you more.
So what have been I doing while ill? Well mostly sleeping, receiving MANY visitors both in the hospital and at home, working on my project, and reading about other horrible illnesses such as AIDS and other foreign aid disasters. Okay so two books that I really recommend: The White Man’s Burden: how the West has done so much ill and so little to help the rest by William Easterly and 28 Stories of AIDS in Africa by Stephanie Nolen.
Sometimes even after being used to being here, and being far more exposed to most to areas of such extreme poverty I am still sometimes just shocked and overwhelmed by some of the realities of life here.
AIDS and the reality of the incredibly high prevelance, the ever-increasing rate of infection and the economic, social and political devestation wrecked by this pandemic is just one of these issues. SO how did the crisis develop? Here are some thoughts from Stephanie Nolan that I found incredibly illuminating, and I hope you will too. “The idea that the virus had come from Africa, one more disaster from the “dark continent,” was seized upon in the West in the late 1980’s, and many African leaders, sending the racism that lay behind this theory, began to deny that AIDS was a problem, long past the point that their countries were in grave trouble.”
This is perhaps my FAVORITE passage, as it really applies to perceptions of Africa in general. I feel I really relate to this after my own minor health crisis, as dealing with people’s responses to my being unwell in “AFRICA” was interesting, as they were always well meaning, and often quite misguided, to say the least. “There is always a danger in talking about “Africa”—as if it is one place, one country, one homogeneous story. Africa is FIFTY-THREE (my emphasis) countries, many of which are themselves made up of HUNDREDS (again my emphasis) of peoples and cultures. Prosperous South Africa has more in common with France than it does with anarchic Somalia, the deserts of Mali, or the Kibera slum of Kenya. As such, there is no monolithic story of AIDS (or I will add any other sickness or situation!!) in Africa. However there are factors that are common across sub-Saharan African countries, from the legacy of colonialism to the patterns of conflict and migrant labour which had had a direct influence on how the story of AIDS unfolded in the region.”
So you, like I was, may be wondering why Africa? How did the AIDS crisis get to be so devastating here? How is it that by the best estimates some African countries have an HIV prevelance rate of well over 40% of all adults? How is it that, again, by the best estimates it is thought that of all those in Africa infected with HIV ONLY 10% have been tested? How did it become this way?
I think Nolan has some great thoughts. She says, “A great many things made Africa particuraly susceptible to AIDS, some of them innate to the communities where the disease flourished, and many others imposed from outside. The key one is poverty. Put simply, millions of Africans are living with a virus from which they might have EASILY (my emphasis) been protected if they had had access to education about it, or the to the means to defending themselves.” Heartbreaking right? The AIDS pandemic in many ways may have been entirely preventable. However Nolan continues, “A lack of resources led Africans to do things—to sell sex, to stay with a philandering husband, to leave their families and seek work far away—that they might not otherwise have done; this too spread the disease. And the destitution and weakness of many sub-Saharan states crippled their abilities to respond once their populations were infected.”
So where does this poverty come from? Well, welcome the West onto the scene (surprise, surprise…sorry for the cyncisim. I swear, being away from America, I become increasingly disillusioned with Western life and values. Note my post on children.) Well this poverty (as Nolan adds), “Has its roots in the colonial era, when Africa was viewed as one huge source of raw material for the Western powers. As such its economies have been deliberately underdeveloped (I will note, another egregious story), and its peoples kept, often through violent repression, as a sort of indentured work force. The superpowers use Africa as a board in their global chess game, warping politics and development all across the region in their ideological battle and quest for control of Africa’s rich resources (a statement that is ALL too true today…but sorry folks. We will have to talk about that in person when I get home…)
Okay, a little bit on our great Western “let’s help the poor people, but really we’ll fuck them over” schemes… these have had A LOT to do with the spread of AIDS in Africa.
So in the 1980’s there became a lot of Western attention focused on development and poverty alleviation. Massive financial institutions, such as The World Bank and the International Monetary Fund decreed that the most debt-ridden African nations should overhaul their economies, or they would stop sending assistance. This became known as structural adjustment, and although it may have seemed like a good idea at the time it became a colossal disaster. It’s badly conceived user fees denied poor people to whatever health and educational systems already existed—further cutting off access to the minimal infastrucutre. Thus, by the 1990’s, this near century of foreign meddling had reduced much of Africa to a corrupt, conflict-ridden, impoverished mess—at which point rich donor countires refused to send more money to bail African governments out of the mess the West itself had largely created (for more, please read The White Man’s Burden). AIDS emerged as an “African problem” at the height of this donor crisis. So people began to ask, why single out aid for this disease when there is so much “wrong” in Africa? Why is AIDS different than the famines, wars, corruption, shortages of schools, clinics, clean water and dozens of other terrible diseases in Africa? Nolan has quite an eloquent response to such a question. “The difference is that AIDS underlies all of these problems—and it is amplifying the damage even as it undermines the ability to respond. This is because it targets the young, productive generation. It makes countries more vulnerable to political instability and environmental disasters. AIDS is stealing the hard-won gains of the past few decades: lowering school enrollments, productivity, life expectancy, child survival rates and economic growth. AIDS is horribly, inextricably tied to conflict and to famine and to the collapse of states.”
At the end of the day, from all that I have seen, I think that the West ascribes a different value to lives here in African. It’s as if because there are so many “problems” citizens should have correspondingly lowered expectations regarding the length and quality of their lives. It is if as if a dying African is expected, and thus less value is placed on that life. It is as if that dying African is different than a dying Canadian, Brit, European or American. It is as if a dying, sick, hungry African is just normal, so it’s okay. I don’t understand this. How is it that we think that to be infected, to be ill, to be hungry here is somehow less terrifying, less tragic than in the US? The only difference between someone infected here, and someone infected at home is that the person here has had the bad luck to be born in a country that is economically, politically and socially marginalized. The only difference is that they are black, and usually poor and thus their lives can slip away unremarked.
Okay after a bit of a low key week (yes maybe a slight understatement) I am back in action. Still taking it slowish (so don’t freak out mom), but feeling ALIVE again. Maleria is not a fun sickness. I have been forbidden by my mother to “post a dramatic (me? Never!) blog entry” about having maleria at least until one week after I’m entirely cured so as not to alarm you all. But don’t worry. I’m okay. Today was the first day I felt like a human again! And so in about a week when my mom is convinced that I won’t die, I will tell you more.
So what have been I doing while ill? Well mostly sleeping, receiving MANY visitors both in the hospital and at home, working on my project, and reading about other horrible illnesses such as AIDS and other foreign aid disasters. Okay so two books that I really recommend: The White Man’s Burden: how the West has done so much ill and so little to help the rest by William Easterly and 28 Stories of AIDS in Africa by Stephanie Nolen.
Sometimes even after being used to being here, and being far more exposed to most to areas of such extreme poverty I am still sometimes just shocked and overwhelmed by some of the realities of life here.
AIDS and the reality of the incredibly high prevelance, the ever-increasing rate of infection and the economic, social and political devestation wrecked by this pandemic is just one of these issues. SO how did the crisis develop? Here are some thoughts from Stephanie Nolan that I found incredibly illuminating, and I hope you will too. “The idea that the virus had come from Africa, one more disaster from the “dark continent,” was seized upon in the West in the late 1980’s, and many African leaders, sending the racism that lay behind this theory, began to deny that AIDS was a problem, long past the point that their countries were in grave trouble.”
This is perhaps my FAVORITE passage, as it really applies to perceptions of Africa in general. I feel I really relate to this after my own minor health crisis, as dealing with people’s responses to my being unwell in “AFRICA” was interesting, as they were always well meaning, and often quite misguided, to say the least. “There is always a danger in talking about “Africa”—as if it is one place, one country, one homogeneous story. Africa is FIFTY-THREE (my emphasis) countries, many of which are themselves made up of HUNDREDS (again my emphasis) of peoples and cultures. Prosperous South Africa has more in common with France than it does with anarchic Somalia, the deserts of Mali, or the Kibera slum of Kenya. As such, there is no monolithic story of AIDS (or I will add any other sickness or situation!!) in Africa. However there are factors that are common across sub-Saharan African countries, from the legacy of colonialism to the patterns of conflict and migrant labour which had had a direct influence on how the story of AIDS unfolded in the region.”
So you, like I was, may be wondering why Africa? How did the AIDS crisis get to be so devastating here? How is it that by the best estimates some African countries have an HIV prevelance rate of well over 40% of all adults? How is it that, again, by the best estimates it is thought that of all those in Africa infected with HIV ONLY 10% have been tested? How did it become this way?
I think Nolan has some great thoughts. She says, “A great many things made Africa particuraly susceptible to AIDS, some of them innate to the communities where the disease flourished, and many others imposed from outside. The key one is poverty. Put simply, millions of Africans are living with a virus from which they might have EASILY (my emphasis) been protected if they had had access to education about it, or the to the means to defending themselves.” Heartbreaking right? The AIDS pandemic in many ways may have been entirely preventable. However Nolan continues, “A lack of resources led Africans to do things—to sell sex, to stay with a philandering husband, to leave their families and seek work far away—that they might not otherwise have done; this too spread the disease. And the destitution and weakness of many sub-Saharan states crippled their abilities to respond once their populations were infected.”
So where does this poverty come from? Well, welcome the West onto the scene (surprise, surprise…sorry for the cyncisim. I swear, being away from America, I become increasingly disillusioned with Western life and values. Note my post on children.) Well this poverty (as Nolan adds), “Has its roots in the colonial era, when Africa was viewed as one huge source of raw material for the Western powers. As such its economies have been deliberately underdeveloped (I will note, another egregious story), and its peoples kept, often through violent repression, as a sort of indentured work force. The superpowers use Africa as a board in their global chess game, warping politics and development all across the region in their ideological battle and quest for control of Africa’s rich resources (a statement that is ALL too true today…but sorry folks. We will have to talk about that in person when I get home…)
Okay, a little bit on our great Western “let’s help the poor people, but really we’ll fuck them over” schemes… these have had A LOT to do with the spread of AIDS in Africa.
So in the 1980’s there became a lot of Western attention focused on development and poverty alleviation. Massive financial institutions, such as The World Bank and the International Monetary Fund decreed that the most debt-ridden African nations should overhaul their economies, or they would stop sending assistance. This became known as structural adjustment, and although it may have seemed like a good idea at the time it became a colossal disaster. It’s badly conceived user fees denied poor people to whatever health and educational systems already existed—further cutting off access to the minimal infastrucutre. Thus, by the 1990’s, this near century of foreign meddling had reduced much of Africa to a corrupt, conflict-ridden, impoverished mess—at which point rich donor countires refused to send more money to bail African governments out of the mess the West itself had largely created (for more, please read The White Man’s Burden). AIDS emerged as an “African problem” at the height of this donor crisis. So people began to ask, why single out aid for this disease when there is so much “wrong” in Africa? Why is AIDS different than the famines, wars, corruption, shortages of schools, clinics, clean water and dozens of other terrible diseases in Africa? Nolan has quite an eloquent response to such a question. “The difference is that AIDS underlies all of these problems—and it is amplifying the damage even as it undermines the ability to respond. This is because it targets the young, productive generation. It makes countries more vulnerable to political instability and environmental disasters. AIDS is stealing the hard-won gains of the past few decades: lowering school enrollments, productivity, life expectancy, child survival rates and economic growth. AIDS is horribly, inextricably tied to conflict and to famine and to the collapse of states.”
At the end of the day, from all that I have seen, I think that the West ascribes a different value to lives here in African. It’s as if because there are so many “problems” citizens should have correspondingly lowered expectations regarding the length and quality of their lives. It is if as if a dying African is expected, and thus less value is placed on that life. It is as if that dying African is different than a dying Canadian, Brit, European or American. It is as if a dying, sick, hungry African is just normal, so it’s okay. I don’t understand this. How is it that we think that to be infected, to be ill, to be hungry here is somehow less terrifying, less tragic than in the US? The only difference between someone infected here, and someone infected at home is that the person here has had the bad luck to be born in a country that is economically, politically and socially marginalized. The only difference is that they are black, and usually poor and thus their lives can slip away unremarked.
IF i ever have children, why I'd like to raise them here...
So even as I have been laying here with maleria I have realized how much I love this country, and how I really feel that a lot of my life is meant to happen here I have been thinking about how IF I ever have children, I want to raise them here. So I guess this post is not so much about my having children, because that is a looong ways off…but about some amazingly appealing things about Kenya. Kenyan community is so amazing that it defies description. In fact the values that prevail in Kenyan culture as a whole are so incredibly consistent with the beliefs that I have always held near and dear it’s scary.
First of all, a child here is not just the child of the parents, but of the entire community. They are looked after, scolded, cared for, held, played with, and loved by everyone. Babies are passed around from neighbors to neighbors. The terms “brother,” and “sister,” do not just refer to biological siblings but to those friends and playmates that you grow up around, that you live with. Neighboring adults are aunts and uncles, and there is a pervading sense of love here that is unlike anyplace I’ve ever been. Family is extended to those living around you.
Generosity here is just breathtaking. I have repeatedly witnessed children as young as 5 in tattered school uniforms go to buy a snack of chips from a street vendor with their only shilling after school—a snack which they then share with their 12 friends, taking only one chip for themselves. I love that. I love that the universal sentiment here is that you get more by giving away and sharing what you have than by keeping it for yourself. I love that I have grown incredibly self-concious of how entirely selfish we Americans are, and through that growing awareness I really feel that I do not want to raise my children within such an individualistic, every-man-for-himself society. Here, you would never chew a piece of gum in front of others unless you had enough to offer a piece to everyone. You would never buy a snack on the street unless you were prepared to buy and share with everyone you are with. And this is not even because doing so would be rude, but because it would not even be enjoyable to eat if others are not eating.
Furthermore I LOVE that the emphasis here is not on things. In fact, I really feel like all the things that we westerners think we “need” really just get in the way of meaningful human interaction. Here the emphasis is not on which new gadget you need, but on relating to the people around you. Children are entertained by playing together, instead of playstation-ing together. Seeing how happy these kids are playing with just sticks makes me reflect on how so much of American childhood is about needing/wanting that new toy that was on TV yesterday. Every child unavoidably whines about how “well mommy Stacy’s mom buys her this,” or “Hannah’s mom let’s her do this,” and, “this toy is mine and no you cannot play with it” etc. etc. (a side note, I’ve never heard a Kenyan child whine.) It just seems that we are so tied up in these comparisions of material “nessecities.” I hate thinking about my child growing up watching TV, playing Nintendo, and campaigining for the new toy its best friend got from Target yesterday Even the most un-materialistic child can’t help but feel a pang of “I really want that” posh new thing that their friend brings to school to show off (instead of share) the next day. Last week I brought Otieno and all the little kids who live by me and Kennedy in Katwakera 2 tennis balls to play with as a gift. These kids have no “things” to play with, so these were quite a hit. I think that in America, fights would have broken out left and right about who got to play with them first etc. But here, they were shared diplomatically among like 20 kids. Being here I have realize how much happier I am without all that stuff. How living in Kibera with the bare minimum is liberating, preferable to a pent house and to being surrounded by the egregious consumerism that drives daily life in the states. I love that here people talk to each other to pass the time, as opposed to talking on phones, watching TV, listiening to their ipods, etc. etc. I realize how little you actually need, and how having SO much more than you need or can use actually detracts from your ability to enjoy the simple, sheer joys of life.
I love that children here are not babied, nor coddled but treated as PEOPLE as opposed to as children. Their wisdom is valued, along with their honesty. They are given responsibilities. They are expected to participate, and as such their thoughts and opionios are listened to. They look after their little siblings, babies are not treated as if they are breakable, and as such children here are mature beyond their years.
One other very important thing to me about Kenyan culture is how accepting it is. People here are taken at face value. So kids don’t try to conform, to blend in. I was explaining to Kennedy how horrible kids are to one another in middle school (for example) in the states (and how this is basically a universal phonemonon) and he was in shock. That kind of alienation, of purposeful exclusivity just does not happen here. Really. And if it did—well it would be so abnormal that it would be dealt with ASAP—but I truly can’t imagine that even being an issue. I NEVER want my child to be exposed to the kinds of social manipulations and menacing that occurs in American society, and that we allow and acknowledge as NORMAL. Here there are no loners, no outcasts, no child sits alone at lunch—just none of the teenage manipulative bullshit that is unavoidable in the states. I never want my child to feel that something is wrong with them, to question if they are loveable. I want them to be surrounded by acceptance wherever they go. I refuse to put them in situations (like um, SCHOOL, in America) where this simply will not be the case. I think that the difference ihere n the socialization of children, the respect that they show one another (and their parents by the way—I asked about teenage-parent relationships and while of course there are rocks in any parent/child relationship, I was told that kids just really respect all that their parents do for them, they appreciate all the sacrifieces they make so such dynamics are not common or tolerated here) makes it so that kids grow up feeling accepted. Because they are. It’s as simple as that. You can be different, you can be yourself. And that’s fine. That’s just expected. You aren’t viewed strangely, you are just acknowledged. I so want my children to feel that. To grow up without pressures to change or conform or present themself in a different way. I want them to live feeling okay with themselves because they are have never been given reason to think otherwise by their community, or especially by their peers.
I don’t think that any of these problematic traits within American culture are really the fault of parents, or can even be mitigated by “good” parenting. I think that such dependency on stuff, such meanness between children, selfishness, immaturity etc. is just entirely entrenched within our culture, and therefore to raise children who do not face these issues, they must be brought up outside of the US.
Ultimately, I want my kids to know the elation brought by simplicity. I want them to appreciate real, human joys. To feel these. To know what is important. To know, love and appreciate themselves BECAUSE they are known, loved and appreciated by those around them. No matter what. I want them to feel the embrace of a community, to feel that their family is bigger than those that they share blood with. Mostly, I want them to grow up thinking of others before themselves. And sadly, I don’t think that any of this is possible within The United States of America.
First of all, a child here is not just the child of the parents, but of the entire community. They are looked after, scolded, cared for, held, played with, and loved by everyone. Babies are passed around from neighbors to neighbors. The terms “brother,” and “sister,” do not just refer to biological siblings but to those friends and playmates that you grow up around, that you live with. Neighboring adults are aunts and uncles, and there is a pervading sense of love here that is unlike anyplace I’ve ever been. Family is extended to those living around you.
Generosity here is just breathtaking. I have repeatedly witnessed children as young as 5 in tattered school uniforms go to buy a snack of chips from a street vendor with their only shilling after school—a snack which they then share with their 12 friends, taking only one chip for themselves. I love that. I love that the universal sentiment here is that you get more by giving away and sharing what you have than by keeping it for yourself. I love that I have grown incredibly self-concious of how entirely selfish we Americans are, and through that growing awareness I really feel that I do not want to raise my children within such an individualistic, every-man-for-himself society. Here, you would never chew a piece of gum in front of others unless you had enough to offer a piece to everyone. You would never buy a snack on the street unless you were prepared to buy and share with everyone you are with. And this is not even because doing so would be rude, but because it would not even be enjoyable to eat if others are not eating.
Furthermore I LOVE that the emphasis here is not on things. In fact, I really feel like all the things that we westerners think we “need” really just get in the way of meaningful human interaction. Here the emphasis is not on which new gadget you need, but on relating to the people around you. Children are entertained by playing together, instead of playstation-ing together. Seeing how happy these kids are playing with just sticks makes me reflect on how so much of American childhood is about needing/wanting that new toy that was on TV yesterday. Every child unavoidably whines about how “well mommy Stacy’s mom buys her this,” or “Hannah’s mom let’s her do this,” and, “this toy is mine and no you cannot play with it” etc. etc. (a side note, I’ve never heard a Kenyan child whine.) It just seems that we are so tied up in these comparisions of material “nessecities.” I hate thinking about my child growing up watching TV, playing Nintendo, and campaigining for the new toy its best friend got from Target yesterday Even the most un-materialistic child can’t help but feel a pang of “I really want that” posh new thing that their friend brings to school to show off (instead of share) the next day. Last week I brought Otieno and all the little kids who live by me and Kennedy in Katwakera 2 tennis balls to play with as a gift. These kids have no “things” to play with, so these were quite a hit. I think that in America, fights would have broken out left and right about who got to play with them first etc. But here, they were shared diplomatically among like 20 kids. Being here I have realize how much happier I am without all that stuff. How living in Kibera with the bare minimum is liberating, preferable to a pent house and to being surrounded by the egregious consumerism that drives daily life in the states. I love that here people talk to each other to pass the time, as opposed to talking on phones, watching TV, listiening to their ipods, etc. etc. I realize how little you actually need, and how having SO much more than you need or can use actually detracts from your ability to enjoy the simple, sheer joys of life.
I love that children here are not babied, nor coddled but treated as PEOPLE as opposed to as children. Their wisdom is valued, along with their honesty. They are given responsibilities. They are expected to participate, and as such their thoughts and opionios are listened to. They look after their little siblings, babies are not treated as if they are breakable, and as such children here are mature beyond their years.
One other very important thing to me about Kenyan culture is how accepting it is. People here are taken at face value. So kids don’t try to conform, to blend in. I was explaining to Kennedy how horrible kids are to one another in middle school (for example) in the states (and how this is basically a universal phonemonon) and he was in shock. That kind of alienation, of purposeful exclusivity just does not happen here. Really. And if it did—well it would be so abnormal that it would be dealt with ASAP—but I truly can’t imagine that even being an issue. I NEVER want my child to be exposed to the kinds of social manipulations and menacing that occurs in American society, and that we allow and acknowledge as NORMAL. Here there are no loners, no outcasts, no child sits alone at lunch—just none of the teenage manipulative bullshit that is unavoidable in the states. I never want my child to feel that something is wrong with them, to question if they are loveable. I want them to be surrounded by acceptance wherever they go. I refuse to put them in situations (like um, SCHOOL, in America) where this simply will not be the case. I think that the difference ihere n the socialization of children, the respect that they show one another (and their parents by the way—I asked about teenage-parent relationships and while of course there are rocks in any parent/child relationship, I was told that kids just really respect all that their parents do for them, they appreciate all the sacrifieces they make so such dynamics are not common or tolerated here) makes it so that kids grow up feeling accepted. Because they are. It’s as simple as that. You can be different, you can be yourself. And that’s fine. That’s just expected. You aren’t viewed strangely, you are just acknowledged. I so want my children to feel that. To grow up without pressures to change or conform or present themself in a different way. I want them to live feeling okay with themselves because they are have never been given reason to think otherwise by their community, or especially by their peers.
I don’t think that any of these problematic traits within American culture are really the fault of parents, or can even be mitigated by “good” parenting. I think that such dependency on stuff, such meanness between children, selfishness, immaturity etc. is just entirely entrenched within our culture, and therefore to raise children who do not face these issues, they must be brought up outside of the US.
Ultimately, I want my kids to know the elation brought by simplicity. I want them to appreciate real, human joys. To feel these. To know what is important. To know, love and appreciate themselves BECAUSE they are known, loved and appreciated by those around them. No matter what. I want them to feel the embrace of a community, to feel that their family is bigger than those that they share blood with. Mostly, I want them to grow up thinking of others before themselves. And sadly, I don’t think that any of this is possible within The United States of America.
Thursday, October 25, 2007
sorry for the lapse
hey all,
sorry to be a bit MIA. I have maleria, which has been treated and so I am feeling a lot better, but haven't been at a computer.
definately on the mend so not to worry. i'll post more about it all later, but just know that africa is the best place to have it as they know how to treat it, and Nairobi hospital where i was admitted for 2 days is the BEST tropical disease hospt. in the WORLD. they are taking good care of me, although i am glad to be out! Mama Rose is also giving me the BEST care along with Kennedy. My doctor is really good too, and ach day I feel better. As we say here, pole pole ndio muendo, good things heal slowly. But I am healing! Okay now I---have to go get some test results...just didn;t want yall to think I had disappeared.
sorry to be a bit MIA. I have maleria, which has been treated and so I am feeling a lot better, but haven't been at a computer.
definately on the mend so not to worry. i'll post more about it all later, but just know that africa is the best place to have it as they know how to treat it, and Nairobi hospital where i was admitted for 2 days is the BEST tropical disease hospt. in the WORLD. they are taking good care of me, although i am glad to be out! Mama Rose is also giving me the BEST care along with Kennedy. My doctor is really good too, and ach day I feel better. As we say here, pole pole ndio muendo, good things heal slowly. But I am healing! Okay now I---have to go get some test results...just didn;t want yall to think I had disappeared.
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Plea!
Hi All!
I still REALLY need more material. Especially scenes/good material for boys, but anything you have will mean the world!
Thank you!
jess
I still REALLY need more material. Especially scenes/good material for boys, but anything you have will mean the world!
Thank you!
jess
Monday, October 15, 2007
Pictures!
Oh yeah: the pictures.
The 1st: Collins
the 2nd: me and Kyla, one of my best friends here studying Swahili at Kennedy's house.
The 3rd: Kyla and I demonstrating some traditional Wazungu dances such as swimming, the sprinkler, the shopping cart etc. for Kennedy and Collings.
The 4th: Kennedy in our house
the 5th: the house
the 6th: the view from our doorway
the 7th: Kennedy holding our neighbor J.Lo in his room
The 8th: me and my two favorite Swahili teachers Rose and Peter
the 9th: the SHOFCO office in Katwakera(there is another one in Olympic which is outside the slum). This is where we will be creating.
The 9th: A picture of the slum
the 10th: me and Kennedy.
Much to say
Well it's been a very full few days. A lot to write about!
So I will begin with a few days ago. Kennedy and I went to visit Alice's house in Makina Kibera. Alice is the woman who comes to Mama Rose's house to do the laundry and clean, and I've become really close to her. I told her that i want to come visit her and she was in shock she was so excited. So Kennedy and I went and Alcie told us all about her life. She has two children who live up country and to whom she sends money. Then she began to tell us about her husband--which she was a bit hesitant to do at first, presumably because Kennedy was there and I think that generally speaking in African culture (from what I've seen) women don't talk about men--and especially dont speak badly about them in front of another man whom they don't know well. But Kennedy was amazing in how he drew her out, saying that he "didn't midn," and that he knows how African men can often treat their women badly. So Alice, who speaks perfect English began to tell her story about her husband who went to jail, and who she spent all her money to bring him food and get him out, and who left her as soon as he was out in Swahili--just because she felt so comfortable with Ken. It was cool to see. The next day Alice told me that her landlady had seen her with me and had asked "how can a muzungu stand to come here?" And Alice proudly replied that I love Kibera, just like they do. Then she made a bet with her landlady that I will come to spend the night soon, so I am going to stay with her on Tuesday.
Okay but the big thing to talk about is my first night spent at Kennedy's in Katwakera Kibera. So Saturday I tool my Swahili exam--which went really well by the way! I don't have the official results yet but the examiner said that he was really impressed, and I just really feel like I can speak Swahili pretty comfortably, and understand even more. So I walked to Kennedy's by myself after the exam for the first time. Kibera is pretty tricky to navigate because the streets arent labeled and there are a million chutes and alley ways, but I knew that I knew how to get there so I wouln't let Kennedy come and get me as he usually does. So I loved walking there--people just starred at me as I passed in utter confusion, and I heard some people say, "Muzungu, amepotea?" (Muzungu, is she lost?) And I turned around and said, "hapana, najua kwasababu ninakaa karibu na hapa" (no, I know because I stay near here) to which they would just dissolve into laughter because first of all there are no white people there, second of all no white people walking by themselves, and definately no white people who speak Swahili. So I made it to nuymbani kwetu (our house) and had a great talk with Kennedy and Collins--who runs the media department of SHOFCO and is really brilliant as well. We talkmed about what it is that makes me able to and want to live in Kibera, unlike other whites, which I didn;t really have an answer to but have been thinking a lot about. I think its because I really do feel so comfortable with the people there, and that anyone can live anywhere if they want to and if they adapt our western perceptions of the material things which you "need," many of which actually take away from just enjoying the gift of living everyday. After I played with all the kids who are out neighbors who I LOVE. They loved teaching me Swahili, and we also talked about their lives, their families, their world views---I am always in shock about how mature 10 year olds are here. Kids and people in general seem just so much older than their age. One of my favorites, Emanuel told me that I don't look 21 I look 10, and then later told me that i can never leave because he will cry because he loves me. It was so funny because at first all the kids were wary of me, didn't want to touch me etc. After about 30 minutes I felt like a jungle gym with kids ALL over me, we had to take turns so that everyone could get a chance to sit on my lap. Then Kennedy made an AMAZING dinner--he really can cook and we sat and talked for like 6 hours. It was great. The more he tells me about himself the more astounded I am by his vision, his world view, his maturity--I always have trouble remembering that he is 23! Then we fell asleep and I slept so well--I've never felt so safe so comfortable anywhere. I woke up late--to find Kennedy doing the dishes and making breakfast (very atypical African male behavior). I met more people, everyone kept coming over to meet the "Muzungu who speaks Swahili," and I already feel like a really accepted part of the community. Then we then had a great meeting about our project. Here is what we determined, rehearsals will begin November 8th Monday, Wednesday and Friday from 9 am to 5 pm, (on which days we will hire 2 HIV/AIDS women to cook lunch from my project budget) and Tuesday/Thursday 9 am to 1 pm. We will create a piece together about an issue or topic that everyone is passionate about. We will then perform the piece at different villages in Kibera as well as perhaps other places around Nairobi. After this talk, I got to meet a bunch of the youths at the weekly SHOFCO meeting. I have never been more impressed by a group of people. AS Joseph, the SHOFCO chair said, these kids are not only the leaders of tomorrow, but also the leaders of NOW. I had shivers sitting in that room because I know we are going to change so much together. AS i am now done with classes this week I am mostly just going to be around SHOFCO getting to know the kids, going to their houses etc. Everyday I just feel so grateful to get to both learn from and work with such incredible people in such a meaningful way. I loved living in Kibera (and felt super safe for all you naysayers out there--this really is the way to do it--the way to really get to know people and also aspects of myself. This is going to make my work even more powerful.) I can;t wait for my official move-in day: November 7th.
Until then, keep the scenes and monologues coming as class starts next Saturday!
Many thanks and all my L--oh-uu-ve (as it is said here!)
Jess
So I will begin with a few days ago. Kennedy and I went to visit Alice's house in Makina Kibera. Alice is the woman who comes to Mama Rose's house to do the laundry and clean, and I've become really close to her. I told her that i want to come visit her and she was in shock she was so excited. So Kennedy and I went and Alcie told us all about her life. She has two children who live up country and to whom she sends money. Then she began to tell us about her husband--which she was a bit hesitant to do at first, presumably because Kennedy was there and I think that generally speaking in African culture (from what I've seen) women don't talk about men--and especially dont speak badly about them in front of another man whom they don't know well. But Kennedy was amazing in how he drew her out, saying that he "didn't midn," and that he knows how African men can often treat their women badly. So Alice, who speaks perfect English began to tell her story about her husband who went to jail, and who she spent all her money to bring him food and get him out, and who left her as soon as he was out in Swahili--just because she felt so comfortable with Ken. It was cool to see. The next day Alice told me that her landlady had seen her with me and had asked "how can a muzungu stand to come here?" And Alice proudly replied that I love Kibera, just like they do. Then she made a bet with her landlady that I will come to spend the night soon, so I am going to stay with her on Tuesday.
Okay but the big thing to talk about is my first night spent at Kennedy's in Katwakera Kibera. So Saturday I tool my Swahili exam--which went really well by the way! I don't have the official results yet but the examiner said that he was really impressed, and I just really feel like I can speak Swahili pretty comfortably, and understand even more. So I walked to Kennedy's by myself after the exam for the first time. Kibera is pretty tricky to navigate because the streets arent labeled and there are a million chutes and alley ways, but I knew that I knew how to get there so I wouln't let Kennedy come and get me as he usually does. So I loved walking there--people just starred at me as I passed in utter confusion, and I heard some people say, "Muzungu, amepotea?" (Muzungu, is she lost?) And I turned around and said, "hapana, najua kwasababu ninakaa karibu na hapa" (no, I know because I stay near here) to which they would just dissolve into laughter because first of all there are no white people there, second of all no white people walking by themselves, and definately no white people who speak Swahili. So I made it to nuymbani kwetu (our house) and had a great talk with Kennedy and Collins--who runs the media department of SHOFCO and is really brilliant as well. We talkmed about what it is that makes me able to and want to live in Kibera, unlike other whites, which I didn;t really have an answer to but have been thinking a lot about. I think its because I really do feel so comfortable with the people there, and that anyone can live anywhere if they want to and if they adapt our western perceptions of the material things which you "need," many of which actually take away from just enjoying the gift of living everyday. After I played with all the kids who are out neighbors who I LOVE. They loved teaching me Swahili, and we also talked about their lives, their families, their world views---I am always in shock about how mature 10 year olds are here. Kids and people in general seem just so much older than their age. One of my favorites, Emanuel told me that I don't look 21 I look 10, and then later told me that i can never leave because he will cry because he loves me. It was so funny because at first all the kids were wary of me, didn't want to touch me etc. After about 30 minutes I felt like a jungle gym with kids ALL over me, we had to take turns so that everyone could get a chance to sit on my lap. Then Kennedy made an AMAZING dinner--he really can cook and we sat and talked for like 6 hours. It was great. The more he tells me about himself the more astounded I am by his vision, his world view, his maturity--I always have trouble remembering that he is 23! Then we fell asleep and I slept so well--I've never felt so safe so comfortable anywhere. I woke up late--to find Kennedy doing the dishes and making breakfast (very atypical African male behavior). I met more people, everyone kept coming over to meet the "Muzungu who speaks Swahili," and I already feel like a really accepted part of the community. Then we then had a great meeting about our project. Here is what we determined, rehearsals will begin November 8th Monday, Wednesday and Friday from 9 am to 5 pm, (on which days we will hire 2 HIV/AIDS women to cook lunch from my project budget) and Tuesday/Thursday 9 am to 1 pm. We will create a piece together about an issue or topic that everyone is passionate about. We will then perform the piece at different villages in Kibera as well as perhaps other places around Nairobi. After this talk, I got to meet a bunch of the youths at the weekly SHOFCO meeting. I have never been more impressed by a group of people. AS Joseph, the SHOFCO chair said, these kids are not only the leaders of tomorrow, but also the leaders of NOW. I had shivers sitting in that room because I know we are going to change so much together. AS i am now done with classes this week I am mostly just going to be around SHOFCO getting to know the kids, going to their houses etc. Everyday I just feel so grateful to get to both learn from and work with such incredible people in such a meaningful way. I loved living in Kibera (and felt super safe for all you naysayers out there--this really is the way to do it--the way to really get to know people and also aspects of myself. This is going to make my work even more powerful.) I can;t wait for my official move-in day: November 7th.
Until then, keep the scenes and monologues coming as class starts next Saturday!
Many thanks and all my L--oh-uu-ve (as it is said here!)
Jess
Friday, October 12, 2007
random
first of all--THANK YOU from the bottom of the heart to all of you who have already sent me some materials---and thank you to all those of you who are typing away, or thinking of things to send this way! the class starts next saturday--so whatever you can get to me by then would be SO appreciated. Your support and participation means the world...it's so nice to have the people I care about play a role in all of these endeavors!
Secondly, here are some random pictures. Mostly of scabbies, because i realized that y'all probably never get to see what those look like (so these are primarily educational...lol.) And the box of the scabbies medication is hilarious---look at the drawing of the little bugs...ewwwww. The other picture is of my and my dear friend Matt, one of the kids on the program who is one of my two closest (white) friends here...and believe it or not he goes to wesleyan! last night we just studied swahili (exam tomorrow...but i think i am really pretty comfortable with the language!) and just talked....as well as had dinner with my amazing family.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Request!
Dear All,
I have a special request for all you.
Here is the background info first:
Okay, so for school I have been doing some research on film, theatre and music as emerging art forms in Kenya. And one of the major things that I’ve been following has been the Kenyan International Film Festival. One of the highlights of the festival was a film called “The Kibera Kid,” a Kenyan film shot in Kibera, with actors from Kibera that has garnered 7 awards world wide. The star is a 14 year old kid named Ignatius Juma, who today I went to find and interview at his school in Olympic Kibera. I talked to him for over an hour and had an incredible conversation with this really astounding kid (who wants to either be an actor, a lawyer, or the president, and turns out lives really close to where Kennedy and I will live in Katwakera!). We were soon surrounded by about 20 of his friends, and we all soon just began to talk together. They asked me all about life in America—wanting to know if we have slums, if they have electricity, if there are poor people, if you can buy a gun if you want a gun, if abortion is legal, if most people go to high school, and if poor people can go to college…and on and on. We also just talked about their lives, and turns out, they are all really interested in theatre. They all told me that they want to be actors because then they get to imagine that they have “different lives.” So I had an idea…what if the school would just give me a space for like 2 or so hours on Saturday mornings to teach an acting class for anyone who wanted to come…. I asked them what they thought, if they might be interested, and I cannot describe the enthusiasm with which they responded. So I marched right down to the principal, who said that the school would happily give me the schoolyard on Saturday mornings to do with what I want!
Here’s why I need your help:
So I have about 20+ kids who want to learn “REAL [their emphasis] play acting” and I have NO material with which to teach them (I didn’t bring a single play to Kenya, and as for the library and internet…well forget it…no access.) SO I am asking you all if you might take like 10 minutes and type up and email me any monologues or even shortish scenes that you can think of/find. Here is some criteria: can be for either boys and girls, no language, no sexual (or minimal) content, appropriate for ages 10-16, and good for beginning actors—so nothing complicated but again nothing from a BS made-up-monologue-not-real-plays book. These kids have lived incredibly tough lives, and although they are young they are much more mature than their age, so I need to give them credit for that---while at the same time using material that is a) manageable and something that we can really work with (they speak perfect English by the way) and b) culturally appropriate. I’m looking for classics. Great characters. Imagination. Good writing… you know…things you worked on and loved when you were a kid…or just know of…something you yourself have taught….anything you’d want to share with them: Diary of Anne Frank, Brighton Beach Memoirs, Our Town…y’all get the picture as to type of thing I am sure and will send me things that are amazing and that I’d never have thought of on my own. As much as you can send me, it will mean THE WORLD to these kids. I will have anywhere from 20-50, and while many can work on the same piece, my thought was to just expose them to as much variety in repertoire as possible by setting it up so that they watch their peers perform different things…sort of a studio setting. THANK YOU from the bottom of my heart. Email anything to jrposner@wesleyan.edu and I will just print it, and give it to a kid (and I will also tell them who it’s from…I think that might be a really nice small way for them to feel that someone far away thought about THEM, and had them and their interests at heart…actually, if you feel inspired to write anything about the piece you send, your experience with it, it’s meaning to you, or any kind of note/advice…I’d be thrilled to pass that along to the kid as well…you can’t imagine what any of this will mean to these kids who live in the slums of Kibera, and who generally speaking, don’t feel like the rest of the world spends much time thinking or caring about them.) We won’t start until next Saturday, but the sooner I can start assessing what I’ll have to work with…the better.
(Raph, seriously counting on you…can you maybe even ask your friends and maybe you could even ask Moss/Shawn to tell Beginning about this, give them my email, and ask them to send a kid here a monologue…That would be a REALLY cool connection between DSA kids and a kid in Kibera who is the same age! Maybe you guys could each just type and send your scenes from scene night, or one of your audition monologues?!?!?)
Thank you all again. For reading my blog. For your endless support. And for taking a few moments to find something, type it and send it somewhere where it will mean a lot to someone. I can’t even describe to you what it will mean, both to them, and to me.
So much love and appreciation to you all,
Jess
I have a special request for all you.
Here is the background info first:
Okay, so for school I have been doing some research on film, theatre and music as emerging art forms in Kenya. And one of the major things that I’ve been following has been the Kenyan International Film Festival. One of the highlights of the festival was a film called “The Kibera Kid,” a Kenyan film shot in Kibera, with actors from Kibera that has garnered 7 awards world wide. The star is a 14 year old kid named Ignatius Juma, who today I went to find and interview at his school in Olympic Kibera. I talked to him for over an hour and had an incredible conversation with this really astounding kid (who wants to either be an actor, a lawyer, or the president, and turns out lives really close to where Kennedy and I will live in Katwakera!). We were soon surrounded by about 20 of his friends, and we all soon just began to talk together. They asked me all about life in America—wanting to know if we have slums, if they have electricity, if there are poor people, if you can buy a gun if you want a gun, if abortion is legal, if most people go to high school, and if poor people can go to college…and on and on. We also just talked about their lives, and turns out, they are all really interested in theatre. They all told me that they want to be actors because then they get to imagine that they have “different lives.” So I had an idea…what if the school would just give me a space for like 2 or so hours on Saturday mornings to teach an acting class for anyone who wanted to come…. I asked them what they thought, if they might be interested, and I cannot describe the enthusiasm with which they responded. So I marched right down to the principal, who said that the school would happily give me the schoolyard on Saturday mornings to do with what I want!
Here’s why I need your help:
So I have about 20+ kids who want to learn “REAL [their emphasis] play acting” and I have NO material with which to teach them (I didn’t bring a single play to Kenya, and as for the library and internet…well forget it…no access.) SO I am asking you all if you might take like 10 minutes and type up and email me any monologues or even shortish scenes that you can think of/find. Here is some criteria: can be for either boys and girls, no language, no sexual (or minimal) content, appropriate for ages 10-16, and good for beginning actors—so nothing complicated but again nothing from a BS made-up-monologue-not-real-plays book. These kids have lived incredibly tough lives, and although they are young they are much more mature than their age, so I need to give them credit for that---while at the same time using material that is a) manageable and something that we can really work with (they speak perfect English by the way) and b) culturally appropriate. I’m looking for classics. Great characters. Imagination. Good writing… you know…things you worked on and loved when you were a kid…or just know of…something you yourself have taught….anything you’d want to share with them: Diary of Anne Frank, Brighton Beach Memoirs, Our Town…y’all get the picture as to type of thing I am sure and will send me things that are amazing and that I’d never have thought of on my own. As much as you can send me, it will mean THE WORLD to these kids. I will have anywhere from 20-50, and while many can work on the same piece, my thought was to just expose them to as much variety in repertoire as possible by setting it up so that they watch their peers perform different things…sort of a studio setting. THANK YOU from the bottom of my heart. Email anything to jrposner@wesleyan.edu and I will just print it, and give it to a kid (and I will also tell them who it’s from…I think that might be a really nice small way for them to feel that someone far away thought about THEM, and had them and their interests at heart…actually, if you feel inspired to write anything about the piece you send, your experience with it, it’s meaning to you, or any kind of note/advice…I’d be thrilled to pass that along to the kid as well…you can’t imagine what any of this will mean to these kids who live in the slums of Kibera, and who generally speaking, don’t feel like the rest of the world spends much time thinking or caring about them.) We won’t start until next Saturday, but the sooner I can start assessing what I’ll have to work with…the better.
(Raph, seriously counting on you…can you maybe even ask your friends and maybe you could even ask Moss/Shawn to tell Beginning about this, give them my email, and ask them to send a kid here a monologue…That would be a REALLY cool connection between DSA kids and a kid in Kibera who is the same age! Maybe you guys could each just type and send your scenes from scene night, or one of your audition monologues?!?!?)
Thank you all again. For reading my blog. For your endless support. And for taking a few moments to find something, type it and send it somewhere where it will mean a lot to someone. I can’t even describe to you what it will mean, both to them, and to me.
So much love and appreciation to you all,
Jess
My interview with Ignatius
I interviewed Ignatius Juma, star of the film “Kibera Kid,” age 14 at his school Little Prince Primary School, in Olympic Kibera. Ignatius is a 14 year old, native Kiberian (he currently resides in Katwikera) who recently starred as the title role in the Kenya International Film Festival’s acclaimed “Kibera Kid” (one of the films receiving the most print attention). I went to his school, Little Prince Primary School in Olympic Kibera, at which he is a standard seven student, to hopefully find, and interview him. Born in the rift valley, Ignatius is a Luhya, and a Christian who now lives in the slum with his mother and five younger siblings.
Ignatius began acting in 2002 (throughout our interview he continually made specific reference to dates) in a play at his school. His first role was as Pinocchio in an adaptation of the Disney story. He says that he loved “how you can imagine that you are somebody else, and how you can pretend to live someone else’s life.” He has never taken a formal acting class, however is a playwright, and very much likes writing stories and plays about, “people who do things that they love.”
One day in 2005 he was playing soccer with some friends in a field in Katwikera when a Muzungu came by who said he was a film director, and asked if any of the boys could sing. Many of the boys sang for him, including Ignatius (who says he felt fear of the Muzungu, but did it anyways) who was chosen for the title role in the film “Kibera Kid.” However, at the time, Ignatius says he didn’t really know what he was going to be doing, as the guy just told them he needed someone to sing. When he found out it was a film he was so excited. He said his teachers, “really supported me because they knew I could act. Now, in the school, I’m known as an actor!”
The film took nine days to shoot, working from 6 a.m.-6 p.m., and during 4 of the days Ignatius was very sick, but he asserted, “I don’t think that anyone who sees the film can tell!” During the process, the actors were not paid, but given food. Ignatius says that he always thought, “if you act in a movie you get very rich,” which wasn’t the case, but he says the film has really changed his life in other ways. Before he shot the film he loved movies. He watched many movies from the US and Nigeria whenever he got a chance (his favorite actors are Arnold Schwarzenegger, Aram Sinoa (Nigerian) and Desmond Eliot--also Nigerian,) however he had never seen a Kenyan film, and in fact did not think that such a thing existed. He says that whenever he watched these movies from abroad he would wonder if, “I will ever get a chance to do that too…”
Well he got his wish. His role in the film has made Ignatius a symbol of hope for the Kibera community, as well as changed many facets of his own life. To date, “Kibera Kid” has won 7 awards world wide, including awards in Bali, LA and Ignatius has personally received awards from the Kenyan Award for “Best Actor in a Film,” as well as the Kampala Film Festival Award for “Best Actor in a Film.” He says that he has, “become much more popular,” and recounted his amazement when he watched the film as it was screened at the French Cultural Center surrounded by all of his classmates (his entire grade attended). He said that, “almost all my age mates, well they couldn’t believe that you can live in Kibera and do that.”
However the impact of this experience extends far beyond popularity. First of all, the Kibera Kid’s story is very personal to Ignatius. The “kid” faces many hardships, poverty, hunger, and hopelessness—in addition to an abusive mother. Ignatius says that he was really “just acting out my own life experience. Like at first my mom wasn’t very happy about the film. My mom, well she was very harsh to me when I was young, but that was just a normal thing. And when I got this movie, well she didn’t ever really think that I could do something like this. But I knew that I couldn’t give up on this chance because I knew that if I lost this, I would lose everything.” Now he says his mother is very proud of him, and that the whole community has rallied behind him and his family because they, “really liked seeing a movie about their own lives. And they feel very proud that I am in it, because now they think, maybe I can do more than I thought I could too.” Ultimately, Ignatius hopes that this film will “not only help people in Kibera by more world wide awareness, but also maybe help people in another slum to have hope.”
In the future Ignatius hopes to “take what I’ve learned and be able to sometime act in a movie again.” However he thinks that just being an actor in Kenya isn’t a feasible living. His friend chimes in to say, “it’s a special job.” and another one adds, “and the Kenya movie industry, well it’s just starting out.” Ignatius adds that now, the only people who can make acting a stable job are comedians on TV shows like “Vioja Mahakamani.” But right now, he thinks that the industry, “has a lot of growing to do. And needs help.” In the meantime, he aspires to be, “an actor, a lawyer, or the president.”
Ignatius began acting in 2002 (throughout our interview he continually made specific reference to dates) in a play at his school. His first role was as Pinocchio in an adaptation of the Disney story. He says that he loved “how you can imagine that you are somebody else, and how you can pretend to live someone else’s life.” He has never taken a formal acting class, however is a playwright, and very much likes writing stories and plays about, “people who do things that they love.”
One day in 2005 he was playing soccer with some friends in a field in Katwikera when a Muzungu came by who said he was a film director, and asked if any of the boys could sing. Many of the boys sang for him, including Ignatius (who says he felt fear of the Muzungu, but did it anyways) who was chosen for the title role in the film “Kibera Kid.” However, at the time, Ignatius says he didn’t really know what he was going to be doing, as the guy just told them he needed someone to sing. When he found out it was a film he was so excited. He said his teachers, “really supported me because they knew I could act. Now, in the school, I’m known as an actor!”
The film took nine days to shoot, working from 6 a.m.-6 p.m., and during 4 of the days Ignatius was very sick, but he asserted, “I don’t think that anyone who sees the film can tell!” During the process, the actors were not paid, but given food. Ignatius says that he always thought, “if you act in a movie you get very rich,” which wasn’t the case, but he says the film has really changed his life in other ways. Before he shot the film he loved movies. He watched many movies from the US and Nigeria whenever he got a chance (his favorite actors are Arnold Schwarzenegger, Aram Sinoa (Nigerian) and Desmond Eliot--also Nigerian,) however he had never seen a Kenyan film, and in fact did not think that such a thing existed. He says that whenever he watched these movies from abroad he would wonder if, “I will ever get a chance to do that too…”
Well he got his wish. His role in the film has made Ignatius a symbol of hope for the Kibera community, as well as changed many facets of his own life. To date, “Kibera Kid” has won 7 awards world wide, including awards in Bali, LA and Ignatius has personally received awards from the Kenyan Award for “Best Actor in a Film,” as well as the Kampala Film Festival Award for “Best Actor in a Film.” He says that he has, “become much more popular,” and recounted his amazement when he watched the film as it was screened at the French Cultural Center surrounded by all of his classmates (his entire grade attended). He said that, “almost all my age mates, well they couldn’t believe that you can live in Kibera and do that.”
However the impact of this experience extends far beyond popularity. First of all, the Kibera Kid’s story is very personal to Ignatius. The “kid” faces many hardships, poverty, hunger, and hopelessness—in addition to an abusive mother. Ignatius says that he was really “just acting out my own life experience. Like at first my mom wasn’t very happy about the film. My mom, well she was very harsh to me when I was young, but that was just a normal thing. And when I got this movie, well she didn’t ever really think that I could do something like this. But I knew that I couldn’t give up on this chance because I knew that if I lost this, I would lose everything.” Now he says his mother is very proud of him, and that the whole community has rallied behind him and his family because they, “really liked seeing a movie about their own lives. And they feel very proud that I am in it, because now they think, maybe I can do more than I thought I could too.” Ultimately, Ignatius hopes that this film will “not only help people in Kibera by more world wide awareness, but also maybe help people in another slum to have hope.”
In the future Ignatius hopes to “take what I’ve learned and be able to sometime act in a movie again.” However he thinks that just being an actor in Kenya isn’t a feasible living. His friend chimes in to say, “it’s a special job.” and another one adds, “and the Kenya movie industry, well it’s just starting out.” Ignatius adds that now, the only people who can make acting a stable job are comedians on TV shows like “Vioja Mahakamani.” But right now, he thinks that the industry, “has a lot of growing to do. And needs help.” In the meantime, he aspires to be, “an actor, a lawyer, or the president.”
Tuesday, October 9, 2007
And this week's diagnosis is....
SCABBIES! that's right folks, Scabbies (google it if you're not sure...) the giardhia has left my system, only to be replaced by a new and improved parasite! I just have to wonder...what will it be next week?!?!
Not to worry though, I only spent 6 hours at Nairobi Hospital today trying to get the doctor to give me the right treatment...after a little pushing and shoving (thank god i am an agressive person, other wise nothing would ever happen here) I left the hospital with a prescription in hand. I then went to 3 pharmacies, only to find that NONE of them have this medicine. Sweet. SO I will plan the rest of the day touring Nairobi's pharmacies, I am going to try to think of it as an alternative sight seeing tour.
Love to you all,
(a very itchy) Jess
Not to worry though, I only spent 6 hours at Nairobi Hospital today trying to get the doctor to give me the right treatment...after a little pushing and shoving (thank god i am an agressive person, other wise nothing would ever happen here) I left the hospital with a prescription in hand. I then went to 3 pharmacies, only to find that NONE of them have this medicine. Sweet. SO I will plan the rest of the day touring Nairobi's pharmacies, I am going to try to think of it as an alternative sight seeing tour.
Love to you all,
(a very itchy) Jess
Friday, October 5, 2007
A great night
Last night was AMAZING. So Gabi came to meet me, and together we were planning to go to Kennedy’s, as he’d invited us both for dinner. So she came and brought Quawme as well as a friend of hers who lives in Nairobi, this amazing guy named Tony. Well turns out (I guess I shouldn’t expect anything less from Gabs—as she is really just a person who glows, and so attracts the same) but Tony turns out to be one of the most thoughtful, contemplative, deep thinkers I’ve ever met. We then met Kennedy, who says he’s taking us downtown for a surprise. He is really one of the most passionate, free, giving, loving, innovative…just amazing people you’ll ever meet. Whenever I am around him I feel inspired, I feel like there is so much that I both can and want to do to change whatever parts of the world I can. Just watching him is really incredible. So SHOFCO was in paper today—which is so exciting. Seeing Kennedy’s pride about what he, a 23 yr. Old from Kibera can too is amazing—as he is so proud of the people he’s worked with. He is also such a thoughtful good friend. So we’re on a bus, and Gabi and I look at each other in one of those moments where you just realize how blessed you are. It was like, we just have incredible people in our lives, around us right now… Anyhow, Kennedy’s so funny…he’s so excited to take us to this place…which he talks to the boys about in Swahili, and when I ask Quawme what he said he tells me he can’t say because it’s a surprise for me. So he takes us to his favorite restaurant where they serve Luao (that’s his tribe) food. It’s in downtown Nairobi, outside…just beautiful. We’re all talking—and I am just truly happy. We eat this AMAZING fish that is served whole---the eyes just stare at you… And talk and talk and talk, the only thing missing was you! God, this table just had such incredible people around it…you would have died…these people just challenge, excite, awe, inspire… So we have a beer, and Gabi reaches for the bill, and goes, “um is this for the food too?” And Kennedy goes, “well I’ve already paid that.” Okay a note here. This is something really hard I think for Americans to understand…it’s hard for me at least. But in Africa, when you, as an American, go to a restaurant with a Kenyan it is assumed that you will pay. This is not in a taking advantage of way at all…it’s just that a) the dollar is really strong, so a meal for 5 people out at a nice place costs about $20 and mostly b) Kenyans just don’t have the money for extras like going out…so they’re only going because they are there with you…but it’s not like at home where going out is like a normal thing at all. So Gabi and I are like, Kennedy, no! You cannot pay for 5 people (as that meal probably cost about 1500 shillings, about $25, and more than an entire month’s rent in Kibera.) So we argue with him, like not in a token way, but in a, we really want to contribute way, and he goes, “No please. I have now a part time job, and I am celebrating being here with people I love. Let me explain. I don’t usually have the means to do this. That is true. And I will say that, as I am an honest person. But now. I am so happy to be here with you and am able to do this, and so doing this gives me great pleasure. It makes me so happy. Please.” And we knew that he was telling the truth…I almost cried. It was just a stunning act of generosity…I told you Kenyans are AMAZING about how they get most pleasure in giving what they have away. Then Gabi and Quawme got on a bus back to Mombasa (I was so sad to see Gabs go, but Kennedy and I are going to go visit Mombasa this month, and she says she will come back in November.) And Kennedy and I took a bus home, talking on the way back about our project. I am always stunned by the depth of his perceptions. He just gets and sees people. He looks at me and goes, “I see so much potential in you. More than you even know. I even see a fear within you of how powerful that potential is. And I know…that what we are doing in Kibera…that will bring out more vision, more courage, more of your spirit than even you know you possess.”
It was a good night.
It was a good night.
Thursday, October 4, 2007
This week
Hello Everyone!
Quite a busy and somewhat tiring week here in Nairobi! I have a lot of studying to do as our cumulative Swahili proficiency exam is fast approaching, as well as other work for classes as well as for the beginning of my project in Kibera…I have a meeting there tomorrow afternoon!
So the first update is that, thanks to Bodo, I (along with 12 other students) have giardhia! The good news is that I got the medication and am feeling much better. There is, however, a really funny story as to how I discovered I have giardhia in the first place. A quick disclaimer: if you are easily grossed out by bodily functions—skip the rest of this story. It’s amazing how, after being in a third world country like Africa, daily discussions about bowel movements are just as normal as talking about what you ate for breakfast…and how long it stays in… (sorry, couldn’t resist).
Okay I am going to now tell you what I think is the hysterical story of how I found out I have giardhia. I apologize if this is somewhat graphic and gross, but deal or don’t read this… as I am telling this story to illustrate a point. The woman who teachers our Field Study Seminar class, a woman who used to teach at Columbia, named Donna, also an American ex-patriate who also happens to be Odoch’s wife (and also one of the funniest, most caustic people I’ve ever met. So sarcastic and hysterical. One of her great lines from today’s lecture: “watch out for MBA’s, they are the enemy tribe.” Which is probably a lot funnier within the context of Kenya’s intense tribalism. But still, funny.) Anyhow, today Donna said it best: “Nothing. I repeat, Nothing works in Africa. Nothing is the same from town to town. Nothing is reliable. Nothing works in Africa. Sometimes this is impossible to understand. I’ve been here 40 years, and let me tell you, that is just the way it is.” She was explaining how sometimes it is impossible for us to understand this phonemenon (you all have to read this book called “Distorted Reality,” so interesting). But it’s really true. Nothing works here. The water is never on, toilets never flush, the cell network is always down, matatus always break down, the power is always out or short circuiting, restaurants don’t have food, time and timeliness do not exist (most people, even in Nairobi tell time by the sun. Donna was saying she has this women’s group that meets once a month at 9 am, and one month, no one showed, and she wondered why…and looked outside and saw it was cloudy…so they thought it was still 7 am. I am serious) nothing ever, ever goes the way you plan. You just get used to this. SO my giardhia story illustrates this pretty perfectly. So first of all—giardhia is a water bourne illness/parasite that unless treated never goes away and results in bad diarriah (sorry I can’t spell), gas, rotten egg tasting burps (I warned y’all) alternating with constipation. Lovely I know. So the other day a few people went to the doctor for various maladies (there is practically a daily excursion to the hospital), and Katie (one of the kids) comes back and makes an announcement to the group saying, “so guys, the doctor says I have giardhia, and that if I have it, most of you probably do too.” So he says that anyone who has diahria (like all of us since Bodo) need to take a stool sample, and GIVE IT to Odoch, who will take it to the clinic so they can do the test, and then we will go get meds. And there is this stunned moment that we’re all just talking about this. And then we’re all like, um, seriously? We collect our own shit and just like…hand it over to Odoch??? WHAT??…so after a moment, when I recover from my lady like shock I go, “um…what are we supposed to put it in?” and we all just burst out laughing, because it’s just so funny that Katie is here making this general announcement about diahria, and that we are seriously supposed to just um…figure it out. Like no collection tube, nothing. So okay…we all go to Naqumat (the grocery store) and all we can find are clear tuppaware round containers. So we get them. And go back to school and (oh my god I cannot believe I am posting this this story in such detail. But I think it’s so funny that a) we just have to talk about this stuff all the time b) its just really absurd and c) welcome to Africa) anyhow…we go back, do our business into our respective tuppoware containers, label them with medical tape, as that’s all we can find, put them into plastic baggies (also clear by the way…can’t find anything else) and pile 12 of us into Odoch’s Isuzu trooper, which by the way breaks down half way to the hospital, go to the clinic, where it takes about 3 hours to run our tests, although we are the only people there…get the confirmation that we all have giardhia and make another trip to the pharmacy, which takes another 2.5 hours. That is really how everything goes.
A better highlight from this week thus far:
This week The Kenya International Film Festival is taking place here in Nairobi, and as a part of the festival the paper advertised nightly outdoor neighborhood showings in “Kibera, Kanguame and Huruma.” However, there are no specifics given as to the location beyond “Kibera,” a big area. This is typical Kenya. Information is VERY difficult to find. Happenings are not listed in the newspaper, or online, and ads almost never have something say like, a phone number that you could call to ask WHERE in Kibera one might go to see the films… Anyhow, as Gabi is visiting I made it my mission to figure out where the Kibera showing was taking place so we could go. Kennedy and I both spent all day calling people, trying to figure out where this was going on…I asked Alice (my friend, who I met because she does my house’s laundry, but she’s great and lives in Kibera), Mary, Odoch, Mama Rose, the Toms…everyone…nothing. Finally, I’m talking to Peter (my favorite Swahili teacher) during a class break about my SHOFCO project (to which he replies, “you’re a cool girl Jessica.” Cool is his word. And believe me, he is Cool (he always wears this swanky black hat…and he’s so funny). So I bring up this mystery screening location and he says, “you know what. I live in Kibera. I’ll take you. We’ll find it.” To which my reaction is “COOL!” So I go and pick up Gabi, and then she, Matt and I meet Peter in Kibera (and he brings a friend of his who started this amazing community organizing center) and we FIND the film. It was so cool to watch this Kenyan film, in this field in Kibera, with Matt, Gabi, Peter and Kennedy who joined us. The film was funny…very baliwood/Nigerian film soap-operaesque. But it was great to see all these kids watching it, and to just be there with such great people. After Peter took us to his house in Fort Jesus Kibera for chai, and then walked us home. Gabi slept over and got to meet Mama, the Toms etc. It was a really good day. Then today after Swahili Odoch took me to The Go Down—the largest arts center in East Africa that houses visual and performing arts (like theatre, dance, music etc.) Turns out, Odoch was one of the founding members of Kuona—the visual arts part. I had a really good talk with Joyce and Judy, the heads of the Go Down, who want me to bring the piece I create with Kennedy and SHOFCO to perform there, assuming the timing works out. That was pretty sweet.
Okay…off to work it is… hope you’re all well, and as always, I really love hearing from you about what’s going on, as well as your responses to all my posts!
Love,
Jess
Quite a busy and somewhat tiring week here in Nairobi! I have a lot of studying to do as our cumulative Swahili proficiency exam is fast approaching, as well as other work for classes as well as for the beginning of my project in Kibera…I have a meeting there tomorrow afternoon!
So the first update is that, thanks to Bodo, I (along with 12 other students) have giardhia! The good news is that I got the medication and am feeling much better. There is, however, a really funny story as to how I discovered I have giardhia in the first place. A quick disclaimer: if you are easily grossed out by bodily functions—skip the rest of this story. It’s amazing how, after being in a third world country like Africa, daily discussions about bowel movements are just as normal as talking about what you ate for breakfast…and how long it stays in… (sorry, couldn’t resist).
Okay I am going to now tell you what I think is the hysterical story of how I found out I have giardhia. I apologize if this is somewhat graphic and gross, but deal or don’t read this… as I am telling this story to illustrate a point. The woman who teachers our Field Study Seminar class, a woman who used to teach at Columbia, named Donna, also an American ex-patriate who also happens to be Odoch’s wife (and also one of the funniest, most caustic people I’ve ever met. So sarcastic and hysterical. One of her great lines from today’s lecture: “watch out for MBA’s, they are the enemy tribe.” Which is probably a lot funnier within the context of Kenya’s intense tribalism. But still, funny.) Anyhow, today Donna said it best: “Nothing. I repeat, Nothing works in Africa. Nothing is the same from town to town. Nothing is reliable. Nothing works in Africa. Sometimes this is impossible to understand. I’ve been here 40 years, and let me tell you, that is just the way it is.” She was explaining how sometimes it is impossible for us to understand this phonemenon (you all have to read this book called “Distorted Reality,” so interesting). But it’s really true. Nothing works here. The water is never on, toilets never flush, the cell network is always down, matatus always break down, the power is always out or short circuiting, restaurants don’t have food, time and timeliness do not exist (most people, even in Nairobi tell time by the sun. Donna was saying she has this women’s group that meets once a month at 9 am, and one month, no one showed, and she wondered why…and looked outside and saw it was cloudy…so they thought it was still 7 am. I am serious) nothing ever, ever goes the way you plan. You just get used to this. SO my giardhia story illustrates this pretty perfectly. So first of all—giardhia is a water bourne illness/parasite that unless treated never goes away and results in bad diarriah (sorry I can’t spell), gas, rotten egg tasting burps (I warned y’all) alternating with constipation. Lovely I know. So the other day a few people went to the doctor for various maladies (there is practically a daily excursion to the hospital), and Katie (one of the kids) comes back and makes an announcement to the group saying, “so guys, the doctor says I have giardhia, and that if I have it, most of you probably do too.” So he says that anyone who has diahria (like all of us since Bodo) need to take a stool sample, and GIVE IT to Odoch, who will take it to the clinic so they can do the test, and then we will go get meds. And there is this stunned moment that we’re all just talking about this. And then we’re all like, um, seriously? We collect our own shit and just like…hand it over to Odoch??? WHAT??…so after a moment, when I recover from my lady like shock I go, “um…what are we supposed to put it in?” and we all just burst out laughing, because it’s just so funny that Katie is here making this general announcement about diahria, and that we are seriously supposed to just um…figure it out. Like no collection tube, nothing. So okay…we all go to Naqumat (the grocery store) and all we can find are clear tuppaware round containers. So we get them. And go back to school and (oh my god I cannot believe I am posting this this story in such detail. But I think it’s so funny that a) we just have to talk about this stuff all the time b) its just really absurd and c) welcome to Africa) anyhow…we go back, do our business into our respective tuppoware containers, label them with medical tape, as that’s all we can find, put them into plastic baggies (also clear by the way…can’t find anything else) and pile 12 of us into Odoch’s Isuzu trooper, which by the way breaks down half way to the hospital, go to the clinic, where it takes about 3 hours to run our tests, although we are the only people there…get the confirmation that we all have giardhia and make another trip to the pharmacy, which takes another 2.5 hours. That is really how everything goes.
A better highlight from this week thus far:
This week The Kenya International Film Festival is taking place here in Nairobi, and as a part of the festival the paper advertised nightly outdoor neighborhood showings in “Kibera, Kanguame and Huruma.” However, there are no specifics given as to the location beyond “Kibera,” a big area. This is typical Kenya. Information is VERY difficult to find. Happenings are not listed in the newspaper, or online, and ads almost never have something say like, a phone number that you could call to ask WHERE in Kibera one might go to see the films… Anyhow, as Gabi is visiting I made it my mission to figure out where the Kibera showing was taking place so we could go. Kennedy and I both spent all day calling people, trying to figure out where this was going on…I asked Alice (my friend, who I met because she does my house’s laundry, but she’s great and lives in Kibera), Mary, Odoch, Mama Rose, the Toms…everyone…nothing. Finally, I’m talking to Peter (my favorite Swahili teacher) during a class break about my SHOFCO project (to which he replies, “you’re a cool girl Jessica.” Cool is his word. And believe me, he is Cool (he always wears this swanky black hat…and he’s so funny). So I bring up this mystery screening location and he says, “you know what. I live in Kibera. I’ll take you. We’ll find it.” To which my reaction is “COOL!” So I go and pick up Gabi, and then she, Matt and I meet Peter in Kibera (and he brings a friend of his who started this amazing community organizing center) and we FIND the film. It was so cool to watch this Kenyan film, in this field in Kibera, with Matt, Gabi, Peter and Kennedy who joined us. The film was funny…very baliwood/Nigerian film soap-operaesque. But it was great to see all these kids watching it, and to just be there with such great people. After Peter took us to his house in Fort Jesus Kibera for chai, and then walked us home. Gabi slept over and got to meet Mama, the Toms etc. It was a really good day. Then today after Swahili Odoch took me to The Go Down—the largest arts center in East Africa that houses visual and performing arts (like theatre, dance, music etc.) Turns out, Odoch was one of the founding members of Kuona—the visual arts part. I had a really good talk with Joyce and Judy, the heads of the Go Down, who want me to bring the piece I create with Kennedy and SHOFCO to perform there, assuming the timing works out. That was pretty sweet.
Okay…off to work it is… hope you’re all well, and as always, I really love hearing from you about what’s going on, as well as your responses to all my posts!
Love,
Jess
Sunday, September 30, 2007
for more info....
For more info about SHOFCO, as well as about Kibera and it's history visit:
http://www.shofco.org/
http://www.shofco.org/
Kibera
Today was, at long last, a day without class or any other obligations. I decided not to go to church…not quite up to watching another woman catch the spirit and begin communicating with Jesus in tongues. So instead I went with Matt (a great guy who, believe it or not, goes to Wesleyan!) to explore the city. We decided to just hop into a matatu, and go for an adventure. We went around to the city center, got a little (intentionally) lost and just wandered through central Nairobi. I love just hopping into a rickety old vehicle, holding on tight (when it’s scary, I just pretend it’s an amusement park ride) and seeing where we end up (as routes/schedules, well they don’t really exist here,) so anyone’s guess is as good as mine as to where you’ll really wind up.
After adventuring with Matt, I met Kennedy in Kibera. I realize I have yet to write extensively, or at all, about Kennedy, SHOFCO, and my project in Kibera. Let me begin by saying that Kennedy is one of the most amazing people I’ve ever met—in just a month he’s become my African brother. We have had the best conversations about the different social norms, our lives, as well as about theatre and its role here…I began communicating with Kennedy through email about 5 months ago via Ma-Yi Theatre Company in the states. Two years ago, after running out of money for college, Kennedy (who is only 23 himself!) decided to, instead of pursing funds to continue schooling in America move to Kibera (the second largest slum in the entire world, and the largest in Africa) to help his people. He moved to Kwatrikera, which is just an area, or village as it’s called of Kibera and founded what is called SHOFKO: the shining hope for the youth of Kibera. At the beginning, SHOFKO used soccer to keep youths off the streets—away from prostitution, drugs, drinking, AIDS, and starvation by both occupying their time, and providing anyone who played with a meal. Soon, Kennedy decided that theatre would actually perhaps be a more effective tool of uplift—so he and a bunch of youths brainstormed the problems of Kibera, and began to observe closely with the intent to both act out these problems, as well as possible solutions. Now SHOFKO has over 80 youths involved, and has also begun what Kennedy calls “The Women’s Empowerment Program” where women, especially those striken with HIV/AIDS make jewelry, which Kennedy then helps them sell in an effort to introduce them to microfinance. After talking with Kennedy, we decided that I will create and direct a piece that I will create in collaboration with 20 of these youths as my major project while here. We’ve begun meeting about the process, as well as about the topic—which I very much want to choose as a group. After our first talks about a month ago it became clear that coming to Kibera each day to do this work and then leaving would not create an atmosphere that was conducive to productive collaboration—as the youths would perceive me as a muzungu outsider, as in a position of unequal power. And so I decided that in order to create collaboratively, I need to live in and with the community with which I’m working. At first, well Kennedy was a bit shocked, as he said that he’s had white friends visit, but don’t think any white person has really ever lived in Kibera. But after thinking it over, he decided that it was the best idea possible—a opinion that was confirmed after he told the youths. The difference in their reception of me after they learned I would live with them only affirmed my decision. Before hand they were dubious—wary of this white outsider who wanted to “help.” After hearing I would like with Kennedy they first reacted with disbelief, and then, with empowered confidence, awe and excitement that I wanted to live with them, that I so wanted their respect and felt that hey, if they can live in Kibera, well so can I. No barriers. No hierarchies. Just people living and creating together. When I came to Kibera today—they were so welcoming, all said how excited they are to have me as one of them, they hugged me and called me their sister, slapped me five, talked my ear off with ideas…it was just incredible. So beginning November 8thn through December 10th I will live in half of Kennedy’s room (it’s a very small concrete room, no electricity etc. in which we will just hang a curtain down the middle) in Katwikera Kibera for a month. I am so excited, so awed by the kindness of the people and the excitement of the youth that I am there excited to work with them, in possession of some knowledge about theatre that they desperately want to partake in, that I’m young (they are ages 16-25), and this brave, and I guess kind of radical white girl. It will be the experience of a life time…I can’t even describe the poverty of Kibera to you. Here, a person can eat on $1 a day, but most are unable to do even that. I felt surprisingly safe there---and Odoch (my program director, and the guy responsible for our safety) has approved the location—and Kennedy (already the protective big brother) says he will never leave my side. But honestly—I really felt that the whole community will envelop me, embrace me and that together we will be able to create and learn so much.
After adventuring with Matt, I met Kennedy in Kibera. I realize I have yet to write extensively, or at all, about Kennedy, SHOFCO, and my project in Kibera. Let me begin by saying that Kennedy is one of the most amazing people I’ve ever met—in just a month he’s become my African brother. We have had the best conversations about the different social norms, our lives, as well as about theatre and its role here…I began communicating with Kennedy through email about 5 months ago via Ma-Yi Theatre Company in the states. Two years ago, after running out of money for college, Kennedy (who is only 23 himself!) decided to, instead of pursing funds to continue schooling in America move to Kibera (the second largest slum in the entire world, and the largest in Africa) to help his people. He moved to Kwatrikera, which is just an area, or village as it’s called of Kibera and founded what is called SHOFKO: the shining hope for the youth of Kibera. At the beginning, SHOFKO used soccer to keep youths off the streets—away from prostitution, drugs, drinking, AIDS, and starvation by both occupying their time, and providing anyone who played with a meal. Soon, Kennedy decided that theatre would actually perhaps be a more effective tool of uplift—so he and a bunch of youths brainstormed the problems of Kibera, and began to observe closely with the intent to both act out these problems, as well as possible solutions. Now SHOFKO has over 80 youths involved, and has also begun what Kennedy calls “The Women’s Empowerment Program” where women, especially those striken with HIV/AIDS make jewelry, which Kennedy then helps them sell in an effort to introduce them to microfinance. After talking with Kennedy, we decided that I will create and direct a piece that I will create in collaboration with 20 of these youths as my major project while here. We’ve begun meeting about the process, as well as about the topic—which I very much want to choose as a group. After our first talks about a month ago it became clear that coming to Kibera each day to do this work and then leaving would not create an atmosphere that was conducive to productive collaboration—as the youths would perceive me as a muzungu outsider, as in a position of unequal power. And so I decided that in order to create collaboratively, I need to live in and with the community with which I’m working. At first, well Kennedy was a bit shocked, as he said that he’s had white friends visit, but don’t think any white person has really ever lived in Kibera. But after thinking it over, he decided that it was the best idea possible—a opinion that was confirmed after he told the youths. The difference in their reception of me after they learned I would live with them only affirmed my decision. Before hand they were dubious—wary of this white outsider who wanted to “help.” After hearing I would like with Kennedy they first reacted with disbelief, and then, with empowered confidence, awe and excitement that I wanted to live with them, that I so wanted their respect and felt that hey, if they can live in Kibera, well so can I. No barriers. No hierarchies. Just people living and creating together. When I came to Kibera today—they were so welcoming, all said how excited they are to have me as one of them, they hugged me and called me their sister, slapped me five, talked my ear off with ideas…it was just incredible. So beginning November 8thn through December 10th I will live in half of Kennedy’s room (it’s a very small concrete room, no electricity etc. in which we will just hang a curtain down the middle) in Katwikera Kibera for a month. I am so excited, so awed by the kindness of the people and the excitement of the youth that I am there excited to work with them, in possession of some knowledge about theatre that they desperately want to partake in, that I’m young (they are ages 16-25), and this brave, and I guess kind of radical white girl. It will be the experience of a life time…I can’t even describe the poverty of Kibera to you. Here, a person can eat on $1 a day, but most are unable to do even that. I felt surprisingly safe there---and Odoch (my program director, and the guy responsible for our safety) has approved the location—and Kennedy (already the protective big brother) says he will never leave my side. But honestly—I really felt that the whole community will envelop me, embrace me and that together we will be able to create and learn so much.
Saturday, September 29, 2007
Mombasa
After leaving Bodo we went to Mombasa, the second largest city in Kenya, where we stayed in guesthouses for four days. Mombasa is an incredibly interesting city—as the majority of its citizens are Muslims. I was awoken each morning my the dawn call to prayer, and this chanting could be heard throughout the day. As it was Ramadan, most food shops were closed during the day—and instead stayed open late at night. It felt almost like being in a Middle Eastern coastal city. The buildings are mostly whitewashed, almost everyone you pass is dressed in traditional Islamic apparel—and many women are wearing the full higab. It really felt like another world. While there we broke the Ramadan fast with Jamal and his family at his home—his wife had made about 25 dishes, toured around the city, hung out and visited a school for children with cerebral palsy and autism (which was so sad, as the school was so so poor,) visited an AIDS orphanage (also sad) and had a few lectures about Swahili Coastal culture, in addition to continuing Kiswahili. I liked Mombasa, but in many ways prefer Nairobi. Mombasa is first of all, hot. And second of all, I felt more heckled on the street by men than I ever feel in Nairobi—which I think because in Mombasa whites are even more of an oddity. I feel like in both cities you have to adopt a hard front—you have to embrace the New Yorker within and walk purposefully, alertly and essentially radiate a message that says “you don’t want to mess with me.” Perhaps I feel this more acutely in contrast to the village… Anyhow, the highlight of Mombasa was seeing Gabi, one of my best friends from home who is now there on a research grant. I met the family she is living with in Likoni, a part of Mombasa and fell in love with her sisters Cynthia, Queen and Molly, as well as with her dear friend and translator Quawme. Just such good people. It was wonderful to see Gabi, and I was able to go with her on one of her interviews. She is researching the way in which Kenya’s development policies impact street vendors, and has been working with several of her subjects since she herself was an SIT student a year and a half ago (on the Mombasa program). She has also set up a scholarship fund that pays for 6 children of street vendors to go to private school. Here in Kenya there is a huge gap in public and private education. It is said that if a 10 year old who has gone to public school switches to private they will not be caught up until they are 12, a pretty massive difference. So we talked with Mama Someu, one of Gabi’s long time subjects who has five children, and owns and cooks in two cafes in order to have a prayer of feeding and schooling her children. I was so moved by this woman’s story. I saw with Gabi, holding Mama Someu’s youngest, a six-month-old boy (the cutest baby I’ve ever seen I might add) while Gabi asked questions and Quawme translated. Gabi’s scholarship sends Mama’s second oldest daughter to school, and helps pay for two others. This woman works all the time, and makes between 50 and 100 shillings a day (64 to a dollar), thus constantly struggling to feed her children and paying little by little for their schooling. She has no husband, and one of her cafes is in the quarry, where the purchasers do not pay with cash, but with stones, which Mama then has to sell to people who buy the stones—quite a physically taxing process. To boot, her oldest daughter, who runs the café in town hasn’t been coming home, has been lying about where she is, refuses to go to school and has been missing for the past four days at the time I spoke with her. At this, Mama Someu just broke down and began to sob—as the assumption is that the girl is off with a boyfriend, and in Likoni in such cases…it’s only a matter of time before she is pregnant. It was incredible to get to hear her story, as well as see Gabi in action. Later, Gabi took me home for dinner where she, Queen, Cynthia, Molly and I made dinner, and had the best time. Like I said—people here just take you in as their family. Afterwards, the girls Quawme, Gabi and I went out (thus the pictures on the ferry) and had a ball at a crazy African club—dancing the night away together. Gabi is coming to Nairobi with Quawme and Queen (who lives here!) tomorrow for the week and we’re going to go see a rugby game, some theatre, and just hang out! I can’t wait. I feel so at home here, and it’s great to be back in Nairobi, home with Mama Rose—who missed me a lot. And although I had such amazing experiences—the feeling was mutual.
Here are some pictures!I think now I've figured out how to rotate them---sorry about the others!
From top to bottom:
left: a mosque, one of the many in Mombase, right: me drinking the most AMAZING avocado juice--Gabi introduced me and I'm hooked!
next row left: me and Gabi, right: me, Gabi, Queen and Cynthia cooking dinner
next row: us on the ferry about to go out! left to right: molly, cynthia, queen, gabi and me.
last row: left to right--Queen, Gabi, Quawme, me and Cynthia.
Here are some pictures!I think now I've figured out how to rotate them---sorry about the others!
From top to bottom:
left: a mosque, one of the many in Mombase, right: me drinking the most AMAZING avocado juice--Gabi introduced me and I'm hooked!
next row left: me and Gabi, right: me, Gabi, Queen and Cynthia cooking dinner
next row: us on the ferry about to go out! left to right: molly, cynthia, queen, gabi and me.
last row: left to right--Queen, Gabi, Quawme, me and Cynthia.
More pictures from Bodo
Again, from top to bottom:
the village at night
the village
from left to right: my dad,my mom, me, fatuma mkubwa
left to right: mom, fatuma, me, my friend isha
the village
the village
me in my classroom!
me with a baby on my back
me with Alfani and his little brother
a crocodile i saw
a dance party to the drummers at mama pole's
the drummer boys
more party
me and subhiti
my grandmother
me with bakari, saidi and the rest of my entourage
the soccer game
the team picture after the game
my backyard
our courtyard
our house from the front
my mom and my dad
the village at night
the village
from left to right: my dad,my mom, me, fatuma mkubwa
left to right: mom, fatuma, me, my friend isha
the village
the village
me in my classroom!
me with a baby on my back
me with Alfani and his little brother
a crocodile i saw
a dance party to the drummers at mama pole's
the drummer boys
more party
me and subhiti
my grandmother
me with bakari, saidi and the rest of my entourage
the soccer game
the team picture after the game
my backyard
our courtyard
our house from the front
my mom and my dad
Pictures from Bodo
Okay all my apologies for the accidentally repeated picture as well as the sideways pictures--still figuring out how to work this---anyone know how to change that?
Well for now, take what you can get! From top down:
me
a bunch of kids
me
me with my mom (left) and Fatuma Mkubwa (right)
My favorite swimming spot
My mom with Elizabeth's baby in our kitchen
Me with my little friend Rahema
me in front of the train
Sean, Rose (a Swahili teacher) and me on the train
me
and me
a pet monkey
Well for now, take what you can get! From top down:
me
a bunch of kids
me
me with my mom (left) and Fatuma Mkubwa (right)
My favorite swimming spot
My mom with Elizabeth's baby in our kitchen
Me with my little friend Rahema
me in front of the train
Sean, Rose (a Swahili teacher) and me on the train
me
and me
a pet monkey
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