Today is my fifth day in Africa. It has been and continues to be a major adjustment. In some ways it doesn't seem that different and in many other ways, it is definitely a whole new world.
In the villages, the poverty can hit you in the face at one moment and then seem non-existent in the next. People are well-dressed, many have cell phones, they pay for transportation by Boda Boda (bicycle), Pik Pik (motorbike), or matatu (a large size van that may be crammed chockerblock full of people), even in the small villages they buy Coke and other soft drinks that could be considered a luxury. However, people live in huts that may be made of tin or clay with thatch roofs, they work from sunup to sundown to provide food for their families, and leisure time activities are next to non-existent. (Of course, life in the cities is different).
African villages are not what Canadians think of when we hear the word "village." Here, a village is a series of compounds, each compound housing a family. A village might have one or two shops providing supplies such as mangos, peanuts, bread, eggs, and pop to the villagers.
Family also means something different here. Usually, a man will have at least 2 or 3 wives, each in their own house within the compound. If the husband dies, the sons must build their own houses (huts) and move out of the mother's house. Once the mother dies, the house is left uninhabited, perhaps used only for cooking or storage. Oftentimes it is left to fall into disrepair.
The compounds are another sign of the discrepancies in the spread of wealth in Africa. One compound may have strong, "modern" houses built of concrete blocks while in the compound right next door, the houses might only be built of mud and thatch.
On Wednesday, I was outside the Health Clinic compound watching the cattle being herded by as they were taken down to the pond to water. The school children were coming by, also. They stopped to say hello to the Mzungu and have their picture taken. One boy asked if I had a pencil I could give him. I didn't have any with me that day so I asked him to come back the next day.
It was a difficult experience on Thursday, when I went out to greet the children and hand out pencils. At first only a handful of children were around, but within seconds there was a crowd of children around me. It became difficult to figure out who had already received one and who hadn't. They kept pushing and shoving, crowding around me, trying to get my attention, and have me give them one. I finally had to give up and go back into the compound. At that point, one of the clinic workers suggested I count the remaining pens and pencils and have the guard allow only that number of children to come in, a few at a time to get one. This worked well. I only had one pen left after this and suggested that this one girl (in school uniform) who was holding a baby be the the one to come in and get the last pen. The clinic worker said that the girls shouldn't be given the pens, only the boys. I found the whole experience difficult on so many levels - the extreme joy of the children in receiving something as simple as a pencil or a pen - that they were thankful for such a small thing but at the same time the knowledge that they were so thankful because to them this "small thing" was a very large thing - and the worker's comment that only the boys should receive the pens. We are so blessed in Canada - both in riches and in rights for all - that this experience was beyond my comprehending.
If you take out a camera here, you are liable to be swarmed - the children (and the adults) LOVE to have their picture taken and then see the results. They don't understand that they need to stand back from the camera so I'm often needing to back up and ask them to stay put. (This also makes it hard to get a "candid" shot - they seem to have a sixth sense of when the Mzungus are around and have their cameras out.) Dad, Ed, Boniface, and I were in Bondo to purchase electrical supplies. While the guys negotiated with the shop, I wandered around a bit. I was taking a picture of an older woman selling dried corn kernels - she had a wheelbarrow full of them. In the shop behind her was a small child and his mother. His mother called me over and asked me to take a picture of the child, then of her and the child, and then just of her. She kept doing different poses and asking "One more, one more." Then, she went and stood with a friend - "One more, one more!" - and then another friend joined them - "One more, one more!"
The heat here is something else. Because we had such a cool July in Canada, I wasn't used to heat and humidity so coming here was, and still is, a major adjustment.
The brightness of the sun is a challenge for me - both because I'm heat-sensitive and am having problems with the heat, but also because it makes it VERY difficult to take pictures - the sky is so bright while the people, buildings, trees, and animals are darker, more neutral tones - it's hard to properly meter to get a picture where you can make out the bottom half of the picture without blowing out the highlights in the top half!!!
Today we got up early and drove into Kisumu. At Hippo Point, we went on a boat ride on Lake Victoria. Titus, a marine biologist, was our guide and was able to tell us all about the flora and fauna of Lake Victoria. In terms of flora, we saw sausage trees, papyrus, mangrove, candelabra trees, and water hyacinth. Fauna included cormorants, egrets, flamingos, kingfishers, and hippos!!!!! Pictures to follow.
Lunch and souvenir shopping is next on our list! Later!
