Before coming to Kenya, I knew I would see poverty and a harsh way of life. I thought it would bother me a lot, that I would have to condition myself to handle the sights I would see. I even imagined myself (notoriously sensitive to anything mildly disturbing and sometimes self-righteous about it) coming home crying on various occasions.
That has never happened. It was like as soon as the plane landed I grew a thick calloused skin. Poverty and death barely fazed me. In my first weeks I saw street children, barefoot with dirty clothes; people with open wounds begging on the roads; and wheelbarrows of goat heads. I've heard of young deaths, brutal mob deaths, and orphans taking care of countless younger orphans. It has been shocking at times, or maybe a little disturbing, but never as devastating as I had imagined. I don't know why this is.
There are however, a couple things that have gotten under my skin. The first is the treatment and condition of animals on the homesteads in Kenya. Cats and dogs are kicked when they are in the way. They are fed once a day, meager scraps, often mostly maize meal and broth. They are so skinny, they often don't look like they're able to have offspring, although they have some and sometimes a few live. For example, we had a puppy here in Kisumu named Rumi. It was super playful and super cute. It was the son of one of our adult dogs. When I came back from Nairobi, it was so thin, I knew it wouldn't live. I came back the next day and it had died. I was fairly upset, and when I showed that sentiment, my family laughed at me. Their animals die frequently; to even be able to feed them is an extreme privilege. It still hasn't gotten to me that much, maybe because if it did I'd never survive here.
The other thing is the boda-boda drivers, the men (yes, always men) that ride rickety old bikes with you on a cushion on the back. They will take you on a 30 minute ride for about 30 or 40 shillings, which is about 50 cents. And I weigh 68 kilos, and we're in an equatorial climate, so you can imagine how NOT easy it is. Sometimes they take me uphill. And it's all because I'm too lazy to even walk in the heat. In particular there is one boda driver that knows me. He has a brand new baby daughter, no phone, no other job, not even a watch. When I tell him to come at 8:30, he comes based on the position of the sun (he's surprisingly accurate). But he'll take me SO far for so cheap. And I know I shouldn't pity him, I'm a good source of business, but the fact that I pay this man less than a dollar to carry my lazy butt all over makes me feel guilty as hell and I can't help it.
Beyond that, I handle the sights and stories with more callousness than I would have expected. I'm not sure what else I can do.
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2 comments:
I think all the horrible shit you see over there really hits you after you're gone and away from it, when you don't need that skin to go about your life anymore and you're back to a life where that just doesn't seem a reality, at least that's what I've felt
Stephenie, you are an amazing woman. And yes, one to admire. I believe the reason you are not bothered by things you have seen in Kenya, is because you have put yourself in survival mode.If you did not, the horrible things you have seen would comsume and destroy your spirit. The most important thing you can do when you return home is to to share and talk about your experience. Like you have done over the past six months. Your experience in Kenya is an experience that will follow you for the rest of your life.
- David's mom
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