During my rural homestay, I had an idea for an article to write and submit to Wash U's newspaper, Student Life. Here is the text of the draft they printed in today's edition. This is a lot more political than any other post I've made, so I hope you take it for what it is :)
If you're interested in seeing the article on its original site, just go to studlife.com and search my name.
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THE U.S. GOVERNMENT'S SHAMEFUL DOUBLE STANDARD
I recently started classes at the University of Nairobi in Kenya to study culture, environment, and development in one of the most beautiful countries I've ever seen. Unfortunately, if you wanted to come visit me, the U.S. Government would say no.
The State Department issued a travel warning against Kenya following a 1998 bomb blast at the U.S. embassy in Nairobi. In 2002, terrorists bombed a hotel in the coastal city of Mombasa, killing 15 people. However, the past four years have been incident-free. Even with a fairly elected democratic government and one of the most thriving economies in East Africa, Kenya remains on the U.S. State Department's travel warning list.
I understand the need to warn Americans of danger when traveling abroad. I even partially understand why over one third of the countries on the list are in Africa. Sure, parts of Africa have problems. Here's what I don't understand: where's the United Kingdom?
Several weeks ago, I spent five hours in a tent outside Heathrow airport in London with hundreds of other people just to see if my flight was going to leave that morning. The night before, dozens of stranded people had spent the night in the lobby of my airport hotel buying food and drinks so they would have a place to stay. Earlier that day I had taken the Eurostar (Chunnel) from Paris to London amidst the longest lines they had seen in years. People were sleeping on the floor of the station, and every train was full.
The cause of this chaos was that terrorists had targeted nearly ten planes traveling to the U.S and possibly even my train to London, according to some sources. The terrorists planned to trigger liquid explosives on board and kill over one thousand passengers. Fortunately, British law enforcement just barely stopped the plot.
Unfortunately, they didn't stop a plot last summer that blew up three subway trains and a tour bus, killing 52 people and injuring over 700. In both incidents, dozens of London citizens with links to Al-Qaeda were arrested in connection with the attacks and charged accordingly.
Kenya's most significant terrorist attack in the last decade happened in 1998 and the targeted building was technically U.S. property on U.S. soil.
I have yet to hear a convincing reason why Kenya should be on the travel warning list and the United Kingdom should not. Even if the U.S. Government claims that Kenya may have "limited ability" to detect and to deter a terrorist attack, we know Great Britain's limitations. Sure, maybe they stopped the plane bombings last month. But they didn't stop the train blasts last summer and they may have "limited ability" to prevent such acts in the future.
Blatant and unwarranted discrimination is apparent here. Obviously, the U.S. can't post a travel warning against Great Britain. That would be devastating to our crucial partnership in the war on terrorism. Plus, we have too much interest in their economy and the commerce between our two great nations. Most importantly, Great Britain is too "civilized" to warrant a travel warning.
Kenya, on the other hand, is just an insignificant little country on a continent that exists primarily for our exploitation and to make us feel better when we can afford to give a little money away. Indeed, our buddies at the World Bank and IMF have devalued their currency to a point where even the smallest scraps of change go a long way and make us feel great about being charitable.
What I'm not saying here is that Kenya is immune to terrorism or terrorist activities. What I am saying is that maybe the U.S. government should re-evaluate the criteria they use to impose travel warnings. For a country that relies on tourism as the biggest sector of the economy, Kenya suffers from our arrogant discrimination. When Illinois Senator Barack Obama toured the country a few weeks ago, Kenyan politicians pleaded with him to urge the U.S. government to lift the travel advisory. They pointed out that the only reason Kenya would be targeted for attacks in the first place is their partnership with the U.S.
I'm having the time of my life over here, and I feel safe everywhere I go. It's time for our government to grow up and end this shameful double standard by either lifting the travel ban on Kenya or imposing one on Great Britain. It's time to stop labeling Africa as a dangerous place to go simply because it's Africa.
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
Saturday, September 09, 2006
Mount Longonot
Today I climbed my third dormant volcano in one month.
The students on this trip are really intense about outdoor activities. A good number of them belong to the Outdoor Club at St. Lawrence University in upstate New York where they frequently do cross-country skiing, sub-freezing camping trips, and ridiculous hikes. So my day was pretty tiring, but totally worth it.
Mount Longonot is a 9,000 ft. dormant stratovolcano with a crater on the top that is about three miles wide and about 1,000 ft. deep. Most of the group climbed to the top and hiked around the entire crater. Me and my friend Nick spotted some steam rising from a place halfway to the bottom of the crater and decided to try and climb down. Most places along the rim were sheer cliff faces or drop-offs, so we were lucky to find a place where we could climb/slide down for most of the way, although it was still immensely steep.
As we neared the source of the steam, we noticed the ground getting warm. The temperature at the ridge had been below 40 degrees and the ground was becoming MUCH warmer. The closer we got, the softer the ground became and the vegetation began changing drastically. Suddenly I felt like I was in Jurrasic Park. I saw ferns and some of the ground was highly unstable. At the source, a hole emitted concentrated, white steam that we estimated was about 120 degrees. We could only keep our hands over it for a few seconds at the most. We chilled at the site for a little while wondering how many people had ever made the hike down there. By the end, I was sweating profusely and wondering how I could have been shivering under a jacket only an hour or so before.
The way up was at least twice as challenging because we had made several jumps of ten feet or more on our way down. This meant that we had to literally rock climb our way up several sections. When we reached the rim again, the rest of the group was on their way around, so we hung out near the trail leading back down the volcano itself. Then, we decided to run down instead of walk. Let's just say I think I'll be sore tomorrow.
The students on this trip are really intense about outdoor activities. A good number of them belong to the Outdoor Club at St. Lawrence University in upstate New York where they frequently do cross-country skiing, sub-freezing camping trips, and ridiculous hikes. So my day was pretty tiring, but totally worth it.
Mount Longonot is a 9,000 ft. dormant stratovolcano with a crater on the top that is about three miles wide and about 1,000 ft. deep. Most of the group climbed to the top and hiked around the entire crater. Me and my friend Nick spotted some steam rising from a place halfway to the bottom of the crater and decided to try and climb down. Most places along the rim were sheer cliff faces or drop-offs, so we were lucky to find a place where we could climb/slide down for most of the way, although it was still immensely steep.
As we neared the source of the steam, we noticed the ground getting warm. The temperature at the ridge had been below 40 degrees and the ground was becoming MUCH warmer. The closer we got, the softer the ground became and the vegetation began changing drastically. Suddenly I felt like I was in Jurrasic Park. I saw ferns and some of the ground was highly unstable. At the source, a hole emitted concentrated, white steam that we estimated was about 120 degrees. We could only keep our hands over it for a few seconds at the most. We chilled at the site for a little while wondering how many people had ever made the hike down there. By the end, I was sweating profusely and wondering how I could have been shivering under a jacket only an hour or so before.
The way up was at least twice as challenging because we had made several jumps of ten feet or more on our way down. This meant that we had to literally rock climb our way up several sections. When we reached the rim again, the rest of the group was on their way around, so we hung out near the trail leading back down the volcano itself. Then, we decided to run down instead of walk. Let's just say I think I'll be sore tomorrow.
Friday, September 08, 2006
Update from Nairobi
I don't have anything really profound to say, but I figured I'd just post a quick update.
After the rural homestay, we returned to Nairobi and began taking classes. Along with Kiswahili and the core class which we all take together, I am taking Health and Healing and Socio-Economic Development in Kenya. I am enjoying both, but particularly loving the Development class. Our teacher has introduced some really interesting ideas challenging traditional concepts of development and I'm excited to see what he has to say.
As far as activities, we have a good deal of flexibility but a TON of available reading. However, most of it isn't required which makes it difficult to choose which to read and which to leave. For those of you who know me well, I have a hard time when I know there are many things I could/should be doing but nothing is really structured.
Anyway, tomorrow we're going on a really cool hike up a dormant volcano (this seems to be a trend in my life recently...refer to previous posts to see what I mean) called Longonot Crater. The crater itself in the top is absolutely enormous and I hope we get to climb down into it. Hopefully, I'll be able to post some interesting pictures when I get back.
So basically we've just been hanging out at the compound and working on group presentations and readings for class in addition to reading for our Tanzania trip. I've been playing a lot of pingpong on the sweetest pingpong table I've ever seen in my life (it is painted with the Kenyan flag). Today, I also played Ultimate which was a bad idea because I've been a little sick and my stomach hurt like hell for at least an hour afterward.
Well, time for bed. Just wanted to give a quick update. I'm extremely excited for the Tanzania component starting next weekend. Apparently, we get to live with a hunter/gatherer group known as the Hadza and learn to produce fire with sticks and make bows and arrows. At the end, we supposedly get to go hunting with them. These people are one of the few groups left on Earth who still practice the hunter/gatherer lifestyle. They also speak a dialect in the Khoisan linguistic phylum, which means their language is most likely a "click language." If you don't know what this is, it would be really hard for me to explain it. Basically, they click while they talk. The clicking is incorporated into their speech in the same way we incorporate vowels or consonant groupings. I'm pumped.
This post turned out longer than I expected. I hope you made it to the bottom. Hope all is well!
After the rural homestay, we returned to Nairobi and began taking classes. Along with Kiswahili and the core class which we all take together, I am taking Health and Healing and Socio-Economic Development in Kenya. I am enjoying both, but particularly loving the Development class. Our teacher has introduced some really interesting ideas challenging traditional concepts of development and I'm excited to see what he has to say.
As far as activities, we have a good deal of flexibility but a TON of available reading. However, most of it isn't required which makes it difficult to choose which to read and which to leave. For those of you who know me well, I have a hard time when I know there are many things I could/should be doing but nothing is really structured.
Anyway, tomorrow we're going on a really cool hike up a dormant volcano (this seems to be a trend in my life recently...refer to previous posts to see what I mean) called Longonot Crater. The crater itself in the top is absolutely enormous and I hope we get to climb down into it. Hopefully, I'll be able to post some interesting pictures when I get back.
So basically we've just been hanging out at the compound and working on group presentations and readings for class in addition to reading for our Tanzania trip. I've been playing a lot of pingpong on the sweetest pingpong table I've ever seen in my life (it is painted with the Kenyan flag). Today, I also played Ultimate which was a bad idea because I've been a little sick and my stomach hurt like hell for at least an hour afterward.
Well, time for bed. Just wanted to give a quick update. I'm extremely excited for the Tanzania component starting next weekend. Apparently, we get to live with a hunter/gatherer group known as the Hadza and learn to produce fire with sticks and make bows and arrows. At the end, we supposedly get to go hunting with them. These people are one of the few groups left on Earth who still practice the hunter/gatherer lifestyle. They also speak a dialect in the Khoisan linguistic phylum, which means their language is most likely a "click language." If you don't know what this is, it would be really hard for me to explain it. Basically, they click while they talk. The clicking is incorporated into their speech in the same way we incorporate vowels or consonant groupings. I'm pumped.
This post turned out longer than I expected. I hope you made it to the bottom. Hope all is well!
Sunday, September 03, 2006
Some pictures from Chemosot
I wanted to post at least ten other pictures, but this computer is not cooperating. Be sure to check out the previous post for more details...
The entire group right before we got into the bus and drove to our homestays
Me and Dennis clearing a field with hoes
Me, Collins, and Halita holding the baseball we made out of banana fibers
Dennis, Collins, Tony, and Geoffrey with their Go Fish cards
Planting a tree I brought in the field next to where the calves graze
The entire group right before we got into the bus and drove to our homestays
Me and Dennis clearing a field with hoes
Me, Collins, and Halita holding the baseball we made out of banana fibers
Dennis, Collins, Tony, and Geoffrey with their Go Fish cards
Planting a tree I brought in the field next to where the calves graze
My Kenyan family
There's nothing like picking tea in the field and hearing Mama and my youngest sister quietly singing praise songs to themselves. There's nothing like playing baseball with a ball we made ourselves of banana fibers and a piece of firewood as a bat. There's nothing like holding my youngest brother's hand and herding the cattle home at the end of a long and satisfying day. There is absolutely nothing like an African smile. And there is nothing like being part of a family in rural Kenya.
I spent the past week living with a Kipsigis family in Chemosot, Kenya. My mother’s name was Betty, but I simply called her “Mama.” My brothers were Dennis, Tony, and Collins, and my youngest sister was Halita. I also had an eighteen-year-old sister I never met because she was completing her final year of secondary school and had a different holiday schedule from the rest of us. Baba (father) passed away three years ago and we had a family member named Geoffrey living with us who tended the cattle and helped with most of the male labor.
A typical day for me began at 7:00 after the sun was already well in the sky and the cattle had been taken to the pastures to graze. I would wash my hands and face with warm water before proceeding to eat breakfast: six sandwiches filled with butter or jam, at least two bananas, a boiled egg, pineapple, occasionally a cold sweet potato or two, and of course several steaming cups of hot milk with a little bit of tea, as I like to call it.
The morning was usually spent doing some sort of labor. The first day, we harvested maize by shucking each individual cob and throwing them in piles, then hauling them back to a grainery in several wheelbarrow loads. Another morning, we took hoes and cleared a field of weeds and grass to allow for planting. We also picked tea and brought it to a buying center for weighing before taking it to a factory to be processed and sold back to the people who grow it so they can drink it.
After a few hours of work we would gather in the yard for porridge. Porridge is a sort of millet slime that somehow captures the heat within itself so you feel the warmth go all the way down your throat and chest. It reminds me a bit of cream of wheat and I actually like it a lot in small doses. Unfortunately, absolutely no food item comes in small doses in this community. Accompanying the porridge was some sort of carbohydrate such as mandazi (a sort of fried dough), biscuit crackers, or boiled maize (corn on the cob) that did not taste or feel anything like American corn whatsoever. The kernels were bigger, harder, drier, and starchier.
Following this second breakfast of sorts, I would sit around with my brothers and we would talk or just stare into space for awhile. After a few days, I brought out a deck of cards and began teaching them card games. By the end of the visit, I had taught them Speed, Go Fish, War, Egyptian Rat Screw (which I renamed Royals), SlapJack, Hello Sir Hello Miss, Spades, Poker without gambling, and Spoons. They loved it and played every chance they could get.
At first, I felt weird introducing an activity into my experience which eventually took over most recreation time. I was worried about interfering with the community I was studying, but I ended up learning a great deal about sustainable development. In many ways, the cards represented a development program and I had to learn how to introduce them properly. At a certain point, I had to be disciplined enough to remove myself from the game and make sure they could continue playing once I left. There were also a few times where I became frustrated at the way they would change aspects of the rules, but I soon realized that I had to allow the games to adapt to their culture.
The best example of this happened when they were playing Speed. Speed is a two person game, but they involved every single person present. One person would hold the player’s cards for him and another would flip the next card over when a stack would run out. To me, it seemed chaotic but I realized that the communal nature of their lifestyle made this process allow the game to fit beautifully into their culture. To interfere in this process would be making the same mistake the World Bank and IMF made with Structural Adjustment Programs in the 1980s. Maybe if these organizations had tried introducing card games first, they wouldn’t have privatized land ownership and conflicts such as Darfur or wildlife degradation in Kenyan game parks would have never occurred. Maybe they would have realized that traditional agricultural practices actually make great use of the land and introducing a Western method might actually ruin the land and force people to relocate to an area that now “belonged” to another “tribe.”
Angry rant aside, the cards became a great learning experience for me and a fun activity for them.
I also introduced them to baseball, which was incredibly complicated to explain to people who had never even heard of it before. My acting training was essential as I tried to explain what a “force out” or “stealing a base” meant. In the end I’m still not sure they completely understood it, but we had a great time anyway.
My family lived a simple and humble life that deeply reminded me of my own upbringing. I shared a small room with my two brothers and Geoffrey who slept in a bunk bed...Dennis on top, Tony and Geoffrey on the bottom. We shared meals in a dimly lit room and sometimes said prayers together by the light of a lantern. While my family in the U.S. has always had electricity, I felt the same familiar closeness and reliance on one another that I have come to appreciate so much throughout the years.
The last night, Mama brought out a cake she had made that said “Logan, Kwaheri” in icing (kwaheri means “goodbye” in Swahili). After eating, she gave a type of speech thanking me for coming and delighting in the friendships we had formed. Then she had me say the prayer before we went off to bed. Somehow, I made it through without crying and realized in those moments what it means to be family in Christ. I will admit that I shed more than a few tears when I told them goodbye a few days ago.
There are many many other things to be said about my experience in Chemosot, but that is for a later time. If you are reading this, I hope you will ask me questions because I would absolutely love to answer them.
I am now back at the compound in Nairobi and ready to begin class tomorrow. In addition to Swahili and the core course on Culture, Environment, and Development, I am taking a Health and Medicine class and a Socio-Economic Development of Kenya class. After two weeks of study and staying at the compound, we head to Tanzania for a week, followed by three weeks in an urban homestay in Nairobi.
At the moment, I need a break from writing and will probably try to post some pictures before I eat dinner. Missing all of you,
Reynolds
I spent the past week living with a Kipsigis family in Chemosot, Kenya. My mother’s name was Betty, but I simply called her “Mama.” My brothers were Dennis, Tony, and Collins, and my youngest sister was Halita. I also had an eighteen-year-old sister I never met because she was completing her final year of secondary school and had a different holiday schedule from the rest of us. Baba (father) passed away three years ago and we had a family member named Geoffrey living with us who tended the cattle and helped with most of the male labor.
A typical day for me began at 7:00 after the sun was already well in the sky and the cattle had been taken to the pastures to graze. I would wash my hands and face with warm water before proceeding to eat breakfast: six sandwiches filled with butter or jam, at least two bananas, a boiled egg, pineapple, occasionally a cold sweet potato or two, and of course several steaming cups of hot milk with a little bit of tea, as I like to call it.
The morning was usually spent doing some sort of labor. The first day, we harvested maize by shucking each individual cob and throwing them in piles, then hauling them back to a grainery in several wheelbarrow loads. Another morning, we took hoes and cleared a field of weeds and grass to allow for planting. We also picked tea and brought it to a buying center for weighing before taking it to a factory to be processed and sold back to the people who grow it so they can drink it.
After a few hours of work we would gather in the yard for porridge. Porridge is a sort of millet slime that somehow captures the heat within itself so you feel the warmth go all the way down your throat and chest. It reminds me a bit of cream of wheat and I actually like it a lot in small doses. Unfortunately, absolutely no food item comes in small doses in this community. Accompanying the porridge was some sort of carbohydrate such as mandazi (a sort of fried dough), biscuit crackers, or boiled maize (corn on the cob) that did not taste or feel anything like American corn whatsoever. The kernels were bigger, harder, drier, and starchier.
Following this second breakfast of sorts, I would sit around with my brothers and we would talk or just stare into space for awhile. After a few days, I brought out a deck of cards and began teaching them card games. By the end of the visit, I had taught them Speed, Go Fish, War, Egyptian Rat Screw (which I renamed Royals), SlapJack, Hello Sir Hello Miss, Spades, Poker without gambling, and Spoons. They loved it and played every chance they could get.
At first, I felt weird introducing an activity into my experience which eventually took over most recreation time. I was worried about interfering with the community I was studying, but I ended up learning a great deal about sustainable development. In many ways, the cards represented a development program and I had to learn how to introduce them properly. At a certain point, I had to be disciplined enough to remove myself from the game and make sure they could continue playing once I left. There were also a few times where I became frustrated at the way they would change aspects of the rules, but I soon realized that I had to allow the games to adapt to their culture.
The best example of this happened when they were playing Speed. Speed is a two person game, but they involved every single person present. One person would hold the player’s cards for him and another would flip the next card over when a stack would run out. To me, it seemed chaotic but I realized that the communal nature of their lifestyle made this process allow the game to fit beautifully into their culture. To interfere in this process would be making the same mistake the World Bank and IMF made with Structural Adjustment Programs in the 1980s. Maybe if these organizations had tried introducing card games first, they wouldn’t have privatized land ownership and conflicts such as Darfur or wildlife degradation in Kenyan game parks would have never occurred. Maybe they would have realized that traditional agricultural practices actually make great use of the land and introducing a Western method might actually ruin the land and force people to relocate to an area that now “belonged” to another “tribe.”
Angry rant aside, the cards became a great learning experience for me and a fun activity for them.
I also introduced them to baseball, which was incredibly complicated to explain to people who had never even heard of it before. My acting training was essential as I tried to explain what a “force out” or “stealing a base” meant. In the end I’m still not sure they completely understood it, but we had a great time anyway.
My family lived a simple and humble life that deeply reminded me of my own upbringing. I shared a small room with my two brothers and Geoffrey who slept in a bunk bed...Dennis on top, Tony and Geoffrey on the bottom. We shared meals in a dimly lit room and sometimes said prayers together by the light of a lantern. While my family in the U.S. has always had electricity, I felt the same familiar closeness and reliance on one another that I have come to appreciate so much throughout the years.
The last night, Mama brought out a cake she had made that said “Logan, Kwaheri” in icing (kwaheri means “goodbye” in Swahili). After eating, she gave a type of speech thanking me for coming and delighting in the friendships we had formed. Then she had me say the prayer before we went off to bed. Somehow, I made it through without crying and realized in those moments what it means to be family in Christ. I will admit that I shed more than a few tears when I told them goodbye a few days ago.
There are many many other things to be said about my experience in Chemosot, but that is for a later time. If you are reading this, I hope you will ask me questions because I would absolutely love to answer them.
I am now back at the compound in Nairobi and ready to begin class tomorrow. In addition to Swahili and the core course on Culture, Environment, and Development, I am taking a Health and Medicine class and a Socio-Economic Development of Kenya class. After two weeks of study and staying at the compound, we head to Tanzania for a week, followed by three weeks in an urban homestay in Nairobi.
At the moment, I need a break from writing and will probably try to post some pictures before I eat dinner. Missing all of you,
Reynolds
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