Deep Gladness

Forgiveness and Reconciliation

2011-09-11T19:31:00.000-07:00

My thoughts today on the 10th anniversary of September 11th, are of forgiveness and reconciliation. I'd like to share the most poignant example of this I've ever known.

Two years ago, my friend Amir and I had the privilege of traveling through Rwanda during the 15th anniversary of that country's genocide. In this conflict, the majority Hutu ethnic group took up arms against the minority Tutsis. Both of these labels had been falsely assigned by foreign powers nearly a century before, and propaganda to pit one group against the other had been ingrained in the population's head for several generations. In 1994, these ideas exploded as the Hutu extremist government ordered and carried out the mass murder of 20% of the population. Over 500,000 people were killed in 100 days.

In the interview clips below, Amir and I speak with one of the Hutu regional leaders who took orders directly from the government to carry out mass murder. He is now incarcerated as a Category 1 prisoner, a label reserved for high-ranking officials and master-minds of the genocide. Translating is our good friend William Karambizi, who was himself a Tutsi and lost many of his family members and friends in the conflict before fighting with the current government's army to stop the genocide. In this interview, the two former enemies sit side by side.

You may be surprised by what is said, and challenged to reconsider the human capacity to forgive. What does forgiveness really mean? What might happen if our country adopted a policy of forgiveness and reconciliation instead of a policy of revenge and, dare I say, terror? Is there really such a thing as the "other"? Many Rwandans thought so. Now, their eyes are being opened. When will our eyes be opened? As we Americans recall our own tragedy today, let us remember the insight of Dr. King that hate can not defeat hate, only love can.

Teaching in the South Bronx

2010-07-30T05:22:00.000-07:00

After over a year without posting, I feel that only a brief synopsis makes sense.

After returning to the U.S. from Rwanda, I packed my bags and headed to New York City. I joined the "corps" at Teach for America, and have been teaching at South Bronx Classical Charter School ever since.

Teaching in my school's environment has been the most difficult thing I have ever done. My first year of teaching gave me a completely different look at social injustice. After spending so much of my time and effort on the other side of the world, it was time for me to open my eyes to my own country's issues. What better place to start than education?

At this point, my greatest realization is this: most poor elementary school children in New York City either receive a chaotic and unfocused education, or they are stifled by over-structured and rigorous academic programs that leave little room for creative development and play.

The challenge moving forward (at least in New York City) is to strike a balance and provide an environment in which children are challenged, but also given the space to enjoy being children.

I hope to write more as my second year progresses, but I am limited on what I can say by Teach for America. Regardless, I know I will come out of this experience with plenty of stories and life lessons that I will be considering for many years.

A Truth Untold

2009-04-10T11:53:00.000-07:00

For the month of April, most of my posts will be to a new website, which is entitled "A Truth Untold." This will be the reflections and documentation of a project I am undertaking with my roommate Amir to capture the 15th commemoration of the Rwandan genocide. As we travel throughout the country, we will be posting pictures, videos, and written reflections about our experiences and our discoveries through reading and traveling. I hope you will join us on this journey!

http://www.atruthuntold.blogspot.com

Miracle Corners of the World--Arusha, Tanzania

2009-04-06T05:30:00.000-07:00

This 13 minute film tells the story of the first community center started by Miracle Corners of the World. The center is located in the heart of urban Arusha, Tanzania, and offers programs in English, Business Entrepreneurship, Information Technology, a preschool, and a youth group that uses performing arts for social education. Living out their motto, "Local Change through Global Exchange," Miracle Corners continues to work with communities throughout Africa in an effort to empower youth and address issues of poverty.

Millennium Congregations and Millennium Villages

2009-03-29T08:45:00.000-07:00

This eight-part film is one I made recently about the partnership between Millennium Congregations (MC) and the Millennium Villages Project (MVP).

A new American-based non-profit has emerged to promote an inter-faith response to extreme poverty, offering faith communities opportunities to support the incredible work of MVP and combat poverty in Mayange, one of Rwanda's poorest sectors. Interviews with staff in Rwanda and MC's founder, Jay Lawlor, help tell the story of this partnership in the context of the Millennium Development Goals (MDGs). Within each MDG are proven interventions in agriculture, education, business development, infrastructure, and health.

This initiative offers the chance for unity among religions as we join in a common life of caring for the suffering and destitute. And we may just learn something about ourselves along the way.

Ntarama Genocide Memorial

2009-03-29T07:37:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, I woke up at 7 a.m. on a Saturday and caught up with the news through Google Reader and e-mail. Our water has not been working for several days now, but our friend and "housekeeper" Tete gathered some from the collection point in the middle of Nyamata. Amir and I spent most of the morning at our computers chatting about everything from politics to religion, with our front door and window wide open, letting in the warm Rwandan air. Our landlord's daughter Ange ran into town and bought some chapatti, which we filled with beans and rice in the spirit of a burrito. As we ate our makeshift burritos, we talked about homosexuality and religion, approaching the topics from different perspectives, but open in our views and gracious in our criticisms.

Later that afternoon, we left our cosy house for the wide-open spaces of the main road that runs through rural Rwanda. We ended up walking several miles down all the way down to Ntarama. As we came up on the town, we accepted rides from two bicycle taxis or "boda bodas" as they are called in Kenya. I had forgotten the joy of coasting along at a leisurely pace that allows you to take in the full scenery, while also enjoying a refreshing breeze that cools skin that has been assaulted by the equatorial sun all day. It sure beats cramming up next to smelly strangers in steamy matatu death traps or viewing terrain from inside a moto helmet that may or may not be giving you a fungal head disease. I actually love the thrill of motos, but enjoyed the slower pace of the bicycle on this particular day.

Our destination was the genocide memorial at Ntarama, a church where 5,000 people met their end from grenades, hammers, clubs, and machetes. Going to this site, I did not know this information and had no idea what to expect, especially after seeing two very different memorials as Gisosi and Nyamata. This one was strikingly similar to the church at Nyamata, although smaller in scale and nestled in a beautiful enclosure of hills and banana trees.

When I entered the building from the back, the deafening silence of the place washed over me and I felt as if I were being swallowed by the dark sanctuary. Rows of skulls and bones line a giant shelf that stretches to the ceiling, many indicating the cause of death: a machete gash in the skull, a bullet hole, puncture marks from nail-covered clubs.

Looking forward to the altar reveals a chilling view partially obstructed by thousands of clothes hanging from the rafters and covering the walls, the actual clothes of the victims. Parts of the pews are missing where people pried them up in an attempt to defend themselves. There are huge grenade holes in several walls. Dust swims slowly in thin streams of light beaming through shrapnel holes in the tin roof.

At the front of the church, our guide showed us weapons that had actually been used in the ghastly event. She physically picked them up one by one to show us.

Nothing is behind glass, nothing is restored or repainted. The place seems to be exactly as it was at the time of the attack, save for the bodies which have been removed and whose bones have been organized on the shelves, whose clothes now fill the holy space with a sobering reminder of humanity's capability for evil.

A small classroom and a kitchen behind the church give a similar feeling. The classroom has nothing in it but pew-like benches which served as the desks, and the dried blood and brain matter of the small children who were picked up by the feet and slammed into the brick wall.

The kitchen floor is littered with parts of bones and a few large tufts of hair, likely burned from the victim’s heads by fire that was thrown into the building to kill its inhabitants. This structure is badly burned and is in the same disarray to which it was reduced 15 years ago.

Leaving this haunting, yet sacred place, Amir and I signed the guestbook. On the comments section, I wrote “Love is Truth is Power.” Amir wrote “Mankind is capable of extreme love and extreme hate. Let us choose love.”

A Day in the Life of Reynolds Whalen

2009-03-29T06:48:00.000-07:00

This 17 minute film follows my typical day living and working in Nyamata, Rwanda. I made this for my home church of St. John's in Norman, Oklahoma because they are having a fundraiser for the outreach committee, which offered me huge support in my time here.

Enjoy the sites and sounds of a beautiful place with beautiful people!

Penniless, We Own the World

2009-03-26T23:52:00.000-07:00

This Bible verse really resonated with me recently and I wanted to share it:

"We are imposters who speak the truth, the unknown men whom all men know: dying we still live on; disciplined by suffering, we are not done to death: in sorrows we have always cause for joy; poor ourselves, we bring wealth to many; penniless, we own the world." (2 Cor. 6:8-10)

Nairobi Street Demonstrations: Chaos or Political Progress?

2009-03-10T13:43:00.001-07:00

One headline in Kenya's Daily Nation newspaper for tomorrow (recently posted to their website) reads "Chaos as Varsity Students Stage Street Protests." My experience in Nairobi today was very different.

Last week, two prominent political activists were shot dead while waiting at a stoplight near the University of Nairobi. Several students pushed the car into the school's compound to keep the police from taking the bodies, and a student was shot and killed in the resulting skirmish.

In response, a group of students organized a demonstration for today to protest the violent act and demand the resignation of Kenya's police chief, Major General Mohammed Hussein Ali. Prime Minister Raila Odinga publicly recognized the protest and called for the police force not to intervene, saying that the proper authorities had been notified and that intervention would be a disruption of the political process.

Today, the large group of students walked through the central section of Nairobi and protested in several locations, including on the street in front of the president's offices and outside media headquarters. Indeed, they carried this out with no hassle from the police or the government.

However, as I rode past the business district in a matatu a few hours later, some outsiders had joined the demonstration and were looting local restaurants and businesses. This continued as I walked through town to meet George Ndiritu, the director of Haba na Haba. Several roads were closed for some time and there was fear of escalation, but the police got everything under control quickly and without violence or injury.

After talking with many Kenyans, including George, I believe today's events represent a positive step for tolerance in Kenyan politics. The fact that the government and police did not intervene until absolutely necessary is substantial in a country devastated by election violence that killed thousands of people just over a year ago. According to a staff member at my former study abroad program, this kind of peaceful protest was simply unimaginable until today. While there were certainly chaotic elements to the demonstration, I think the Daily Nation's headline is simply pandering to society's general sensationalism, and ultimately missed the bigger picture.

Ironically, I spent most of the day with Haba na Haba in Mathare, the "most dangerous" part of Nairobi, watching them perform an original play called Co-Existence that criticizes corruption, examines election violence, and calls for a more tolerant political culture in Kenya. Their work was beautiful and I couldn't help thinking that the events of today provide the perfect jumping-off point for an interesting and thought-provoking trip to the States on Thursday.

Haba na Haba!

2009-03-02T10:25:00.000-08:00

It has been more than two years since I first met the performing group Haba na Haba in the Eastlands area of Nairobi. After interning with the group for four weeks by giving guitar lessons every day and leading workshops on drama and movement, I returned to film an hour-long documentary about their work. This film became part of my senior thesis project and eventually helped inspire my advisor Rob Henke, among others at Washington University in St. Louis, to spearhead an effort to bring them to the U.S.

After all this time and hard work, they are finally coming!

During their trip to St. Louis from March 13-22, Haba na Haba has a packed schedule of events, including an impromptu performance (styled after the performances they do in their own communities), class visits at the university and local high schools, a panel discussion on theatre and social change, and the group's premier U.S. stage performance of "Co-Existence", an original play examining the political violence in Kenya's 2007 elections. Best of all for me, I will be flying to Nairobi in just over a week to join the group on their travels and be their host during their time in St. Louis.

I truly hope that whoever is reading this will be able to attend at least one of the scheduled events (listed in detail in the previous post). Of all my accomplishments, this is by far the one of which I am the most proud. This is honestly the most exciting thing that has ever happened to me.

Haba na Haba Schedule

2009-03-02T09:55:00.000-08:00

Haba Na Haba Itinerary

March 13 – 22, 2009

*WEDNESDAY MARCH 18

4:30 pm: Theater and Social Change
Panel Discussion with GWB students and Haba na Haba, Facilitator: TBA
Light refreshments to follow
Brown Lounge, Brown Hall

Open to the public

*THURSDAY MARCH 19

4:30 pm: Haba Na Haba Impromptu Performance with WU Students
All students welcome!!
S-40 Swamp
(Rain space: Mudd Multipurpose Room)

*FRIDAY MARCH 20

8 pm: Co-Existence - Performance by Haba Na Haba
560 Music Center, 560 Trinity, U. City
Open to the public

Ash Wednesday

2009-02-25T10:17:00.000-08:00

For the people of Mayange, the desert imagery of Lent is not difficult to grasp. Part of the reason the MVP chose to conduct programs in the area is a lack of adequate rainfall and challenging conditions for agriculture.

This past year was especially difficult due to a long-lasting drought that destroyed many crops and left many people in desperate circumstances.

As I enter this Lenten season and read the Gospel lesson for Ash Wednesday in which Jesus instructs us not to disfigure our faces when fasting, I think of the countless people I pass every day who may not have eaten a full meal in weeks, yet whose faces reveal only hope and joy. As I pursue my Lenten resolution to pray with the rising and setting of the sun every day, I will remember those in this world whose journey in life is a daily struggle, but who approach each day with unfailing optimism and gratitude for the little they do have. I hope you will, too.

Millennium Congregations: a Brief Introduction

2009-02-02T04:28:00.001-08:00

After sorting through over 20 hours of footage, I came up with this 2 minute piece to use as an introduction for shorter presentations about Millennium Congregations. It can also be thought of as a trailer or preview for the 15-20 minute piece I will be making in the next few weeks.

That video promises to be challenging as I try to capture the incredible complexity and comprehensiveness of the Millennium Villages Project, personal stories of how their programs have improved the community, and how all of this relates to Millennium Congregations. My problem, which tends to be a common one in my experience with this work, is deciding which amazing programs and stories to leave out completely.

Kubaka

2009-01-27T23:54:00.000-08:00

During my time in Rwanda, I have had the pleasure of connecting with the organization of my roommates Amir and Anna, called “Miracle Corners of the World” (MCW). This is an international network that empowers youth to become positive agents of change, to improve their lives and contribute to their communities. MCW serves youth through leadership training, community development, oral healthcare, and partner initiative programs.

In Rwanda, MCW has begun building a community center inspired by the ideas of youth throughout the Bugesera District, several kilometers south of the capital city of Kigali. This center will house an ICT center for learning computer skills, a classroom for language instruction, and a preschool, among other facilities.

This project will be particularly important in facilitating Rwanda’s switch from Francophone to Anglophone, which occurred officially only several weeks ago at the end of 2008. In fact, Miracle Corners Rwanda hopes to build the first public library in the entire country, focusing on making English-language books available to the community.

"Kubaka" in Kinyarwanda means "Construction." This film tells the story of the groundbreaking ceremony for the center, highlighting some of the ways MCW has been working with the community, and celebrating the opportunities for education, networking, and socialization that have been and will be "constructed."

PART 1

PART 2

A lovely evening

2009-01-23T06:57:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, in desperate need of exercise, I ran up one of Rwanda's "thousand hills" after work. At the top, I enjoyed a dazzling view of Nyamata and the surrounding villages. Coupled with the sound of my own heavy breathing was the never-ending chorus of children squealing in glee or utter dismay (i've remembered recently that kids rarely fall anywhere on the spectrum of emotions except the absolute extremes).

Later that night, I found myself interrupted at my computer by my landlord Bosco, who showed up at my door with his larger than life, tooth-missing smile, insisting that I join him and his wife for dinner. Moments later, I found myself at table with the two of them and Amir, laughing our way into the African night and struggling joyously through our language barriers, elated to discover in the immense confusion an almost sacred bond of friendship that truly united our common humanity and reaffirmed my strong belief in Christianity, a religion focusing on the two qualities that made the night transformative: love and community.

Mayange Drought

2009-01-22T01:36:00.000-08:00

Ironically, it is raining here in Nyamata as I begin this post.

After a week-long vacation with my brother in Uganda and the Nyungwe rainforest (click on the "Rwanda pictures" window on the right hand side to see a photo album of our travels), I returned to work and caught the feverish energy of the Millennium Village Project office as they scrambled to finish end-of-year reports, and action plans for 2009.

In the past few days, I produced two videos. The first is three and a half minutes long and has been successfully posted to YouTube. This piece was by request of MVP's Evaluation and Documentation Coordinator, Schadrack, who asked me to put together a minute-long video showing effects of a drought that plagued Mayange last year, and presented many challenges to the project's programs. He wanted something to attach to his annual report e-mail that could tell the story visually, in addition to his written report.

The second video is 13 minutes long and tells the story of the construction and groundbreaking ceremony of Miracle Corners of the World (MCW), the organization for which my roommates Amir and Anna are working. I have split the video into two parts for YouTube, and the first part has been uploading for over 20 hours now! The file is only 50 MB, and I am slightly frustrated at my modem's inability to upload files at a reasonable rate. However, I remain amazed that I can get internet access at all out where I am living.

More to come soon...

Mzungu!

2008-12-22T11:10:00.001-08:00

This is my fifth time in East Africa, and I am still not used to the diverse and outrageous reactions to my whiteness.

Every morning as I leave my house and begin the twenty-minute walk to the Millennium Village office, I am immediately greeted with a loud chorus of "mzungu!!!" that follows me non-stop for the rest of the walk. Until I reach the main paved road that runs from Kigali, these cries come mainly from very small children.

I am thoroughly convinced that the first word you learn as a baby in East Africa is mzungu, the Swahili word for white person. It usually takes me all of about ten seconds to gather a small parade of children, most of them trying to hold my hand, rub my skin to see if the color will come off, or play with the forest of blonde hair growing on my arms.

Often, I am greeted with "give me money," "how are you?", "give me water", or "good morning", which is especially peculiar when said over and over as the sun is setting on my way home (here in francophone Rwanda, an interesting mix of "bonjour" and "comment ca va?" enters the equation). I am almost positive that not a single one of these children actually wants or expects water and money, but rather to satisfy themselves and impress their friends with the ability to speak English to a white person.

The best is when one of these phrases, almost always "mzungu" or "how are you?", grows slowly into a rhythmic chant that is well rehearsed and has specific choreography, namely jumping up and down and flailing one's arms around as much as possible. As soon as this chant starts to materialize, kids come out of nowhere to join in, as parents look on with amusement or glance up for only a moment before continuing their work. Often, a kid will face plant while trying to outdo his/her buddy then miraculously spring right back up and join back in as if nothing has happened.

This all may sound very cute and endearing. For the first week or so, it certainly can be. However, after awhile, I choose to either ignore these pursuits or answer their questions in their own language with "ni meza" (I am fine) or "muraho" (Hello).

By the way, speaking Kinyarwanda as a white person always gets a reaction, no matter how many words are spoken or to what age group. The most common reaction is to laugh and chatter to a friend or group of friends while pointing at me. Sometimes the person will answer normally, then do a double take and realize it's a white person talking, often leading to uncontrollable giggling or running away, or both.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, it bothers me a lot that a single word of their language uttered from the mouth of a mzungu is somehow an act of God, while they are expected to speak four languages by the time they graduate high school. The "African Studies major" part of my brain dives into the inevitable and inexhaustible questions about how we developed a global system where disparities such as this could exist, and what, if anything can be done about them (or for that matter, should or should not be done about them).

Turning on to the main road brings its own fun times. First of all, let me try to describe to you the phenomenon of being stared at by literally everyone. Imagine a time you have been in a crowded place and done something that drew attention to yourself, such as blow an air horn, trip flat on your face, or accidentally yell "BANG!!"

Try and access that feeling of being completely exposed for that single moment when every eye is on you, curious as to what caused the disruption.

Now imagine that happening ALL THE TIME.

Anytime I am in public in rural East Africa, every single eye, without exception, is locked on me. If I choose to look at anyone, they are, without a single doubt, already looking at me. Granted, the feeling I described gets less intense as time wears on, but I do not believe it is possible for it to go away completely.

Then there are the hagglers, and all of those people running local businesses on the side of the road who desperately want the money--money that is surely flowing out of your white body faster than you can keep it in--to land in their hands in exchange for their bananas, phone cards, rides on backs of bicycles, tacky calendars full of smiling white babies, inspirational posters, or knock-off Gucci sunglasses (a pair of which I admittedly bought from a street hawker in Nairobi once, then lost in a drunken float trip down the Illinois River at the end of my senior year of college).

Or, they have no legs and want money to buy food, alcohol or drugs. Or they are scrawny street kids who beg for money to bring across the street to the man they work for.

To be fair, this specific kind of solicitation has only happened in Rwanda a few times thus far.

This, my friends, is the definition of culture shock. Some days are worse than others. Sometimes I actually stop and attempt to carry on conversations with people using the ten Kinywaranda words I know, or in broken Swahili. And sometimes I look straight ahead, walking as quickly as my long, gangly legs will take me.

The best method of dealing with these feelings is to acknowledge that they will never go away, and that it's okay to feel frustrated sometimes with the realization that no matter how hard I try, my tall, white, lanky, goofy, big-toothed mzungu self will never ever completely fit in :)

A Gun and a Camera

2008-12-20T10:14:00.000-08:00

I love those moments of clarity where I remember why I am here and why my work is important.

Last weekend, I was at a club in Kigali with Amir. We were meeting a few of his friends and one of them turned out to be a former soldier. After ordering a beer, I ended up talking with this guy for at least an hour.

For his privacy, I will simply refer to him as John.

John was born in a Burundi refugee camp to Rwandan parents and joined the Rwandan military at a relatively young age. When the genocide happened in 1994, he was one of the Rwandan Patriotic Front (RPF) soldiers who eventually stopped the massacre and took back the country.

Now, John leads tours in various parts of the country (such as mountain gorilla trekking, which I absolutely will do before I leave this country) and works as a freelance journalist. He often acts as a guide when international journalists come to the country looking for a way to travel to the DRC, where violence and instability provide just the kinds of stories that Westerners crave.

During our conversation, I was describing a recent article I read in the New York Times which I felt portrayed Rwanda's involvement in the DRC as incredibly one-sided, and he recognized the name of the reporter. It turns out that John had been his escort, but had not yet read the article. He was infuriated by my description, telling me that he had worked hard to provide balanced sources from both sides in order to tell the closest thing to the truth.

You see, John has an interesting perspective having been a soldier. He explained that he has used a gun before, and even killed people. But now his weapon is a camera.

A gun and a camera are very similar. You point them at people and shoot, and they both capture a person's humanity in different ways. However, only the camera can tell the truth. And the truth is what makes the biggest difference in the end.

Bagosora

2008-12-18T12:45:00.000-08:00

As I was importing footage from the Kigali Memorial Center yesterday, the main perpetrator of the 1994 genocide, General Theoneste Bagosora, received a life sentence from the International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda (ICTR) for plotting the massacre of Tutsis and moderate Hutus.

This represents a huge success for the international community in pursuing justice for crimes against humanity, and for many Rwandans, this was an emotional day.

However, we must not forget that the events of yesterday would not even be necessary if not for our gross inadequacy to prevent the genocide in the first place. Not to mention that this event comes fourteen years after the slaughter of at least one million people in the span of only 100 days.

The baby step we take on a global level today can not even be compared to the reconciliation process that Rwandans are pursuing in their own country every single day.

Today, I attended a sector-wide forum to discuss the implications of tourism and how it does or does not directly benefit the community. Hundreds of people attended and the event was held at Igiti Cy'umuyumu, a town in the Millennium Villages project with a fascinating recent history.

In this short clip from an interview, Delphin from MVP explains the incredible demographics of Igiti Cy'umuvumu, demonstrating how moving forward in Rwanda means so much more than convicting and sentencing one of the genocide's engineers.

This lesson of forgiveness and acceptance should inspire us in this holiday season where we reflect on the past year and confront the brokenness of our own country, seeking to move forward with open hearts and open minds.

The Millennium Village Project and Theatre for Education and Development

2008-12-17T11:34:00.001-08:00

Today I spent some quality time (yet again!) with a group of youth who are choosing to spend their holiday break singing, dancing, and performing together, and to use these activities to teach about HIV/AIDS prevention.

One of the MVP's initiatives in Rwanda addresses MDG 6 to combat HIV/AIDS, malaria, tuberculosis, and other diseases by using theater as a powerful tool to educate and promote behavior change. Similar to the roots of Haba na Haba (a performing group in Kenya with whom I studied and filmed last summer), this project uses football matches as opportunities to convey messages to a wide audience.

This morning, I sat with MVP's coordinator of evaluation and documentation as we went through several hours of footage they shot recently with various sectors of the program. We imported footage of beekeeping training and practice, an initiative to teach farmers how to grow mushrooms, the recent utilization of farm equipment to increase productivity, and various shots to encourage the increasing cultivation of drought-resistant crops.

This program gets more interesting every day, and it will be a HUGE challenge to get a comprehensive understanding, while still being able to portray it in a concise way.

Plenty to Do

2008-12-16T11:25:00.000-08:00

I have discovered that I will have no lack of things to do here.

Here are the current video projects I have lined up:

1. A short, five minute collection of testimonials set to music and various clips for Millennium Villages to send to Millennium Congregation to have immediately available for fundraising and gaining support (both for my project and the organization as a whole)

2. Vignettes of personal stories for Rwanda Community Works that will act as a similar support-raising mechanism

3. A film for Miracle Corners of the World based on the footage I shot at their groundbreaking ceremony last week (see previous post)

4. A film geared at donors about the Aegis Trust's new education program to discourage genocide ideology in Rwanda. I filmed at their training session today.

5. A short, fun video about Moto Polo, the crazy sport invented by ex-pats in Kigali where they play polo on the backs of motorcycles driven by actual moto taxi drivers in the city.

6. A video that tells the story of the main genocide memorials throughout the entire country of Rwanda. I will be collaborating with several Rwandans to select those that represent a diversity of experiences in order to try and tell as comprehensive a story as possible.

7. A series of "How To..." videos for Millennium Villages. These will not need to be translated from Kinyarwanda to English because the audience is local citizens, which makes the work much easier. These will basically be instructional videos for things like applying fertilizer, understanding and signing a contract, artificial insemination of cattle (yay!), and handicrafts.

8. Public Service Announcements for Millennium Villages. These will be things like someone washing their hands at the new hand-washing posts at schools, and not getting sick. Or encouraging menstruating girls not to miss school when they are having their period...don't ask me how that one will work.

9. A full-length documentary on the Millennium Village Project in Rwanda. Or possibly some combination of medium films about their different programs. TBD.

Miracle Corners of the World

2008-12-12T14:47:00.000-08:00

Here is my first post of video material. Keep in mind that this is simply clips of raw footage, and that the quality is less than desirable since I am in the middle of rural Africa using a portable USB modem. Also, for the moment, I will have to upload to YouTube and post the links because Blogger does not have the capacity to upload large files with this connection. Enjoy!

A group of youth dancing at an event for Miracle Corners of the World (MCW), a non-profit promoting local change and global exchange, a community driven process. This clip is from a groundbreaking ceremony for a site that will include a preschool, a radio station for Bugesera District, and other educational and gender empowering initiatives.

Kids at the MCW groundbreaking, marveling at my LCD screen, which is reversable and can reveal the live video to the subjects. Kids love seeing themselves on live video.

The full moon last night as seen from Kayumba, Nyamata, Bugesera District, East Province, Rwanda, Africa, Earth. I was just testing out my zoom, but I thought this would be a nifty little clip.

Nyamata

2008-12-10T11:55:00.005-08:00

*Warning: this post contains explicit content that may not be suitable for some readers.

Thirty minutes outside of Kigali on the pothole-free, paved road, smoother by far than most roads back home, the town of Nyamata is bustling with activity. Here, I was acutely reminded that I am working in a country with an enormous tragedy in its near past.

Nyamata was the site of one of the most brutal massacres of the genocide in 1994. One church saw 10,000 people murdered within its walls in just two days. This church is now the site for a memorial to the victims of the genocide and their families.

As you enter the church, light streams through holes blasted in the tin roof by guns and grenades. The brick and concrete in the entranceway have chunks missing as well. As you walk through the church, you are surrounded by pews strewn carefully with the actual clothes of the victims. Many pews have planks of wood missing where people pried them up in vain attempts to defend themselves. The altar at the front of the church is adorned with the original altar cloth, which is stained with blood. On the altar is a machete, a panga, and a rosary blessed by Pope John Paul II.

As you continue past the bullet-ridden baptismal font, a small, slightly raised section is covered with more clothes: shoes, trousers, the shorts of a small child. Here, attackers threw infants against the wall one after another to expedite the killing process.

Descend a staircase, you enter a new tiled room that mirrors two others just like it behind the church building. Here, lines of shelves on both sides hold row after row of human skulls, over 40,000 in all including the many remains brought to this place from all over the region, even to this day. Many are disfigured or contain clues to the cause of the person's death: a widened eye socket, a bullet hole in the temple, a cracked forehead, or a cranium caved in beyond recognition. Shelves above and below hold femurs, clavicles, and other bones. Currently, all that separates you from these morbid artifacts is the musty air, heavy with the most deafening silence I have ever encountered. The enormity of the situation is utterly incomprehensible.

Walking around Nyamata today, you would never guess such a tragic event lies in the past of such beautiful and gracious people. The town is bustling with business and development agencies, looking ahead with hope, yet not forgetting the past.

As of today, I call Nyamata home.

The Millennium Village office is in the heart of Nyamata and the house I found is a five minute walk away. A few days ago, I met the staff and everyone seemed genuinely happy and excited that I am here to document their work and the stories of their friends and families. On Monday we are having a meeting to discuss the best way for me to go about my work, and to make a tentative schedule to maximize my time.

My roommates are amazing. Amir is a mid-twenties rastafarian-type who is incredibly easy going and really into photography, and Karen is a lovely eternally happy woman who exudes positive energy and seems to be emitting light. Both are from the U.S. and I foresee many long nights of talking and laughing ahead. At the moment, I am accessing the internet with a wireless EVDO USB modem I bought in Kigali and it is working surprisingly well. I am consistently amazed at technology.

More to come soon, including pictures of the area and hopefully some video. I have decided to post a short video clip every day or every few days that gives a small window into the area and the people. It won't even necessarily have music or be edited, just a short little clip from the filming of that day. I hope I can make that work. More to come soon...

Getting Acquainted

2008-12-07T06:16:00.000-08:00

My entry for the Episcopalians for Global Reconciliation (EGR) blog was due today and here is what I wrote:

"I got off a plane in Kigali yesterday after a trip that took 35 hours including layovers. Driving through the city, one of the first things I noticed was the remarkable lack of trash. I believe this can be largely attributed to the Rwandan government's decision to ban plastic bags from the country.

In many parts of nearby Kenya, especially informal settlements and slums, one of the most striking images is streets lined with plastic bags, strewn across roads like carpets whose designs are the art of the nation's waste. Now, Kenya too has banned plastic bags.

Several weeks ago, I watched an independent documentary about an area the size of Texas in the Pacific Ocean known as the "Great Pacific Garbage Patch." Here, plastic floats freely and collects in large, ice berg-type chunks the size of a small car. Gutting a fish or an albatross reveals stomachs lined with plastic bags, wrappers, cellophane, and bits of plastic jugs. The biggest problem, however, is more subtle. Because plastic is non biodegradable, it breaks down smaller and smaller, literally changing the composition of the sea water and poisoning everything with which it has contact.

Perhaps our country too should consider banning plastic in as many forms as possible and use our political clout to encourage others to do the same. As with many issues I have noticed and studied, perhaps we should focus less on what we have to teach Africa and more on what Africa has to teach us."

On a less serious note, I am staying in one of the nicer housing setups I have encountered. We are just down the street from the President’s house, which provides for a very safe and lovely area. There are several hired staff whose names escape me: at least three security guards, a housekeeper/cook, and someone who does laundry at least twice a week. The gardens surrounding the house are beautiful, we have French press coffee, a refrigerator, a water filter to filter boiled water, mosquito nets, a free Vonage phone for international calls, wireless internet, tiled floors that resemble hardwood, beautiful exotic trees, and a glimpse of the rest of the city across the valley.

I have jumped right in with film work and will be editing some existing footage from several villages as soon as we have it translated from Kinyarwanda to English. The language barriers here are multi-fold for me. English is the third most spoken language next to Kinyarwanda and French, and I have already encountered a few situations where I wish I knew French. However, this has not been a significant hindrance and I do not expect it to become one. I did have an exciting encounter in which I began,

"Do you speak English?" A shake of the head.

"Parlez-vous Francais?" A surprising second shake of the head. And then, on a whim,

"Unasema Kiswahili?" A moment of recognition and a response!

We proceeded to speak for a few minutes and she offered me tea, which I accepted. This has been one of only a handful of opportunities to speak Swahili, but it seems like I will have more.

Yesterday, I attended and filmed a Moto Polo match. Moto Polo is polo using motorcycles. It was pretty ridiculous and I am hoping to post a short video about it within the week. The whole occasion had a strange, slightly uncomfortable colonial feel to it because the players were mostly white ex-pats riding on the back of motorcycles maneuvered by Rwandan moto taxi drivers. However, they did pay the drivers and the drivers seemed to be enjoying the whole event just as much as the ex-pats. Regardless, I think it's going to make a pretty hilarious video.

Otherwise, I am doing great and super excited for the upcoming adventure! More to come soon, especially when the internet is fixed at the house.

Love for all,

Reynolds

P.S. My blogspot account seems to be really wacky and difficult to use, especially with posting pictures. I have compared it to the account of some friends and it appears as if I have the earlier version. I am confused as to why it did not automatically update, but if anyone has any suggestions, I would love to hear them. If not, I may make a new blog and direct this one to the new one.

The parking lot just inside the compound on the way to the house

The front porch, the view from one of my bedroom windows

My bedroom

My little bed

Neat art things where we put our shoes in the entryway

Two years later...

2008-09-04T12:50:00.001-07:00

I can hardly believe I have not posted on my own blog in nearly two years, even though I have become a regular contributor to the blog for Episcopalians for Global Reconciliation.

This page was originally intended to document my travels in Europe and East Africa during my semester abroad, and I believe it served its purpose. However, as I embark on new journeys in my life, I would like a central location in which to share these experiences. I think right here will do just fine.

Since my last post, much has happened. I returned to the Eastlands slums of Nairobi to conduct research and film a full-length documentary about Haba na Haba's incredible work. This project became my senior honors thesis and I graduated from Washington University in St. Louis in May of this year. After being accepted to Teach for America to teach elementary school in New York City, I was offered a position as videographer for a new non-profit called Millennium Congregation (MC). They exist to promote the amazing work of Millennium Villages, a development program pursuing all eight Millennium Development Goals at once. After some deliberation, I decided to defer Teach for America and take a leap of faith with a position supported entirely by donors. So, as soon as I have raised the money, I will be traveling to Rwanda to document their stories and promote their vision to congregations across North America. For more information, see my homepage on MC's site here.

I am currently home in Norman, Oklahoma trying desperately to raise the remaining funds needed for me to leave.

To Donate Online
you can go through the Facebook cause at:
http://apps.facebook.com/causes/86053?recruiter_id=1688032

OR (if you're not a facebook member)

http://www.millenniumcongregation.org/donate.html (be sure to type "Millennium Congregation-Fund Reynolds Whalen" in the Memo Field)

To donate by check,
make checks payable to: Church of the Nativity
write "Millennium Congregation-Reynolds Whalen" in the memo field.

Mail to:
Millennium Congregation
c/o Church of the Nativity
8849 Ray Road
Raleigh, NC 27613

I have also created a profile on a nifty site for Independent Film makers. For more on that, check it out:

I sincerely hope that this site will once again be a place you can visit when you are wondering where I am in the world and what I am doing.

Love for all,

Reynolds

A few things about life: final reflection on MYSA

2006-12-10T03:40:00.000-08:00

*This entry contains some explicit descriptions that may be difficult to read*

-------------------------------------------------------

I saw a lot of disturbing things over the past month. I saw extreme poverty, hunger, and violence. I saw suffering, illness, and death. Once, I saw a little girl get run over by a bicycle, sending the small canister of food she was holding fly about twenty feet through the air. Another time, I saw two men fighting. One hit the other in the face, sending him reeling into the street as a huge truck was speeding by. I didn't see the impact because I was passing on a bus, but I heard it. I'm not sure if he lived.

Every day, I saw small children huffing glue out of dirty bottles to stifle their hunger and give them the courage to ask strangers for money so they could extend life one more day. Every day, I saw at least one person lying on the side of the road or in a trash pile who very well could have been dead. I had many tense encounters with people drunk out of their minds on chang'aa, an illegal liquor which causes blindness or death in many of its users. I saw little kids playing in streams and muddy roads full of trash, diseased animals, and human feces.

I saw many things that made me question life and the order of things in this world. But I also heard laughter everywhere I went. I saw the smiles and friendly handshakes of neighbors who rely on each other's business to live. I realized that children will play no matter what situation they are forced to endure. I saw more children playing together than I've ever seen in my life.

Now when I see the slums and the hard life and the pain, I no longer feel like crying the way I did at first. Because I've met and lived with the people who reside there. I've seen the motivation and incredible potential of young people who have very defined goals and dreams.

MYSA has opened a lot of doors to these aspirations. I almost cried in the middle of several video interviews I did with my friends when they said things like "I just want to act. I know I have talent and I want people to see that. I want to make a difference" or "What impact has MYSA and Haba na Haba had on the people of Mathare? Well, you can start with me. I love music and I've always had a talent for it and now I'm doing it. Without MYSA, I might be selling drugs, stealing, or even dead." My friend Bonface told me that most of the kids he grew up with were hanged for stealing or are spending the rest of their lives in jail.

I have never seen anything make as tangible of a difference as this organization. I physically see the impact it has when I pass the kid sniffing glue on my way to a rehearsal where hundreds of other kids have given it up to sing and dance together. Football, dance, music, and drama have given these kids something to look forward to every day. And with the performing arts, it's educating the community at the same time.

At this point, I don't know what else to say. I have so many images and words floating around in my head that just don't make sense written down right now. I know these things will continue to make me think for months and even years to come.

In an e-mail to my dad, I realized that this month has taught me more about humanity and myself than any other component of the trip, even if it wasn't necessarily the most unique experience (compared to hunter/gatherers, pastoralists, drinking goat's blood, the rainforest, etc.). I had a lot of alone time in complete silence that forced me to think about many things related to the experience and about the future, home, and why I'm doing what I'm doing.

I'm now back at the compound in Karen relaxing, putting up a fake Christmas tree and listening to Christmas music in an attempt to make the transition back to the States a little easier. A strange and complex feeling is settling in as I prepare to say goodbye to this place and to my St. Lawrence friends (who I've lived with for five months, so that will be anything but easy) and to re-unite with my family, friends, and Julia. Hopefully I will get a chance to write something again before I leave, but if not, kwaherini na ninapenda nyinyi.

Going into my last week at MYSA

2006-12-05T00:42:00.000-08:00

The 20th Anniversary celebration went off pretty well, despite terrible weather and a field full of mud. Unfortunately, we didn't get to perform due to the coniditions. Everything was outside and the ground was too dangerous for the dancers and acrobats. Hopefully, we'll get to perform this Saturday when we do one of the community outreach programs.

The Norwegian combined piece actually turned out pretty nicely and is a really neat sampling of both cultures. I feel pretty ridiculous doing both, but I'm enjoying it thoroughly.

The other night, we all went out to a bar then to a club called Florida 2000. I had a great time, despite accidentally dancing with one prostitute and getting harrassed and hit on by at least three others. That was weird.

We went to a play in Nairobi on Sunday, which was really nice and the first piece of theater on a stage I've really seen since the Globe. I had dinner that night with one of the guys from Haba na Haba and we had a really good personal conversation. I'm really starting to feel like a part of the group and their friend now, rather than that bearded guy from the U.S. who's volunteering with MYSA.

Yesterday, I had the day off and spent three hours wading through archives at the national newspaper headquarters. I found all kinds of really messed up, but interesting stories about these gangs I'm researching. I set up an interview with an investigative journalist for next Monday and I'm hoping to talk to my government professor as well.

Things are going well and I'm realizing how sad I'll be to leave this place. But I'm equally excited about coming home again. I was just cast in a play for next semester and I'm super pumped! The role actually might require me to keep growing my beard, which would be really funny. Anyway, better run. I need to eat.

Rediscovering the Guitar

2006-12-05T00:39:00.000-08:00

12/1 12:29 a.m. Umoja apartment

I just played guitar with the nicest man named Poppi for about two hours. Most
of the time we just played. We didn't even need to talk, we just communicated
through our music. He grew up in the Democratic Republic of the Congo (then Zaire) and his father refused to let him pursue music. He insisted that Poppi study math, which he did until his father passed away. Now he is a briliant musician and plays in a band but is currently attending school, so doesn't have as much time to play. We played some relaly laid back jazz and I rediscovered some nice progressions and even taught him one he really liked. His soloing style is beautiful and when I
asked him about it, he said he simply plays from the structure of the chords starting from different places on the neck. It's wonderful how nights like this one just seem to happen over here. I am truly rediscovering the guitar.

Norwegian funniness

2006-12-05T00:29:00.000-08:00

11/30 7 p.m. Umoja apartment

Rehearsals for Saturday's 20th Anniversary celebration with the Norwegian drama group have been really interesting. One big part of that is the three languages being thrown around (Swahili, English, Norwegian) and I'm still not used to the extreme lack of organization.

And anytime I try to suggest something to Haba na Haba during their discussions in rehearsal (similar to Whisper business), they start talking about it in rapid Swahili slang so I can't understand it and add input or explain myself better if they're misunderstanding me.

The Norwegian situation is a bit stressful because they don't understand the culture as well as I do and I see miscommunications happening all the time, but never feel like it's my place to say anything. One good example is the original attempt to play syncopated African drums to a 3/4 count Norwegian folk song, which I immediately knew would end in disater. And it did...with all of us doing a funny little line dance kicking thing to a completely different rhythm from either of the other existing two (the drums and the singing) and people tripping over themselves in a comic mess. Then the Norwegians would speak rapid Norwegian to each other and the Kenyans would yell rapid Swahili to each other and I would just kind of mumble to myself in English, trying to hide a grumpy face.

Our attempt at blending traditional dances from both cultures and performing a combined skit about a king (which makes very little sense) drags on for at least half an hour. Then, we were trying to figure out a way to wrap it all up after the song that closes the skit and someone suggested having each individual person (there are about 20 of us) do an individual dance in the middle before exiting. Some of the Norwegians interpreted this as dancing the polka into the middle in pairs,
then re-joining the line. The next 20 minutes or so consisted of a confused debacle where the Kenyans took turns shaking their butts in front of our half-assed semicircle line thing while some of the Norwegians did sporadic little polka jigs, sometimes in pairs and sometimes alone. Then at some point, someone decided we should exit and led everyone out in a sort of follow-the-leader kanga line thing. Then there was some more incomprehensible foreign babble and the Norwegians had to leave so they wouldn't hit rush hour traffic.

The whole ordeal was bizarre. But honestly, this sort of thing barely even stands out over here. I honestly am hardly phased anymore. Despite my cynicism, the cultural dancing stuff is really neat and we have a good time together. And hey, I learned the polka. Julia, get ready :)

In other news, I went to the National Archives and the Daily Nation Media Centre today to research for my paper on slum violence, gangs, Mungiki, and chang'aa. I continue to find more and more fascinating information on the dynamics of this volatile situation. The Haba na Haba people have been extremely helpful and I've interviewed about five of them about personal experiences and observations. I've also done several videoed interveiews about MYSA and the impact of Haba na Haba, which have really blown my mind. These kids have said some of the most inspirational things I've ever heard in my life and I'm really excited to attempt to create a promotional video when I return to the states.

Revelations

2006-11-28T03:39:00.000-08:00

Do you ever wake up in the morning and all of a sudden, something makes sense that didn't before? Julia and I have discussed this and I'm not sure if we're the only ones. My brain has this weird way of processing things while I sleep, which comes in handy for memorizing lines, studying for tests, etc.

This morning I woke up and had maybe five revelations about different aspects of music theory. Teaching these kids guitar and theory has really got me learning it all again. I've been mulling things over in my brain and suddenly things are starting to fall into place like a puzzle. I'm starting to really understand (again) how scales fit together, how everything connects on the guitar, and exactly what goes into building a chord and how chords fit into scales. I understood the basics, but now more and more things are becoming clear every day. It's really neat.

In other news, a Norwegian drama group will be here working with us for the next two weeks. I have mixed feelings about it, but they're really nice and I think we'll have a good time. I'm pretty sure I'll actually be performing with Haba na Haba at the 20th anniversary celebration! I think I'm playing a warrior or something like that. This week is already moving at a better pace than last week and I'm starting to take care of business back home for next semester.

My feelings about returning home in three weeks are definitely mixed. I miss my friends, family, and Julia (dear God I miss her) a lot and I get really excited when I think about seeing them again, but I have a feeling I'll miss all of this more than I realize now. I really think I've found something that combines my passions in a way that makes a substantial difference. This is both exciting and scary. Because now I need to do something about it. And I'm not exactly sure what that is yet.

Anyway, I better run. My guitar students are here.

A truly blessed Thanksgiving

2006-11-27T01:47:00.000-08:00

Last week seemed like an eternity for some reason, but things went pretty well. The workshops went better than I had hoped and I think they really enjoyed the exercises we did.

I think my favorite was the "characterization" workshop on Thursday, which happened to be Thanksgiving. I started by talking for awhile about different Acting Theory like objective, actions, given circumstances, and overcoming obstacles. I was worried these concepts would be too foreign and not necessarily applicable to the kind of work they do. But I was wrong. They embraced the ideas and asked questions, eager to understand better. I was really touched by their desire to learn new things.

At the end of the workshop, I had them perform monologues and performed one myself to show them the format. They had never heard of a monologue before. The work they did was beautiful. Some had memorized parts from skits they perform in the slums, but others had written pieces themselves. They were extremely brave and took direction well and seeing their work improve was incredibly satisfying.

At the end, I asked them to reflect on what they had learned, what was helpful and what wasn't. They actually really enjoyed the monologue exercise and claimed it helped them go deeper into the characters than they did before. To conclude the workshop, I explained the holiday Thanksgiving and what it represents in our culture. They usually pray in a circle after rehearsals, so I volunteered to offer the prayer as a closing to my week of workshops. We stood together in a circle with arms linked and I gave thanks to God for my new friends and the opportunity to learn together in order to make a difference.

That evening, I went back into Nairobi and joined some of the other students from the program doing their IDS in the city. We cooked a simple meal of macaroni and cheese, rolls, maize on the cob, and mixed vegetables. As we shared the food around a small coffee table in our humble little apartment, we went around and talked about those things for which we are thankful. Let me tell you, we had a lot to say. While I missed my family and friends terribly, I thanked God for the unique gathering and realized that this experience truly epitomized the holiday.

Some brief observations

2006-11-22T06:20:00.000-08:00

So, it turns out Lulu and Jack weren't even playing pool when they were arrested. Lulu was waiting on the next game and police officers swarmed into the room cocking fully automatic weapons and making everyone lie flat on their stomachs. As I said before, they thought Jack was too young so they kicked him and slapped him around and made him go home. They did the same to the others before forcing them into the back of a truck in chains.

According to Jack, none of them were actually involved in any gang activity. Most of them were high school students. Most members of Mungiki aren't in school because they make money by "taxing" basic commodities like electricity. They also charge to use the few toilets that exist in Mathare and demand money for "security", claiming they protect the community. If you don't pay these things, they either steal your stuff or kill you.

Today I was in the heart of Mathare for the first time. It's very similar to Kibera, only it has a small dirty stream running through it. I went to visit my friend Alphonse at his house.

I could have built it myself. It was made of tin and wood and certainly leaks when it rains (which is all the time now). He told me he lives in this little room with just one friend. When I asked about his family, he said most kids move out of their home as soon as they can. He explained that sometimes five people will be living in one tiny room...two parents and multiple kids. The only thing separating the kids from the parents' bed is a hanging sheet. Therefore, the kids can hear everything their parents do in bed and "it can be uncomfortable", he says. Yeah, I would say so.

I wish I could go into more detail here about life in the slums, but I don't have time and I'm not sure I could adequately describe it if I tried.

Today the drama group performed for several hundred school kids who were extremely excited to see them. I videoed the whole performance this time and I'm hoping to put together a promotional video when I get home. Tomorrow, they're planning on holding a concert for peace in the middle of Mathare. I'm really interested to see how that turns out and I'm learning more and more every day.

More to come soon, I hope...

Life in the Mathare area

2006-11-19T01:22:00.000-08:00

I'm giving guitar lessons to two kids named Jack and Lulu. Jack is 13 and Lulu is 16. They remind me a lot of myself when I was that age and learning guitar. They do things like try and play a scale too fast because they just want to learn it or play the same thing over and over, determined to get it right. Both of them are really smart, motivated, and eager to learn. They're also incredibly nice and easy-going kids.

On Friday, after the lesson, Lulu was arrested for playing pool at 2:00 in the afternoon for money. They decided Jack was too young to arrest, so they just kicked him around and sent him home. They locked Lulu away in a cell, claimed he was part of a gang called Mungiki, and demanded 200,000 Kenyan shillings as bail.

Two weeks ago, there was some pretty intense violence between two gangs in a nearby slum called Mathare. The gangs call themselves Mungiki and Taliban. Several people were killed and hundreds of homes were burned.

Now, security is extremely tight with a 7:00 p.m. curfew and many people have told me that police are arresting people (especially kids) with no real reason. They blame people for being involved with gangs based solely on their ethnicity or "tribe" or the fact that they're young.

There is no reason Lulu should have been arrested and definitely nothing that should make someone think he's part of a gang. I myself have played pool for money several times in Kenya and no one even had a second thought about it. When I mentioned that to George (the Haba na Haba director), he pointed out that I was probably in a little more upscale area. "That's life in the slums," he said. George himself is an incredible and inspirational guy making a huge difference in community development and working harder than most people I know. His girlfriend is THE web designer for Kenya Airways and another huge East African corporation. They live together in a tiny apartment that's decent, but in a really dirty and impoverished area.

The myth that people living in slums are lazy or unmotivated is completely and totally wrong. I've noticed that many people living in these areas are employed and extremely hard workers. About 90% of Nairobi's population lives on less than 20% of the land area. Every day, I see business men in suits get off of matatus and walk down muddy alleys to tin structures they've built themselves as homes.

Why should they have to live like this? Why does an incredibly intelligent young woman who recently graduated from college and is the primary web designer for Kenya Airways live in a tiny apartment with nothing for streets but giant mud holes filled with dirty water? Why does a brilliant, knowledge-thirsty 16 year-old get beaten and thrown in jail indefinitely with a 200,000 Ksh bail for shooting pool at 2 in the afternoon for a little extra money? Why are people in Kibera forced to consume their own shit because the only place for waste is their own water supply?

I'm sorry. I know this is not constructive and isn't helping anything. I'm just so sick and tired of the smartest, most motivated people I've ever met (now my friends) not being given a chance in life. These people could try harder than anyone you or I know and nothing would happen.

And what really gets me is they're still out helping people.

Saturday morning, I took a bus to Mathare for a feeding program that MYSA had coordinated. When I got off, I had to make my way through a huge crowd for several blocks before I finally squeezed my way up to the gate. These were all the people whose homes had been burned or who were simply too scared to return to their houses at the risk of the wrong person thinking they were part of a gang simply because they're Kikuyu or Luo.

Once inside, I climbed up and looked over the fence. The "line" stretched as far as I could see in every direction. For the next three hours, I stood inside this small compound behind a fifteen-foot wide gate with five thousand people on the other side, waiting to get in. The MYSA guys would open a little door and let twenty people or so in at a time. Every now and then, one of the guys trying to control the crowd would get an elbow in the face or get pushed around and have to force the door shut for a few minutes.

One of the hardest parts of the day was the moment the bags ran out and I had to watch the look on people's faces when they were handed only a bar of soap and a bag of sugar, then eventually, nothing. These people had been standing in pouring rain for four hours. The hardest were the mothers holding infants and the old women on crutches.

Overall, though, the day was a success and several thousand people got essential and basic food supplies. It just blows me away how these guys spend their Saturdays taking risks just to feed their own neighbors.

After the feeding program, I went with the drama group (most of whom had helped with the food as well) to a juvenille home for a performance. Again, I remembered why I was drawn to this program and how powerful music and drama can be. I watched these kids gather in their courtyard and saw the visible change on their faces once the performances started. A lot of the kids in the audience were about the same age as the MYSA kids and they got a kick out of seeing them dance, play the drums, and do acrobatics.

The drama section was definitely the biggest hit, though. They always start their performance by gathering in a circle, singing, and going into the center in pairs to do a little dance where they grind their butts together. It's hilarious and the kids always love it. Their favorite part was when one of the MYSA guys went into the crowd, grabbed one of the administrators, and made her dance with him in the middle of the circle. Then they performed their skit, drawing everyone in with humor, then delivering a powerful message about protecting yourself from HIV/AIDS.

Those few hours gave the kids an exciting and fun activity in the midst of an otherwise dull day. In a way, I saw it give them hope. And maybe just ten of those kids will use a condom if they decide to have sex. Maybe they'll tell a few of their friends to do the same. Once they're released from the home, maybe a few of them will even get involved with MYSA and spend their time educating communities instead of abusing drugs, committing crimes, or becoming prostitutes.

I am really glad I chose this as my IDS. The past week has definitely had ups and downs, as I'm sure the remaining three will. But the work these people are doing is inspirational and breathtaking to watch. I feel lucky to get to work with such an incredible group of people in an area with such a vibrant, kind, and resilient community.

My Independent Study Project

2006-11-16T04:21:00.000-08:00

I realized that my previous plan to play catch-up is probably not feasable at this point. I've moved away from the compound and am staying in one of the Nairobi slums for the next three and a half weeks. My internet access comes from the office of the place I'm working and is limited, especially since people have to use it for other business.

Anyway, I'm currently working with Mathare Youth Sports Association (MYSA) with their performing arts-based HIV/AIDS education program. They go into 16 Nairobi slums and perform skits about HIV/AIDS, women's rights, drug use, and child abuse. I am currently teaching two guitar players how to read music as well as scales and other helpful theory exercises. I am starting general lessons for anyone interested on Monday.

Next week, I am leading two-hour workshops everyday about drama. I'm pretty nervous about that because I'm definitely not qualified for that kind of instruction, but I figure I'll just show them everything I know. The schedule is as follows:

Mon- Warm-ups
Tues- Voice
Wed- Characterization
Thurs- Script Writing
Fri- Script Writing

The idea of the script writing workshops are to brainstorm as a group and come up with a new skit they can use in their repertoire. These four weeks promise to be amazing. The kids are so energetic and optimistic, which is a relief in a field of study which is full of jaded, pessimistic humanitarians.

I hope to have time to copy some journal entries about previous experiences during these next four weeks, but I don't know what kind of time I will have. If nothing else, I can post them when I return to the compound or even when I go home in December. Also, you can shoot me an e-mail anytime (lrwhalen@wustl.edu) and I will try to answer any questions.

Love you all! Hope everything is well.

Reynolds

The Hadzabe

2006-11-02T12:42:00.000-08:00

From September 16-23 we lived and learned about the Hadzabe of Tanzania, some of the last remaining hunter/gatherers in the world.

9/18-----12:09 p.m.

“The bugs here are nuts. I’ve been bitten by at least one hundred tsetse flies and swarmed by gnats. There’s virtually no way to escape.

Today (this morning) we foraged with the Hadzabe. We dug for roots with sharpened sticks, picked and ate berries, harvested and ate honey, learned how to start a fire with sticks, then roasted and ate the roots. This morning, I woke up on the top of a giant boulder heap as the sun was just beginning to rise in the direction I was facing. It was literally the first thing I saw when I opened my eyes. I pulled the drawstring tight on my sleeping bag and sat in my cocoon for half an hour as the sun came up behind an acacia tree. Great plains of baobab trees stretch as far as the eye can see.

Some fascinating things about the Hadzabe: the government comes and takes their children to put them in schools. They live in groups of three to five families and move when there’s no more food in the area. From the readings, we know there is no system of governance or power structures. They just respect older people more. If someone tries to take a position of authority, they are discouraged by the rest of the group. Their social organization is very fluid because one family just decides to move and others (whoever feels like it) join them. It’s unbelievable that they’ve been living this way for hundreds of thousands of years. They buy/trade for tobacco, tools, and metals. This creates a partnership between themselves and the pastoralists who have been forced to share the lands.

I saw some interesting “nature” things today. There’s a type of acacia tree that has little red nut-type things on it. Inside the nuts are a bunch of little ants. When the nut is disturbed, the ants swarm out on the trespasser. This keeps giraffes and other animals from eating the acacia.

The Hadzabe live in a symbiotic relationship with a honey bird that eats bees. Unfortunately, the bird can’t get into the hive by itself. So when it finds a beehive, it cries out and the Hadzabe follow the sound of the bird. When they arrive, they open the beehive and let the bird eat the bees. Then they eat the honey and some of the eggs, leaving just enough for the hive to regenerate so they don’t deplete the resources. I love how these people don’t try to separate themselves from other creatures, but rely on them and co-exist naturally with them.”

9/19----1:44 p.m.

“This morning, we split into five groups and went hunting with the Hadza security guys from our camp. Our dude killed a guinea fowl in the first twenty minutes, which was the only kill of the day for all the groups. We tracked animals for four hours and saw dik-dik (mini deer), kudu, guinea fowl, impala, and bush babies. After he shot the guinea fowl, our hunter beat its head against a rock to kill it then strapped it to his waist by its head with a strip off a nearby branch. It was strange to realize that the bow, arrows, and axe he carried were very possibly his only possessions. It is too ridiculously hot up on this rock to write more now, so I have to stop.”

So, a brief reflection on events I didn’t mention here...

The Hadzabe use poisoned arrows for bigger game. To test the poison, they cut their legs and let the blood run down a few inches. When they touch the poison to the blood, it turns black and starts heading back into the wound. If they don’t wipe it off quick enough, they die. Pretty intense, huh?

Everywhere we went in Tanzania, we rode in huge lorry trucks that were open air. It was really cool for seeing everything, but also exposed us to the infestation of tsetse flies. After the last journal entry above, we climbed a huge baobab tree using sharpened sticks as footholds on the way up. We also made arrows and shot them with the Hadzabe.

The activities on the trip were incredible, but I also learned a TON. The government is attempting to change the way the Hadzabe live by encroaching on their lands and encouraging agriculture. This has caused an interesting change in culture and the beginnings of a transition to "modernism." This raises all sorts of fascinating questions and issues that I simply can’t write about here because of the magnitude and complexity of the problems. I think the best way for me to portray these things is by answering questions, so bring it on!

An apology

2006-11-02T12:39:00.000-08:00

So, I realize it’s been about a month since I updated my blog. So much has happened that I just get overwhelmed when considering the prospect of writing intelligently about it...so I’m just going to write unintelligently about it. I think the best way to get caught up is to copy straight from the journals I’ve been writing and maybe add a few things as I go. To make things more organized, I’ll do several separate posts and see what happens. Here we go...

My article in Student Life

2006-09-13T13:48:00.000-07:00

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.

Mount Longonot

2006-09-09T10:14:00.000-07:00

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.

Update from Nairobi

2006-09-08T14:03:00.000-07:00

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!

Some pictures from Chemosot

2006-09-03T11:41:00.000-07:00

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

My Kenyan family

2006-09-03T06:43:00.000-07:00

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

Kiswahili and Kipsigis

2006-08-22T07:53:00.000-07:00

The past two days we've been having Swahili class for four hours in the morning and I have over eight pages full of notes. We're learning so quickly that I can barely speak anything, even English, when we get out of class. I'm actually processing Swahili better than French, Arabic, and especially Latin. We're learning in groups of seven, which is nice and provides good individual attention. My teacher is engaging and challenging and has a great sense of humor. Hopefully when I get back I'll be able to communicate sufficiently at a basic level.

On Friday, I leave for a week to stay with a family in rural Kenya. The ethnic group is the Kipsigis and they are primarily tea farmers. My family is run by a single mother (the father is deceased) with five children who are all in school. We are encouraged to blend in with the family and operate as a guest only for the first night. After our first night we are expected to be treated and to act as another member of the family. I hope I can join them in the tea fields and learn how they operate in daily life. I will most likely be using a pit latrine (basically a hole in the ground) and bathing out of a bucket or bin. For me, this is the ideal way to really understand daily life in this area. I am incredibly excited, but trying not to go in with too many expectations. It's comforting to know that the program specifically requests that we not be treated differently. On my trip to Uganda three summers ago, many of the students were treated as royalty on their school visits and didn't get to experience life as the students who study there every day.

I'm also glad that we're not expected to bring our cell phones with us. I will be out of contact with anyone outside the community for the entire week, which will be relaxing and a much needed relief.

On another note, our time here in Karen and Nairobi has already been a lot of fun. Last night, we all went out to a bar in Karen and met some really friendly local people. I got destroyed in a game that somewhat resembled pool and had some great conversations with other students on the program. I also played four extremely intense games of ping pong on a table at the compound that is painted with the Kenya flag.

The compound itself where we're staying is EXTREMELY nice, even by American standards. It reminds me of Camp Greystone, a summer camp in North Carolina that costs $5,000 to attend for a few weeks. At first, I commented in my head "man, this just isn't Africa." But then I reminded myself that it's all Africa. This represents a part of society that is just as real as the huts, farming, goats, and traditional rain dances of other areas. In fact, it illuminates a fascinating contrast between rich and poor in Kenya that continues to be addressed in politics and daily street conversation. It's important not to impose one's own ideas of what Africa or any culture should look like. It's all real and it's all valuable to understanding the larger picture...the successes, the rich culture, the problems, and the solutions.

I may not write again for at least a week after we return from the homestays. I'm not sure. But until then, kwaherini.

Into Africa

2006-08-20T11:32:00.000-07:00

Wow, I don't even know where to start. My entrance into Africa has been so different from my past experiences. The last two times, I've eased into the culture by starting in a more upscale place and moving gradually into living with the local people in their homes and adopting their lifestyles. This time, I traveled alone to Nairobi, then got in a land rover with my uncle/second cousin and rode through the back country of Kenya and Uganda for a week. Now I'm in the nicest compound I've ever seen in Africa and I played volleyball on a freshly mowed lawn the first night I was here.

To bring everyone up to date, I flew into Nairobi on August 11th and met Joe Holt who is my mom's cousin. Joe is about 6'7" and absolutely huge. As soon as I met him, I felt I was in good hands. He's loud and friendly and fits perfectly in Africa.

We spent the first few days in Nairobi shopping for our trip and saying hello to about a hundred different people. Joe knows pretty much everyone. We also visited the old train yard and saw the largest functioning steam engine in the world which was used on the original Kenya/Uganda railway during colonialism. For those Africa nerds out there, this railway connected the Indian Ocean at Mombasa with Lake Victoria at Kisumu. The project took years, millions of British pounds, and numerous lost lives. For those movie buffs out there, the film Ghost in the Darkness about a lion that kills a bunch of people who are constructing a railway...that's the one. Anyway, I got a taste of history and got to see the bowels of a working steam engine for the first time.

On Sunday we climbed into the land rover with Joe's friend Dave and his son Tim from Canada, and headed to a game park called Masai Mara. This time of year is unique in this area because the animals of the Serengeti are migrating across the park and you are guaranteed to see hundreds and hundreds of zebras and wildabeests. We camped for two nights and saw tons of wildlife, including an elephant and a group of monkeys in our camp. The monkeys were climbing all over the tents and subtely moving closer and closer to our food. Luckily, the elephant wasn't as bold.

On the second day, Joe hired a Masai guide to sit in the passenger seat and help direct us to the animals. We saw dozens of animals including: lions, elephants, hippos, crocodiles, gazelles, zebras, wildabeests, giraffes, a leopard, a cheetah, warthogs, a hyena, and waterbuck. We had incredible luck the entire time. We saw a lion hunting a pack of zebras, crouching and crawling through high grass. We saw a cheetah eat a Thomson's gazelle, then proceed to sit in the shadow of our vehicle right outside my window. The thing was so close I could have reached out and poked it on the nose. Boop. We also saw a baby gazelle trying to drink milk under its mother. The mom wouldn't have it so the baby went over to another adult and nudged it, only to get head butted and shoved away. The baby was wobbly on its new legs and cute as a doorknob (I really couldn't think of a good simile there). We also visited a Masai village and saw them make fire with sticks. The Masai people are a pastoralist group in the Great Rift Valley of Kenya. They also performed a dance for us, which made me a little uncomfortable because I know the dance is specifically for tourists who have caused them to get kicked off their land. Overall, the experience was fascinating and I'm still trying to process everything.

After Masai Mara, we drove through the hills of Western Kenya up to Kisumu on Lake Victoria. My hotel room was on the fifth floor and had an incredible view of the lake and several islands. We basically just relaxed and enjoyed the area for a night before leaving the next day for Uganda.

We spent several hours trying to travel the several hundred feet between the Kenya and Uganda border. During that time, I talked with one of hundreds of begging children and showed him our guide book to Kenya. The thirst for knowledge and intense desire to learn here always blows me away. When we left, I gave him money to buy shoes and a picture of my family. That night, we arrived in Jinja at the source of the Nile.

The next day was completely absurd. I went whitewater rafting on some of the most powerful rapids in the world. We hit about eight level 5 rapids, which are the strongest that you can raft. Our boat flipped five times and I got sucked under more than once. I always resurfaced hundreds of feet downstream and never knew how close I would be to the boat. It was a blast. On most rapids you don't want the boat to flip because of the rocks, but the Nile is deep enough to be less of a hazard. We had lunch on the boat during a long flat stretch of river and I ate the best pineapple I've ever had.

From Jinja, we drove to Entebbe to spend the night and I caught a flight to Nairobi the next morning. Unfortunately, the engines on my plane were not functioning so I had to wait in the airport for four hours and miss the beginning of the study abroad program's orientation. It actually wasn't that big of a deal and I got a little extra time to unwind. And it didn't take me too long to get caught up and right in the swing of things once I got there.

The St. Lawrence University Kenya Semester Program (SLU-KSP) compound is in a wealthy suburb of Nairobi. It is the nicest place I've been in Africa. Maybe I'll post pictures at some point. My posts will be sporadic at this point because we are gone for weeks at a time without internet access. Anyway, the students on the program are wonderful and I'm already enjoying myself immensely. We went into Nairobi today and walked around in groups which was a nice orientation for me, even though I've been in the city twice before. There's something different about being on your own and knowing it will be your home for a few months.

I'm extremely tired right now, so I'm going to stop. I'm hoping to be able to go a little more in depth in future posts, but so much is happening so quickly right now that it's tough to keep up. Hope all is well back in the States!

Heathrow Terrorism

2006-08-11T00:48:00.000-07:00

I'm sitting in Heathrow Airport in London waiting for my flight to Kenya. I find it absurd that I took the Eurostar yesterday and am flying on a plane out of Heathrow today, both of which were targets for the attempted terrorist attacks yesterday. You would not believe the security here. Anything you carry on has to be in a special plastic bag they provide. You can only bring your passport/essential documents and emergency supplies if you have a medical condition. They wouldn't even let me bring a packet of readings for the Kenya program with me. Luckily, I've only slept maybe 3 or 4 hours in the past 50 hours so I'll probably sleep most of the time anyway. There are also soldiers with machine guns, police with dogs, personnel with yellow vests, and many people with grumpy faces. I find it all kind of amusing, actually. I mean, we're all so equally helpless under the system. If they want to x-ray my entire body in lieu of normal security procedures (which they did) I just nod and take off my shoes and belt. Several times in the last few days, especially in the middle of the night, I've just started laughing at it all. Which made me laugh more last night because I was just standing by myself in my underwear in a random London airport hotel...laughing. I guess I'm not that terrorized. Sorry, Al-Qaeda. Well, I'm going to go find my gate now and see what other adventures are in store. Hopefully, the next post will be from Kenya. Peace.

Some pictures from France

2006-08-09T17:20:00.000-07:00

Me and Michel right outside his house before our hike.

Michel and Kalou's back porch at sunset.

The mountains somewhere near the beginning of our hike.

A view somewhere in the middle of our hike when the wind was numbing my face.

Wild mountain pony!!!

Hike scenery.

One of my favorite hike pictures. And I took a lot, even though I was moving when I took them.

One of the dozens of old churches I've visited on this trip. This one was from the 11th or 12th century and had some really interesting architecture.

Me, Michel, and Kalou on top of Puy de Dome, off of which I would jump in the next half hour. With a paraglider of course.

Roman ruins, more specifically a temple to Mercury, on the top of Puy de Dome.

Some pictures from Scotland

2006-08-09T16:06:00.000-07:00

Here are just a few of the seemingly billion pictures I took in Scotland. I've decided to post pictures in the biggest size format, so if people have trouble uploading them please let me know.

For those Braveheart fans out there, this is the actual sword of William Wallace. Not a replica. Seriously. I almost peed my pants when I saw it. The sword is almost five and a half feet tall, which means William Wallace had to be at least 6'6" according to the plaque on the wall, which didn't make it into the picture.

The school that inspired J.K. Rowling's Hogwarts. Not a great picture (it was night and we were in a graveyard for a ghost tour), but I figured people would want to see it anyway.

Me on top of the Wallace Monument. INCREDIBLE view. The picture really doesn't do it justice. None of my landscape pictures really do. It's impossible to capture that sort of thing and the experience really involves all your senses. Sounds trite, but it's true.

Edinburgh at sunset.

King Kelly and Queen Reynolds in the Stirling Castle great hall.

The whole gang minus Nick: Sari, Reynolds, Dara, Kelly, Noga, and Jonathan on the first level of the Scott monument.

On the way up Arthur's Seat, a dormant volcano in the middle of Edinburgh. You could see the sea, city, and mountains from the top.

Me with a reenactment dude at Stirling Castle

Edinburgh from the top of the Scott monument. The plateau-looking thing in the background is the volcano we climbed.

We went to numerous old churches and cathedrals and this is probably my favorite picture of all of them. I believe it was in St. Giles cathedral in Edinburgh.

Paragliding

2006-08-09T11:20:00.000-07:00

This trip has been so ridiculous in the best sense of the word. Today, I jumped off a 4,000 ft. volcano called Puy de Dome with a large piece of cloth strapped to my body. I called it hang-gliding, but apparently the word is paragliding. It's more of a parachute than a hanger I guess. Anyway, what an amazing experience. I did it tandem with a French guy who knows what he's doing and takes people out every day. We got some pretty good pictures which I'll try to post later, but I forgot my video camera which was a bummer. Man, I can't even begin to describe the sensation. The French dude at one point said in broken English "We are like bird." From that point on, I couldn't get that stupid Nelly Fertada (spelling? ah, who cares) song out of my head. It was actually a lot less scary than I thought it would be, but a lot more nauseating. I had a strange sort of motion sickness. No vomitting though, which was nice. One of my favorite parts was flying over another smaller volcano and seeing a huge herd of sheep make their way down the mountain thousands of feet below us. Man, it was nuts. Michel and Kalou actually paid for it, which was beyond nice because it was 70 Euros. I tried to protest, but they insisted. They have been incredibly generous and overly hospitable and I don't know if I'll be able to thank them enough. I plan to send them a really nice gift from Kenya as soon as I get there. Well, they're calling me for dinner. Apparently, they are surprising me and taking me to a restaurant. Man, what a spectacular week. Look for pictures from Scotland and France sometime in the near future. Au revoir!!!

Some pictures from the Globe Program

2006-08-07T15:18:00.000-07:00

Yeah, I put a hole in the door on the Globe stage. It was part of the set for a new pirate play. The Globe occasionally runs shows that don't belong to the bard.

Here's me and Julia on top of Snowdon Mountain in Wales. We took a cute little steam engine to the top. I believe Snowdon is the biggest mountain in Wales and is the setting for parts of the King Arthur legends. I think I said that in an earlier post, but oh well. It's cool enough to say twice.

Me and Kelly during the second sword fighting class. Check out my broad sword! Sweet.

The Globe theater right before we saw Titus Andronicus. I moved down to the stage for the second half.

For those Pink Floyd fans out there...

Me during a special lecture on Elizabethan clothing. The costume I'm wearing was handmade in the Elizabethan style with traditional cloth and many traditional dyes. Some dyes from the time, like crushed insects, are impractical in a modern setting.

P.S. I'm still new to this blog thing and posting pictures, so bear with me until I can figure out how to make it look better. This may have to do.

The most beautiful place I've ever been

2006-08-07T11:27:00.000-07:00

Michel Quereuil goes mountain biking three times a week in the summer and skiis three times a week in the winter. When he said we were going hiking today, he wasn't kidding around. We hiked 15 km in 3 hours around a mountain range and up the tallest mountain in central France, which was about 6,000 ft tall. Apparently, a guide book says it should take 5 1/2 hours. We hiked the first hour non-stop, then took 45 seconds or so to drink a bit of water. After another hour and fifteen minutes, Michel stopped and with his limited English proclaimed "fucking wind" as we both put on jackets. We literally didn't break stride for the rest of the trip. What a bad ass. The top had a strong, bone-chilling wind which couldn't have been warmer than 40 degrees. This lasted almost ten minutes while we were in short sleeves and another twenty or so once we had on jackets. The massive amount of sweat I had accumulated disappeared rather quickly and I thought it would freeze to my head. This may not have been the best decision as I recover from pneumonia. Sorry, mom and Julia. I know you're probably worried.

Some of the views we saw were worth all of that and more. I don't even know how to begin describing this place. After a bit, I just stopped taking pictures because they weren't coming close to capturing what my senses were experiencing together. As a religious person, I looked God right in the face today. What a shame that we're destroying this planet with our excessiveness. It's a good one. We made several animal friends, including deer, cows, wild horses, and a viper that may or may not have been poisonous. We also passed numerous adorable puppies closer to the base of the mountain where families had decided to spend the day. One of my favorite parts was exclaiming "Bonjour!" to people as we passed. You don't have to speak fluent French to get that one right. Sweet. Coming here was a great choice and I'm really going to enjoy relaxing and reading my Kenya materials over the next three days. Dinner is almost ready and I'm starving, so I better go now. Bonsoir!

French food

2006-08-07T04:41:00.000-07:00

I have died and gone to food heaven. When I arrived last night, I ate amazing French bread, duck, cured sausage, mushrooms, rasberry jam in vanilla yogurt (rasberries were wild and picked on the mountain I'm about to hike for three hours), port with peach cremè liquer, and red wine with dinner. I am now being called to lunch. Awesome. I'll write more after the afternoon hike. Perhaps tonight.

First, have a nap...zen fire ze missiles!!!

2006-08-06T14:30:00.000-07:00

I am writing from the house of my dad's friend, Michel, outside Clermont Ferrand, France. He lives on a lake in the mountains. Awesome.

Today was the longest day I've had in awhile. We got up at 2:30 a.m. in Glasgow to catch a plane in Paris. As soon as we arrived, I had to split with the group in an effort to find my train station. I had to speak a surprisingly large amount of French and had several hilariously awkward encounters, but I got over it and worked everything out eventually. I finally got into Clermont at 6 p.m. It is now almost 11:30 here and I didn't even nap much today apart from some restless dozing on the train. So, I'm going to go to bed soon. I tried uploading some pictures from the Globe, but it's taking forever on this computer so I'll have to try later. Sorry for such a boring post. I'll have more time on this computer later this week and can update then. Au revoir!

from Glasgow...

2006-08-05T13:41:00.000-07:00

So, this is the first chance I've had to get on the internet since we started traveling after the Globe. It's a little over $6 per hour!! I only have 10 minutes remaining after e-mail and facebook, so I'll have to make this quick. The Globe finished up wonderfully and I'm extremely glad I did it, even though I now owe the United States government thousands of dollars. The master classes were wonderful and we got to perform on the actual stage several times. I had minor food poisoning for our final performance, which was a major bummer, but I got over it. The day after the program ended, I traveled to Exeter with Dara, Noga, Jonathan, Kelly, Sari, and Nick. We spent a day boating on a river and visiting a cathedral where they were having an Evensong service. Then, I came down with an intense fever and lay in bed for awhile. That was cool. The night before we left for Scotland, we watched braveheart and ate pizza. Hilarious. Edinburgh was a blast and I finally sucked it up and went to the hospital to see what was wrong with me. I had pneumonia. Go figure. I feel great now, though. Thank you, antibiotics! In Edinburgh, we saw the enormous castle, went on haunted graveyard tours, and went to the zoo. I know what you're thinking. Why would you go to a zoo in Edinburgh when there's so much else to see? Well, this zoo had the biggest penguin exhibit in the world and they let them out at a certain time to run around this path and you can line the path and they can waddle up to you. Well, you get the idea. The last day in Edinburgh was my favorite. We climbed a dormant volcano right outside the city, which offered an absolutely breathtaking view with mountains, ocean, and the city stretched out on all sides. Leaving felt a bit premature, but we had fun in Stirling, which has a monument to William Wallace (Braveheart). I saw the actual sword he used in his fight against the English. Then, we were on our way to Glasgow, which is where I am now. Today, we took a bus tour and passed a museum that had Salvador Dali's Christ on the Cross, but it was closed and we leave at 4 in the morning tomorrow. Bummer. Julia, I know that kills you. Anyway, my time is about to expire, which will make me lose everything I've written if I don't stop soon. Hopefully, there will be more thorough and well-written posts in the somewhat-near future. Cheers.

Swords and Wales

2006-07-18T05:00:00.000-07:00

I just got out of a sword/stage combat session, which was amazing. Caitlin, I have a sexy video of me sword fighting. I know you have a thing for guys with swords :) Anyway, we have a day off tomorrow, which is much needed and will be really nice. Julia and I spent last weekend in Wales. It was one of the most surreal and incredible trips I've ever taken. On the last day, we hitchhiked with a really nice couple who worked in a pub at the foot of Snowdon (the tallest mountain in Wales and the setting for the King Arthur legend). We had spent the day on a steam train that climbed to the peak of the mountain and took some amazing pictures. We actually saw the lake that is home to "The Lady of the Lake". So we got a ride with these two back to the town where our train was departing. We stopped at their flat so they could change out of work clothes, then went to a pub and bought them and ourselves a round of drinks. We had a wonderful couple of hours telling stories and exchanging information, then boarded the train back to London. Jonathan, if we make it out here next summer, we've got a sweet place to stay for free. They both do outdoor instruction in rock climbing, mountain biking, horse riding, etc. Sound like it'd be right up our alley. Well, I have to run and change before we have our first off-book run of the final scenes. I also haven't eaten anything today. I know, very uncharacteristic. Hope everything is swell back home! Peace.

Busy Busy Busy

2006-07-13T12:47:00.000-07:00

Man, this program at the Globe Theatre is extremely intense. I haven't even had a chance to get on the computer until right now and we've been here almost two weeks. The program is amazing. We've had workshops with professionals in voice, movement, stage combat (Elizabethan swords), and textual analysis. We're also learning a great deal about the history of Shakespeare's time and the birth of theaters in London. The best part is that we're on the site of the original theaters as we're learning about them. We hear about Shakespeare's company hauling timbers across the Thames river onto the south bank to build the Globe as we're actually standing on the bank. My only wish is that we actually had free time to explore other parts of the city. I'm having trouble finding the time to even see shows apart from those at the Globe. We're working on monologues, (which we've actually performed on the Globe stage) at the same time as memorizing lines for scenes, seeing the plays we're reading, writing essays in response to the plays, and being in class for ten hours some days. Hopefully, we'll find more free time as the program goes on. Tomorrow, Julia and I head to Wales, which should be amazing. At the moment, I am sitting outside of a rehearsal for our scenes and our break is almost over. I hope to write more frequently as soon as I get my bearings. I would also like to upload some pictures because there are some amazing ones of me in full Elizabethan garb. Better run. More to come soon.

Whew

2006-06-29T21:06:00.000-07:00

Well, I'm finally finished packing and able to relax a little. I'm actually playing golf tomorrow morning, which will be a nice change of pace. It's pretty amazing that I'll be traveling to the country where golf originated (Scotland) in about a month.

Now that I've spent a frantic week scrambling to secure last minute plans, I look forward to a few days of focusing inward and preparing mentally before my arrival in Gatwick airport. I think this may be the most important thing I can do right now. The next post will most likely be from London. Awesome.

first post

2006-06-24T23:19:00.000-07:00

Well, here I am entering the world of blogs. What a funny word. Hopeully this will serve as an effective means of portraying these next six months. This picture is one taken during my trip to Sudan a little over a year ago. I think I will use it as my profile picture. More to come soon...