What I've learned

Here are a few things I’ve come to learn and realize in the last week:

1. Ujamaa is like a boat which my project is trying to board. Every now and then a bit more of my project latches onto the side, clinging for dear life as the Ujamaa boat slowly putters along. Often these pieces are forgotten and slowly fall off. Maybe the sides of the vessel have been polished too well, but I think its because the crew doesn't care to exert the effort to pull them fully on board.

2. I’ve found that in life, around other people, you spend most of your time butting heads, doubting them, assuming things, questioning others, and eventually allowing them some of your trust. The trust is often misplaced, which makes you continue all the previously mentioned activities. Doing work in management in a foreign culture has really exposed me to those feelings, as they have been constantly present.

3. The most stressful thing in life, which is something you can’t avoid, is making choices. Sometimes they’re made for you, but usually you have to pull together your brain, heart, and guessing facilities to make them – and you can never be sure if you were 100% right. In foreign environments choices become harder. You don’t know the lay of the land. You end up making choices instinctually – especially when trying to figure out prices.

4. Meetings where all issues are addressed and flushed out are invaluable. I few times it happens, filling you with a sense of accomplishment. Here, it rarely happens. The meeting style (which I will describe in detail in a later post) causes that failure.

5. In Kenya, grading is public and often negative. Reading out loud and passing out of grades and comments is common. The students are not that ashamed, but it can’t be good for motivating improvement. They defended themselves, opened discussions on their marks, are happy for each other. In the end, it has been accepted.

6. Energizers for a learning environment are amazing tools. At the learning program run last week an energizer ranged from short dance to team activity to just yelling “put your hands in the air” and “put your hands on the ground”. There were so many I can’t even remember them all. The group always responded, and was more attentive for the next short while. It explains the incredible effectiveness of the “clap, clap, clap clap clap…clap clap” that my dad’s used in 4th grade, which remains drilled into my head.

There is lots more that I learn and realize, so there will be more to come! That’s all I can think of for now. Just some food for though…

Tuesday was Documentation Day...

Tuesday was Documentation Day. The main component that drives my project is documentation. All the Community Mobilizers (CMs) were there (the ones who could make it) to dive into improving the way they document their work. Throughout planning, implementing, and observing the workshop, I learned more than I could have imagined.

I spent some time structuring the workshop with the trainer that we contracted for the workshop. We brainstormed, we came up with activity ideas, and we made room for all priorities to be met. Doing that planning was seriously inspirational. Thorough exhausting of ideas excites me, it motivates me to work hard on expanding those ideas and getting others on board. Others I know can agree that working with others in a constructive manner is uplifting. It also gave me my first experience as a teacher making lesson plans. I never doubted you Mom and Dad, but this furthered my respect for how much work planning and preparing for education is! In the next couple weeks I compiled numerous documents and went through many hurdles to get them perfected and produced. In the end, the day came around and I was still essentially blind to what I would be doing.

The day’s morning session was not run by me. The consultant trainer, Eunice, works heavily with guilt and negativity. She told everybody that they didn’t know stuff, that they were doing things wrong, etc, etc. It was hard for me to listen to and accept. She did not work constructively. The psychology of adult education is unique and teaching adults requires a much different approach. Adults are more aware and are less susceptible to chastising. I frequently wanted to intervene, get her more on track, and stop her from ruining the afternoon session.

The afternoon session, run by me, started again with Eunice telling everyone they were wrong wrong wrong! I intervened and asked if we could use the current activity to segway into my session. A good decision, but a rough start. The afternoon session follows lunch. I had to start by handing out papers and explaining them. Together, food and lecture very effectively put everyone to sleep. A shout for an energizer (I’ll explain the use of energizers in my next post) led to a fantastic activity with some singing and dancing that woke up everybody. That also gave me time to reflect, to understand the work ahead of me, to prioritize, and to direct myself.

My session was on the format of reporting the CMs produce and the system of documentation Ujamaa will be following. The fieldwork done is Ujamaa’s foundation – conveying it effectively is central to everything related to Monitoring, Evaluation, and Accountability.

Coming out of the energizer, I quickly brushed over the documents again, going through set formats of reports that we conceptualized. I led that into a discussion. I tried to bring out the ineffectiveness of broad language. They are all culprits of reporting with broad language, with terms such as “capacity building” and “village meeting” dominating reports. Can people get any real information from those terms? No! We discussed the importance of going a few levels deeper – what did you build capacity in, what did you hold a meeting on, who was the meeting/training aimed at? It was quite a wall to break down. There is a long way to go to really expand that language. Working in development causes you to rethink many assumptions. These people I work with are intelligent and aware, but there are some basic skills they lack. Bringing those out and fighting with ingrained practices was quite a learning process.

Earlier they had written a report in a group. I had them reform the groups and try to use our discussion and the formats I had given them to rewrite the report. That activity legitimated my entire project. They asked a million questions about: what do you mean by expectations, what sort of agenda was there, is this title effective, what were my challenges? Flushing out the requirements for each section of the report format seemed to incur a step towards reporting enlightenment. The morning talked about data collection and analysis. Discussing the new report each group had furthered the realizations and understanding of what each section contained, where to put thoughts, what thoughts to include. It tied together all we had talked about for the whole day.

There process was not easy to get through and I doubted myself from the start. My workshop session was my first teaching experience where the material I presented was new and my own. It was liberating, but brought on huge insecurities. I loved it.

The Value of a Life

Sitting atop the food chain as humans, we don't see lives as things that begin and end. They have to high a price to be so simple. For myself and my compatriots as members of the Western World, that feeling is even more pronounced.

The other day I was at a meeting in a village way out in the middle of a forest here on the coast of Kenya. I sat in a plastic chair on a dirt patch and listened discuss forming a bee keeper's cooperative. The meeting, being all in Swahili, was a little hard for me to follow, so my gaze wandered to a millipede crawling around on the ground. Millipedes have incredible foot motion, where bunches of their legs move together in a way that creates a wave-like motion. Millions of years of evolution and natural selection made that possible. As the fascinating creature made its way towards the edge of the circle of chairs the meeting had formed, its life, probably incredibly important to itself, became inconsequential.

The man speaking shifted the position of his foot about two inches and when he lifted his foot again, there was the millipede, smashed into the red African dirt. Why was the millipede there? Who decided that it was his time to go? Was that the way it was supposed to happen? Those questions are answered in a million and one ways today as our beliefs evolve, but no matter your belief, the millipede was unlucky. Be it pure coincidence or bad karma, he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. In a moment, his all important existence (with perspective) was ended.

Consciousness is a blessing and even more so a burden. As humans we can understand and value our lives beyond pure survival instinct. Each society and each human values life differently, death is death, but sometimes its DEATH. Needless to say, we aren't ants who blindly sacrifice ourselves for the sake of the colony, and we step on ants without considering how they might feel about the usefulness of their existence, but we seldom consider how privileged we are to be alive.

Traffic Laws and Corruption

By driving around the streets of Mombasa with various people, it’s clear to see that nobody likes the way people generally drive. The aggressive and dangerous driving methods in Kenya are rooted in the habits of matatus. To drive in Kenya you need to know how to courageously cut off matatus and force your way into unyielding traffic.

Infrastructurally, the road system is pretty bad (no where near as bad as many countries in the developing world, but still not good). The roads are narrow and full of potholes which destroy a car’s suspension and undercarriage. There are a few traffic lights around the country, but rarely are they respected. Essentially traffic police do not exist. The police that stand roadside watch cars to ensure they have the right registration and OCCASIONALLY direct traffic, god forbid they have a vehicle by which to chase down traffic violators. Any police car you see is crammed full of policemen and is only transporting those men, not looking for law breakers.

It came to me pretty quickly – what would happen if traffic laws were enforced?

1. A huge amount of money would be collected from the magnitude of tickets that would be issued.
2. Money made from traffic infractions could be used to widen roads, put up traffic lights and traffic control signs, employ more police officers, and even provide the police with vehicles and equipment.
3. Traffic would decrease as congestion was controlled and channeled properly.
4. People would die less often from out of control matatus careening off the road or into other vehicles.

But with those ideas came a huge hurdle: corruption. How will those fines make it to the government? You'd have to crack down on corruption. So how do you fight corruption?

If there is one thing that has held Kenya back from becoming a booming success, it is be corruption. Until recently, issues such as political oppression and tribal clashes were virtually unheard of in Kenya. Now, Kenya remains far from perfect, but its glaring weakness is good governance. They are currently on their third president in 45 years. The first president, Jomo Kenyatta spent 15 years as president, succeeded my Daniel Arap Moi, a man who stayed in power for 25 years, during which he worked his way onto the list of the top 10 or 20 richest people in the world. Let me tell you, he wasn’t making hat money through his recently torched wheat plantation. The current president has been in power for just about 6 years but is suspected to be handling money no better. That corruption percolated down through every organ of the government and is particularly apparent in the police force.

So I thought, where do you start? Let’s think about just the police. Maybe you can give the police higher salaries? Not an easy thing to do and not guaranteed to stop corruption. Anti-corruption teams don’t seem to do it either.

I realize now that it fighting corruption depends on those not involved in government, everyday people.

Talking to a guy I know through a local community organization in Mtopanga, the topic of fighting corruption came up. He was very pessimistic, believing that there is no way around corruption. It’s a system that is here to stay and that we might as well partake in it. He holds no hope for the system changing. This comes in part by the horrible example set by the national government. They steal and make deals under the table constantly (such as a recently planned arms sale to South Sudan that they fervently denied). It dawned on me that the people don’t believe that corruption can be fought; they have objectified and internalized its existence. After internalizing it, they externalization corruption as they participate in it. This process creates an ever-growing negative feedback loop.

Taking a true stand against corruption lies in giving the public hope that if they try to fight it they can win. One of the ideas in America that has been sewed into our moral fiber, alongside our protestant work ethic, is a strong distaste for being cheated or similarly for corruption. I truly believe that if a cop was going to give us a speeding ticket for $100, and offered to give us a warning in exchange for $50, we would go straight to the police station, pay our ticket, and turn in the officer. Perhaps we have a good system of checks and balances? Even so, when it comes down to it, corruption is held in such a bad light that people will fight it wholeheartedly. But, we Americans usually have the ability to pay the ticket. The difference of $50 is painful for any regular wage earner in America, but to a Kenyan that $50 is a month’s salary (if they’re lucky enough to have a job). They rarely have savings and would have to submit to corruption.

At the end of the day we BELIEVE corruption can be brought to justice. Kenya needs both to be given hope, and for their development process to continue so their GDP can rise and their country can prosper. Unfortunately, there is a tremendous Catch-22. They need their economy to improve to allow them to fight corruption, but corruption cripples their efforts to improve the economy.

Matatus

Matatus are Kenya’s main system of public transport – they are vans privately owned that pick people up anywhere on their route and drop them anywhere along the route. The drivers fight to get up and down the road as fast as possible so they can shuttle more passengers and collect more fares. They use sidewalks as part of the road, make a two-lane road a four-lane road, and frequently get in the opposite lane and play chicken with the car coming towards them. They are also sometimes called "ma3s" because "tatu" in Swahili means 3.

The matatu system is reminiscent of a gang hierarchy. There are bosses that control routes. Drivers and conductors (the men that collect the money on each matatu) must pay these men so as to operate on those routes. You could consider it a union, or a cooperative, but the matatu network operates independent of any formal authority. If you don’t belong to the “gang” your matatu will get cut off incessantly, people won't yield for you in traffic, you'll be on your own. To survive in the matatu world, you need to “belong”.

I constantly feel like I’m going to die riding around in a matatu, and I have to take 2 for about 15 minutes each just to get to work. They’re very convenient, but I’d rather walk 10 minutes to a bus stop and lower my chances of dying considerably.

Recently, a law was passed that matatus could not have more people in their vehicle than there are seats and that each passenger needs a seatbelt. That law was enforced for maybe 10 minutes. Seatbelts, nonexistent. The max number of people allowed in a matatu is usually followed, but frequently (during busy hours) as many people as can fit are jammed in the van. Heavy loads don’t make a matatu any nimbler, and every time I hear of a matatu that has flipped while making a sharp turn, I consider becoming religious.

The only other rules matatus have are that they must have their route painted on their vehicles (though you can't trust that the painted route is the one which will be taken that day) and the conductors must wear a maroon uniform (only 3/4 of the conductors wear them, but some do get arrested for not wearing their uniforms).

The seats are close together, uncomfortable, and getting out of a full matatu is tricky maneuver. I can’t imagine how an obese person would do it. Some matatus make trips as long as going from Mombasa to Nairobi (a 6 hour trip) and sometimes go further. I’ve been on a matatu for as long as an hour. That was bad enough. One of the interns, Ben, is 6’5. When I complain about being cramped, I think of him and stop complaining.

They play lots of loud reggae and Swahili music. It’s a pretty rocking ride, though the songs have quickly become repetitive. There is not much song turnover around here.

The driver and conductor of the matatus make their own rules. With a full load of passengers they’ll stop to top up on gas, grab some food for the road, etc. Sometimes they’ll take alternate routes and drive in circles for a little while until they have enough passengers in the matatu to continue onto the original destination. Professionalism is completely absent. People have to use them to travel and they exploit that fact.

The matatu network is the only way to really get around. I’ve got the system down, I’m a veteran. I still get stared at constantly since I’m the only white person on the thing. And, in the end, I really do enjoy riding in them! It’s fun and exhilarating, but frequently terrifying and frustrating.

Polygamy

One night, somehow coming to the topic of contrasting beliefs, my host sister Fatma challenged Western monogamy. In Kenya, it is perfectly acceptable to have multiple wives. For a Muslim man, he may marry up to 4 women. Tribally, a man can marry as many wives as he pleases. There do exist men with more wives than there are days in the month.

Fatma told me she is completely fine with polygamy, and even prefers a society where it is available. Her reasoning was that a man had needs. The way his mind works often means he requires the satisfaction of more than one woman (speaking of human male instincts, that’s a pretty good argument). I tried out some hypothetical situations on her:

Me: If a man already had one or more wives, would you marry him?
Fatma: Yes, if he is able to support all of us.

Eli: If she was the first wife and a man married another, would she be OK with that?
Fatma: Yes, as long as he treats us all equally.

From those two questions and the ensuing discussion I came across the unwritten rules of polygamy. The man must be able to support each wife and must treat equally. She was completely fine with the idea as long as he provided for her everything she needed.

Eli: So what about love? That is something you would need him to provide, right?
Fatma: Of course!

Eli: Would you be concerned about favoritism?
Fatma: A person cannot love any two people in the same way. A man should love each of his wives differently but equally. But, according to how a wife performs (interpret that however you will), he might spend more time with some than others.

Eli: Since a man can have multiple wives, shouldn’t a woman be able to have multiple husbands.
Fatma: No, no, no. You see, men and women are different.

That was it. We’re different. She went on to describe that men and women have different needs.

Fatma: You see, a woman cannot handle many men, but a man can handle many women. Besides, there are many of us, and few of you!

I disagreed with both. Biologically, the first part of her statement didn’t really add up. As for the male-female balance in the world…I don’t recall there being a huge excess of unmarried woman roaming around.

Culturally, or more specifically religiously, polygamy is completely acceptable. I asked a coworker, Zuhura, about polygamy. Zuhura is very well educated and, like Fatma, a Muslim.

Zuhura: (in a careful, thoughtful tone) Because of my religion, I do believe in polygamy. I cannot go against the word of Allah. But because of the situation today, I do not agree with it. (She later explained that “the situation today” involved STDs, spousal abuse, and the spread of liberalism and women’s rights)

My conversation with Fatma, and her firm belief in and even preference of polygamy, was eye-opening. It is not the first time that I’ve talked to a Kenyan about a controversial topic, and heard their unwavering support for something that I unconsciously disagree with. They love their culture, and they believe strongly in their religion, and they want you to listen to what they have to say so that you might even end up agreeing with them!

Mau Mau

On Wednesday night, the Director of Ujamaa Center, Patrick Ochieng, offered me a ride partway home. What I didn’t realize was that during the 5 minutes between that offer and getting in the car he decided to take me elsewhere. After passing the place he was supposed to drop me we went into Mombasa town, drove in circles for a while, all the time chuckling about how we were off to see the Mau Mau, then ended up at a film festival dedicated to the Mau Mau.

From my time in Kenya a while back, I had been versed in the Mau Mau revolution. The Mau Mau’s were a guerillas group that fought against the British colonial government in Kenya and strongly influenced Kenyan independence. I’ve even been to the cave they used as their main hideout/staging ground. Regardless, I was given no decision. To Patrick and the other Kenyans I was with, this film festival was crucial for me to attend. Kenyans are PROUD of their country, but also want to expose the hardships they endured to get independence.

My center is build around people who are activists and extreme human rights proponents. Their proactivity is invigorating (the only thing I don’t like is their extreme distaste for globalization, but that’s a conversation for another blog entry). The festival is based around movements. Wednesday was based on just the Mau Mau. Thursday night I saw a Rosa Parks documentary and an Oliver Stone interview with Fidel Castro – that man won my heart, he is an amazing leader and human being.

I learned some incredible stuff about the post-independence nation and the lack of heroes. The one hero after independence was their first president, Jomo Kenyatta. He was labeled the leader of the Mau Mau, but actually had no association with them and condemned their violent resistance. The British eventually quelled the Mau Mau rebellion, but realized that the fight to hold Kenya was futile and gave power to Kenyatta on the condition that the Mau Mau be unrecognized for their struggles. From Kenyan independence in 1963 until 2003 the Mau Mau fighters were given nothing for their struggles and service to Kenya. The land they fought for was given to others and students at school were told little about them. Many were taught that their movement was savage, casting a negative light on the immense hardship their struggle entailed. Luckily, they have finally brought that injustice to light and the veterans are getting some reparations.

The festival has filled me with a rebellious spirit. I can’t remember the last time I felt the proud about our country’s civil rights movement. Watching that Rosa Parks video and contrasting it against the Mau Mau video I saw the night before, I gained a lot of respect for the civility of society. The video had Martin Luther King Jr’s first speech as the leader of the African American anti-segregation movement. It crushed my apathy, it gave me new hope on how the world can be changed through united people. Movements take strength, they take sacrifice, and when you combine that with passion and belief, you can turn the world upside down.