Tuesday, November 2, 2010

10/20/10 Goodbye: Kwaheri

Leaving just after dawn for Nairobi, the tears were doing a decent job holding themselves back. I ducked into the dining hall for my final goodbyes, and no one was willing to buy my story about allergies. Each girl I met at Daraja has touched me deeply, and the letters pressed into my hands in stuffed into my pockets were affirmation that my short time here had left an impact. The evening before, the girls had made good on their promise to teach me how to dance, and the lesson took. A marvelous night, sweaty and filled with hugs and peals of laughter.





I had been asked before I left California whether I expected this experience to completely change my life. The phrase makes me think of an abrupt turn in one's life course, very nearly opposite where a traveler had been previously headed. In that way, teaching Outside The Lens' work at Daraja Academy did not; what it did was galvanize. My first day with the students, I saw clearly how the work I had done previously, the courses of study I have undertaken, and the policy I want to study in graduate school had all positioned me to be right here, right now. Seeing the transformative power of girls' education, grounded in respect for the many cultures contained in Daraja's microcosm, and viewing the world through their lens is exactly what I get to do, and now having seen it work on the ground, all I want is more.

10/18/10 Daraja: Bridge

As my last working day at Daraja comes to an end, it's time to begin focusing on the bridges to my home community that I will be building upon return. Through Outside The Lens' Youth Advisory committee, students at Daraja Academy will be matched with high school girls in San Diego who have also been working on Here I Am and Pieces Of Me projects. Each of Daraja's 52 students wrote letters to their new friends, filled with their all-time faves (of utmost importance to all 15 year olds, regardless of national origin), their dreams, and their ideas. It is my dream to exhibit the work of both sets of girls side by side, first in California and then Kenya. Too big? I think we can do it.
Betty is on her way to med school, and dreams of attending the University of San Diego
As the first missive in a series of exchanges, the girls were excited to learn more about their friends in San Diego, and urged them to write back quickly. Invitations were extended to visit Kenya, and to learn more about girls their age in other parts of the world. As Deborah Santana's beautiful video illustrated, Daraja means bridge. And I am exceedingly proud to serve as Daraja.

10/15/10 Transcendance: Kuvuku

Friday: Back to Daraja safe and sound, with enough time to hustle BIG TIME on completing each of my Outside The Lens projects. Form 1 hadn't been given the chance to write and shoot about their favorite piece of themselves. From a broader age range than Form 2, these girls have some really interesting experience under their belts and shared with me more beautiful words and images.



The Best Part Of Me Is My Heart
by Jamaica

My heart! My heart! Is the precious part of me.
It is more precious than gold and also than all things in the world.
It allows me to talk, laugh, and communicate with others and make friends.

This part is important to me because it allows me to have life.
It allows blood to circulate all over my body.
It is like a machine of transportation in my body,
it won't stop beating and doing its part until my last days in this universe.

I would say that if it was not my heart I could have not been in this world.
I thank the Lord for giving me this precious part.
This part also detects the changes in me.
The time that I was in danger it started pounding miserably.

My heart is very unique and marvelous,
because it makes me to my own decisions and follow my own principles
and be a person I want to be in the future.
My heart also makes me to have a positive attitiude toward my lfe.
So I pray to God to protect my heart, my life and function well forever!

10/17/10 Playtime: Kucheza

After returning safely to Daraja with Cipro and rehydration salts, I was looking forward to settling back into routine with students and making up for lost time on our projects. I learned quickly that time continues to march on for the rest of the planet when one is ensconced in the Pony Club Room, and the girls were now deep in the final stretch toward midterms. Beginning on Sunday, they had three days of testing leading up to the nation-wide Fall holiday and they take this seriously. I made sure to get and give plenty of reassuring and encouraging hugs (these ladies are the best huggers), and bivouacked out to the bush for some quality recovery time with good friends and San Diego transplants Bennett and Maria.
I had no idea these guys were friends outside of cartoons.
On the way to Soit Nyiro.
 Bennett and Maria live on the Soit Nyiro Preserve, a wedge of land sticking out into the much larger surrounding Mpala Preserve. Observing baboon feeding ecology, exploring the local autism world, and learning about the intricacies of Kenyan life fill their days, and they generously offered me a place to regroup while the Daraja students tackled midterms.

About 3 hours drive past Daraja, Bennett and Maria legitimately live in the bush. Pictured behind them: the bush.

Trusty Steed. Unfortunately for Maria's baboon work, the Land Rover is painted Maasai Red. Thanks to generations of mutual distaste, baboons have developed a strong aversion to the stunning scarlet hue local Maasai prefer.

Excellent porch for resting, recovering, and watching Africa walk, fly, and swim past.

As conservationists, you spend a lot of time walking around open land. Which leads to finding cool skulls, which leads to a certain macabre-chic porch decor.


I spent a much-appreciated couple of days lounging, napping, eating, and going for the occasional hike. Cold Tuskers were enjoyed, stories swapped, and my gracious hosts pointed out the elephants we could hear trumpeting nearby after dusk fell. Perfection, and asante sana to my wonderful friends.

Friday, October 15, 2010

10/15/10 Recovery: Ahueni

Hmm. So perhaps my minor stomach bug was worse than I let on. After collapsing in front of the teller at Barclays as I waited to have my US dollars changed to Kenyan shillings, Daraja’s fearless volunteer coordinator Andy escorted me to the Nanyuki Cottage Hospital. Several bags of IV fluid and a couple nights later, I find myself recovered enough to return to Daraja with Cipro and rehydration salts in hand. E. coli, the hottest new way to lose those pesky extra pounds.

I’ve been well-cared for at the Cottage hospital, and put up in what has to be their presidential suite; the plaque on the front of my door proudly reads “Mt. Kenya Pony Club Room,” with a well-stocked if entirely out of date bookshelf, private bathroom, three beds, three closets, and two sinks. My windows look out in three directions to view the aforementioned Mt. Kenya and the flowering tops of local tropical trees. Not a bad place to be, especially with traveler’s medical insurance.

In addition to hydrating, resting, and inadvertently making inroads to central Kenya’s autism community (right?), I’ve been devouring reading material. Wangari Maathai, Kenya’s first Nobel Prize winner and founder of the Green Belt Movement, has some compelling thoughts on the images used to depict Africa and their collective effect on aid-recipient culture on the continent. Nerd out with me, if you’d like:

The Image of Africa

Although in recent years the state of development in Africa has risen on the global agenda, the voices of Africans speaking to those challenges are muted in comparison with those of the industrialized world speaking about the needs of Africa.Unfortunately, this situation only reinforces the perception that African solutions for African problems don’t exist, and that Africans are not equally equipped to propose a vision for Africa’s development or provide concrete actions to bring it about.
Too often, Africa is still presented as a helpless victim of her own making. A representative image I saw a long time ago and that has stayed with me is that of an emaciated young girl with a distended belly on the cover of a UNICEF magazine. All of us have seen such horrific pictures. They prick our consciences, and may move many of us, including those with money or power, to try to help.
A set of images has dominated the world’s view of Africa for centuries, some intended to excuse injustice against the peoples of the continent, others to elicit compassion and wonder. The continent south of the Sahara has been seen as a land of unparalleled riches, startling beauty, and extraordinary wildlife; as a place of strange and at times primitive tribal customs, civil disorder, and armed militias; of child labor and child soldiers, mud huts, open sewers, and shantytowns; of corruption, dictatorship, and genocide. These and other perceptions have framed the world’s response to Africa.
As someone who raises funds to support work in Africa, I understand the importance of images, and recognize that pictures of Africans in dire circumstances can, ultimately, lead to positive actions from those who are moved to want to help. However, on balance, I find these representations—and the associations they bring with them—demonstrably negative, perhaps even shameful, since they risk stereotyping all countries south of the Sahara as places of famine, death, and hopelessness. Because the children or adults pictured are rarely named, the people remain abstract, symbolic, and no longer individuals. That starving toddler or weeping mother or child soldier is “Africa.” This projection only makes the task more difficult for those of us on the ground trying to help Africans to help themselves.
In addition Africans themselves see these images of suffering and dysfunction on television, in newspapers, on websites, and in fund-raising appeals, and begin to internalize them. A dangerous and unfortunate psychological process ensues that subtly and perhaps unconsciously affirms to Africans their inability to be agents of their own destiny. Eventually, it may destroy the sense of confidence they should and must have to make progress.
Moreover, these descriptions fail to capture another reality which is that every day, tens of millions of African women and men go about their business, live their lives responsibly and industriously, and look after their immediate and extended families, even if they lack certain material possessions, higher education, or access to the range of opportunities and goods available to the wealthy in other countries, or even their own. These are the real African heroes, and it is these images the world should see more of.
I don’t believe that charities or celebrities are buying into the stereotypical images of African helplessness and suffering in an attempt to undermine Africans; the photos do, after all, represent a reality. Too many children are hungry in Africa or being forced to commit atrocities as child soldiers; or they are misusing drugs or sniffing glue on the streets of the continent’s cities or are abused and raped and unable to go to school. And certainly, African governments have not paid enough attention to the continent’s myriad problems, in part because in Africa they aren’t viewed with the same gravity as elsewhere, or because communities have become used to them (as may be the case with malaria and other preventable diseases), or because Africans are surrounded by so many challenges that the particular condition being highlighted doesn’t seem as problematic to them as it does to those in the developed world. To a degree, these governments may need to be shamed into taking on these problems.
The challenge, therefore, is not only for the international community to use more positive depictions of Africa, but for Africans themselves to stop providing so many images of dysfunction in the first place. No one in Africa can be happy that a child with a belly distended from malnutrition comes to represent a particular country or the continent at large. Clearly, it’s incumbent upon Africans to project themselves better and more affirmatively, without pretending that underdevelopment isn’t real. They must recognize that these challenges exist, and then decide that they will work toward resolving them.
The governments must ask themselves what policies they can adopt and what commitments they can make, notwithstanding the availability of aid, so that the images of African children express a new reality: one not of malnutrition, but of health; not child soldiers or street children addicted to drugs, but hardworking students and intact families. This should not be because the hungry have been hidden away, or the street children thrown in jail, but because Africa has more achievements to display than famines to be covered up.
At the same time, development agencies need to present a vision of the Africa they wish to see rather than using images that undercut the very mission they are trying to accomplish. It should be possible for potential donors to respond to images of a functioning Africa that deserves support and not only give in response to the images that inspire pity and condescension.
(Source: Wangari Maathai, The Challenge For Africa: A New Vision)

Effectively refocusing my efforts, I can’t wait to get back to campus; to be surrounded by those same hardworking students Maathai invokes, and to get cameras back in their hands as they share their visions of themselves and their continent’s future.

In the meantime, here are a few great shots I haven't had a chance to upload before- shot from around campus during the past week.





10/12/10 Self-aware: Kufahamu

Still recovering from a mild stomach bug, I concentrated Tuesday’s efforts on sleeping and executing “Pieces of Me,” the second major Outside The Lens project that WISH classes were to undertake. Combining self-portraiture with a simpler poetry assignment, Form 2 girls spent the afternoon brainstorming about their favorite piece of themselves and sketching out the way they wanted to portray it. After dinner, I met with the girls again to write poems about their favorite pieces- always a powerful experience when working with teenaged girls, no matter what continent.



“Pieces of Me” by Hadijah

The very best piece of me is my forehead and eyes.
My long brown forehead with jet-black hair lying alongside of it allows me to hit the ball amazingly when playing football.
My round brown eyes allow me to see and visualize different things around me.
The milky-whites of my eyes make me unique from anybody else, and look attractive with short black eyebrows above them.
Without my forehead and eyes, no one would recognize me as Hadijah.
Without these beautiful eyes, how would I be able to see this wonderful nature filled with amazing things?
My forehead; without it I wouldn’t be able to hit the ball as I usually do.
These two parts totally differentiate me from other people- Oh how I love them so much.

A few outside stats...


Thanks to a mild stomach bug, I’ve been spending much of my free time laying low in my rondavel and reading. From Greg Mortenson’s Stones Into Schools:

Investing in Girls Education Yields Huge Returns

Income Growth
Girl’ education leads to increased income for the girls themselves and for nations as a whole. Increasingly the share of women with a secondary education by 1 percent boosts annual per-capita income growth by 0.3 percent. That’s significant, since per-capita income gains in developing countries seldom exceed 3 percent a year. (Source: The World Bank)

Educating girls also boosts farming productivity. Educated farmers are more efficient and their farms are more productive, which leads to increased crop yields and declines in malnutrition. (Source: The Council on Foreign Relations’ What Works in Girls’ Education: Evidence and Policies from the Developing World)

Maternal and Children’s Health
Educated women have smaller, healthier, and better-educated families.
The better educated the women in a society, the lower the fertility rate. A 2000 study in Brazing found that literate women had an average of 2.5 children while illiterate women had an average of 6 children. (Source: UNESCO)

The better educated the women, the lower the infant mortality rate. “The mother’s education is often the single most important influence on children’s survival… Educated mothers learn how to keep their children healthy and how to use health services, improve nutrition and sanitation, and take advantage of their own increased earning capability. Girls who stay in school also marry later when they are better able to bear and care for children.” (Source: The Council on Foreign Relations’ What Works in Girls’ Education: Evidence and Policies from the Developing World)

By increasing health-care knowledge and reducing the number of pregnancies, female education significantly reduces the risk of maternal mortality. (Source: The World Bank)

Women’s Empowerment
Educated girls and women are more likely to stand up for themselves and resist violence. “In poor areas where women are isolated within their communities, have little education and cannot earn much, girls are often regarded as an economic burden and women and girls sometimes suffer deliberate neglect or outright harm.” (Source: The Council on Foreign Relations’ What Works in Girls’ Education: Evidence and Policies from the Developing World)

Educated women channel more of their resources to the health and education of their children than men do. (Source: The Council on Foreign Relations’ What Works in Girls’ Education: Evidence and Policies from the Developing World)

Educated women are more likely to participate in political discussion, meetings, and decision making. (Source: The Council on Foreign Relations’ What Works in Girls’ Education: Evidence and Policies from the Developing World)

Studies show that education promotes more representative, effective government. As women are educated and approach parity with men, research shows that “governments and other institutions function better and with less corruption.” (Source: The Council on Foreign Relations’ What Works in Girls’ Education: Evidence and Policies from the Developing World)

Girls who become literate tend to teach their mothers how to read and write, much more than do males. (Source: Greg Mortenson)

When vegetables or meat wrapped in newspapers are brought home from the bazaar, women often ask their literate daughters to read the news to them and can understand more about the dynamic world around them. (Source: Greg Mortenson)

10/11/10 Choice:Uchaguzi

Still Feeling a bit under the weather, I nonetheless joined a few volunteers on Monday morning for a guided hike through baboon country and a visit to a Maasai village. On the sunrise drive out to the preserve, I caught sight of my first giraffe, ibex, and elephant since arriving. Amazing! Baboons were pretty fun to visit with; our guides are part of a conservations research team, and because the baboons are accustomed to their presence they tolerated ours as well. Sweet.

There are baboons behind me, promise.





Had a great conversation this evening with three students from Dol Dol, the village nearest the baboon sanctuary. The first girls in their family to attend secondary school, they shared their career aspirations with me and what it's like to be a leader in education for their tribe. 

"Many Maasai don't like girls education; they think it makes them more likely to disappear from their family. What they don't know is that we are going to make so much money that we will lift our families too! In some years time, our family will be enriched and other families will not. They will see the value then." These girls are proud to be leaders, and to inspire their younger sisters to attend secondary school as well. They explained that if they weren't at Daraja right now, they would have been married to someone of their family's choosing. "When girls go to college, they end up picking their own husband!" To avoid jumping to conclusions, I verified whether that was a good thing or not-- which  received a resounding YES! from the girls. Point taken.


Again and again through our conversation, they repeated "when you educate a girl, you educate the world." Wow, ladies. Hats off to you.