Jaunt

29 December, 2008

I woke up at 6:30am but went through the morning ritual of opening up the clinic. Although it has become ritual it does require me to be fully awake. The reason for this is that on about the second or third day I was opening the fairly stiff bolt with my eyes half shut and it suddenly decided to give very quickly jamming the top of my thumb in the housing for the bolt. This woke me up considerably. Not only did I get a massive blood blister on my thumb but managed to take the top of it off as well. It started bleeding profusely. Just what anyone needs at 6:30am. Despite being in a clinic I went to my own trusty travellers kit and dressed the wound applying liberal amounts of Betadine to it and two plasters for good measure. As I lay back in bed trying to sleep as my thumb throbbed with pain. I could actually feel each beat of my heart through a shooting pain in my thumb.

The thing that separates us from the rest of the animal kingdom is opposable thumbs. Having now lost the use of of the aforementioned thumbs I was left feeling only half human. Of course, the contributing factor to that could have been the removal of all the comforts that I also felt had separated us from the animal kingdom such as clean running water, refrigeration, electric cooking, television and broadband internet to name just a few.

Ensuring I was wide awake not to injure myself at 6:30am had the unfortunate consequence of making it more difficult for me to go back to sleep once the clinic had been opened. That being said my genetic predisposition to rapid sleep meant that it took 5 minutes instead of 2 - 3.

At about 7:30am the children got restless enough to want to come and see if I was awake. I could hear them talking in the loudest of whispers that only a child is able to make. The "curtain" (i.e. flimsy transparent piece of cloth probably a sheet) was drawn over my window yet I could see the silhouette of two small boys (Manyara and George) as they stood on the window sill trying to find a way to see if I was away but at the same time subtly wake me if I wasn't. I was staring at the window when they worked out how to move the curtain away and two smiling black faces were grinning back at me. "Uncle, you awake. I coming." they both said as they jumped down from the window sill, and I heard the rapid staccato of small bare feet on concrete as they sprinted round the outside of the clinic, through the entrance and down the concrete corridor into my room. Once there they was always at a loss as what to do. Their carefully constructed plan of waking me up as usual hadn't included what to do once I was awake. They carefully edged around the room grabbing articles and exclaiming, "this socks", "this torch", "this cup", "this thermonuclear flux capacitor" (a crucial element should I need to return back to present day).

I shooed them out which always ended with them uttering, "I go now. Good-bye", as if this was somehow their decision. I got dressed and started working on the website again. Today was a big day. I was heading to Nairobi. This meant showers, non-squat toilets and above all, internet access. There was a noticeable spring in my smelly unwashed step.

At about 8:30am I went over to see Moses to make arrangements for the day. He was busy doing the end of year accounts for the orphanage but I arranged to meet with him at 9am to go through the work I had done. I went back to make a few finishing touches and about 5 minutes later was joined by Mercy. Mercy is a delightful little girl that is so happy. She is around 9 years old and is constantly dancing. Whenever there is music she slips into a happy trance as she grooves her body around to the beat. She has uncanny timing and a sense of rhythm. She looks at the files on my small table and starts going through them squealing with delight at each picture. She works out that I'm doing something with the files as I move them from a pile on one side to a pile on the other. She ruffles through them until she finds hers and says "Do me next". I take the file from her and she is so happy even though she is completely oblivious as to what it is I'm doing. Her file is as scant as the rest. A photo, an application form, an acceptance form, and an HIV negative certificate. Additionally there are some school records. Her results are always between 94% and 100%. She is an incredibly intelligent young girl. I notice that her mother is alive which is unusual for the other orphans. As I'm flicking back through I notice some hand written notes on the back of her application form. They are by her grandfather. In this he explains that Mercy's mother suffers from mental illness. She is always taking Mercy out of school and doesn't want her to go, Mercy is heavily beaten whenever she tries to sneak off to school. Her mother also refuses to wash her or let anyone else wash her, regularly burns her school uniform and school books and frequently disappears with Mercy to be found days or weeks later living rough in the bush. Her grandfather pleads to have her accepted in the home without her mothers knowledge so that she can return to her studies and have a chance at making something of herself. As I look at Mercy I can see scars on her arms, legs and face, scars that I had previously attributed to normal childhood injuries in Kenya but now had a much more disturbing association. Unaware of what I was reading, she looked at me with the biggest smile that broke my heart.

It was 9 o'clock so I took a couple of files over to Moses along with my computer. He initially said that he didn't need to see this and was quite busy. Fear of the unknown. I told him it would only take 10 mins so he agreed. We had to start at the very beginning. Moses didn't know what a website was, or even what the internet is. Hardly surprising though. We all take for granted that less than two decades ago, 99% of the Western world was in the same position. Can you remember when you first saw the world wide web? If you weren't in a university chances are it would have been in the last decade and not the preceding one. Now it's hard to imagine life without it. Explaining to someone who has really never even used a computer what the internet is was proving to be quite challenging. But with the aid of a few roughly drawn diagrams I got the message across. Then I had to explain to him how his particular website was going to work. There are two sides to the website. An administration side and the public facing side. The admin side is to allow someone like Moses to very simply enter or update information on the kids through the use of simple forms. Part of this information is also displayed on the public website dynamically. It took me showing him several times before the light finely went on. Then there was no holding him back. He wanted to know more about this internet, how he could tell the world about the work they were doing in Cura and how they could get support from the world to continue the work. Before long we had been chatting animatedly for an hour. I glanced at the time and told Moses we should finish up. I promised to spend more time discussing this with him the next day but I needed to get ready for my jaunt to Nairobi.

At around 12:20pm my car turned up. This was a beat up old car driven by a friendly man called Peter. He had once been to Mike and Evelyn's place several months ago and thought he knew the way. We contacted Mike briefly to make sure. It was about a 45 minute trip and all he was required to do was drop me off. Moses asked him how much and Peter replied 1,000 shillings (€10). All to quickly I agreed completely destroying the bargaining position we had as Moses tried to argue it was a bit expensive. They spoke for a couple of minutes but the situation was futile thanks to my outburst and we got into the car. Peter offers me the seat-belt end to plug my seat-belt into. I think he was just doing this to impress rather than out of concern for my safety. While one end of the seat-belt was secured firmly in the centre of the vehicle, the other end was of a length that, in the event of an accident it would have fully restrained me about half way down the bonnet once I had smashed through the windscreen. Moses came along until we got to the tarmac road as he needed to get the accounts typed up. At the tarmac road an old gentlemen got in and continued along with us until Kikuyu. He was a poultry farmer and was off to buy some more chickens. I was glad we picked him up on the way there rather than the way back! I have noticed that in Kenya it is only the first person who pays the fare of the taxi. It is completely acceptable to pick up other people on the way and deposit them at various places so long as it's not out of the way. The old car lurches down the road onto the highway as we head to Nairobi. At one point Peter takes out a screwdriver and jams it into the innards of the car whilst we are driving. Even with my basic automotive knowledge I can see no reason for this activity.

We arrive at Mike Eldon's place and the guard lets us through the huge iron doors. I pay the driver and he's off back to Cura or Wangige. I never worked out where he came from.

Mike and Evelyn have waited until my arrival until they have lunch. We head through their house out to the sprawling backyard, up to the little pool house by the swimming pool. The area they live in is a particularly nice one and all the houses around are similar. Despite their idyllic comforts, all of them are encased in high electric fences. There are guards at every entrance point, and armed patrol vehicles circle the neighbourhood. Throughout the property are strategically placed panic buttons that once pressed divert all the patrol vehicles to that property. It's a harsh reminder that all is not always well here and the troubles of early in the year are still uncomfortably at the forefront of peoples minds.

We have a simple lunch that is peppered with conversation about what I've been doing in Cura and my observations. Mike and Evelyn ask me to stay with them tonight rather than a hotel. I'm extremely grateful for their hospitality although with no internet connection at their home I feel a pang of withdrawal from my life blood.

Mike and I then leave to do a few errands at the local shopping centre. As we are heading to his country club tonight, decent attire will be required by me. He offers to lend me a jacket and tie but I will need a shirt and pants. I'd also like to get some photos developed for the kids and if time permits a haircut.

The first thing we do is head to the photo shop. I realise that this is going to be quite expensive. The photos are 30 shillings each and I want around 680 developed. This will be over €200 enough to support a child for about 6 months. I cut back on some of the copies and Mike negotiates a bit of discount but I'm still left paying around 14,000 shillings (€140) for the photos. There is a Woolworths in the shopping centre and given the disposable intention of the outfit is the perfect place to purchase what I need. A get a crisp white shirt and black slacks for around 5,000 shillings (€50). We then head up to the hairdresser. Mike used to have offices in this building so everyone knows him. The owner of the hairdresser comes out and offers to cut my hair herself. As in Japan, in hairdressers they wash your hair after they cut it. This makes a lot more sense then what happens in other countries. Having not had a shower for a week I'm embarrassed about the state of my hair. Mike explains what I'm doing in Kenya and the woman proudly tells us that four of the girls in the salon have all been rescued by her from orphanages, trained up as hairdressers or beauticians and given a huge start in life. The haircut and subsequent neck massage cost 1,000 shillings (€10).

We head back to Mike's place and get ready to go out. I have my first shower for the week and despite the low water pressure is one of the best in my life. Evelyn is taken back when she sees me groomed and properly dressed. Having not had the use of a mirror for over a week, with my dirty unkempt hair, and my crushed and filthy clothes, I must have looked a sight when I first turned up.

Mike, Evelyn, her mother (Shosha) and I climb into his car and we head off to the Mathago Club. This is an old colonial style club. Mobile phones are banned, jackets and ties mandatory in the dining room and a look and feel of a bygone era emanating throughout the entire establishment. We head to a private dining room which consists of an ante-room with comfortable chairs, coffee tables and a personal bar staffed by two impeccably dressed Kenyan men; and a large dining room with a long table, candelabras, silver service cutlery and a huge antique mirror on one of the walls.

Mike and I have the standard anti-malarial medicine (Gin & Tonic) in the ante-room as several other people join the gathering. Tonight is the surprise birthday party for Milicent, Evelyn's sister. Months of preparation have gone into trying to keep this a surprise. The whole thing has been arranged by Evelyn and Milicent's daughter, Tracy. Tracy is a fashion buyer living in New York who is currently studying in Monte Carlo with a view to changing industries and ultimately returning to Kenya. Tracy has arranged with Evelyn to be able to signal her when they arrive at the the club. The signal arrives and the lights are doused as we all fall into silence. For some unknown reason the two bar staff duck down behind the bar. Washoka (Evelyn's daughter) is talking to her grandmother (Shosha) and keeps laughing. She is shushed by Evelyn but the laughter continues. Tracy and Milicent seem to have got lost since arriving at the club and we all sit there in near silent darkness for a good ten minutes. The silence is sporadically punctured by bursts of laughter from Washoka. We later learn that because Shosha can't be trusted to keep a secret she has been kept in the dark about the whole affair. She is completely oblivious as to why we are there, why we are sitting in the dark and why we aren't allowed to talk. When the barmen ducked behind the bar, she panicked and thought something bad was happening. Washoka thought this was hilarious as she tried to explain to her that it was a surprise party for her daughter.

After sending one of the waiters out to retrieve the misplaced guest of honour, she finally arrived to a big burst of noise as we shouted surprise simultaneously as the lights came on. Milicent did her part of acting surprised but later revealed that she was suspicious when nobody called her to wish her happy birthday that day. (A trap for young players in organising surprise events!).

We had a lovely meal accompanied by some very emotional speeches from everyone. Gifts were given and I was completely surprised to have received two gifts from Mike and Evelyn. A t-shirt with Swahili phrases on it and a beautiful notepad decorated with African art. The evening went on until after midnight. Animated conversations were held including a particularly interesting one about when was the right time for parents to go into homes. With three generations at the table and the middle generation advancing towards that point it was interesting to see people views changing.

After a pleasant evening we came back to Mike and Evelyn's place and I was fast asleep in a normal comfortable bed around 1am.

This was a good day.