Plastering

My wrist is finally good to go for plastering so I got out of what Mikey referred to as the prison cell to help with the plastering of the cook's bedroom.  It's a super messy job and it's super fun!  Especially when you cram 6 guys in a tiny room.  

Injuries happen every now and then, usually minor things,

cuts and scrapes.  Mikey and I have our first aid kit

and a little knowledge so we play nurse...

When a worker cuts or scrapes himself, they come

right to us; "Dr. Mike!, Dr. JP!"  They're not used to clean

and dress cuts.. when we are not around they just let it be

and even though they were skeptical the first time

we got the first aid kit out, I think they enjoy the care

and now ask us to fix the smallest cuts!

Today, Denis got a hammer on the head...

On our way back, we hung out with Francis,

one of our favorite street kid.  It can get hectic when

12 of them see us biking by the Makutano main intersection.

When they all run after us, we don't have enough food for everyone

and it gets a little tense.  It's nice when we get to watch one

or two enjoy a quiet meal without having to fight...

he still looked over his shoulder as he ate though,

afraid an older kid might come to steal his prize.

Chippin' away part 2.

Still chippin'...  On the second day of chiseling the slab I pulled a muscle in my right forearm.  To keep going I had to learn to use the hammer and chisel with opposite hands.  Having my right hand holding the chisel was a very good to way to give it some rest...  the down side was that, since my left hand doesn't have quite as much control and precision, I ended up beating on my already injured hand with a hammer.  I did that for two more days while Mikey moved to plastering.  I would have loved to join him but I had to let my wrist heal a bit.  My wrist is better but my thumb is killing me!  I did get my "mark of Kenya" as our co-workers call it..  When I used my right hand to hammer I'd only hit myself about 10 times a day.  For the first few hours of using my left hand, I'd hit myself about every 5 to 10 minutes...  After a while I felt as if I would collapse each time I'd hit my thumb.  I eventually got better.

The blistered hand is the one that holds the hammer..

The bruised hand is the one that gets hit with the hammer..

cactus tree essay

a few shots of the amazing cactus trees in the desert on July 18th.....

Harambe = Togetherness

Fundraising is an event that happens all over the world; it takes different forms and is used for various reasons; and interestingly it is an event and thing that we, as Alpine Initiatives, have spent a lot of time recently thinking about. So it was very fitting for us to be involved in a couple in Meru, where they are given the Swahili term Harambe. 

The first Harambe we attended was a unique experience as Lisa, my Mom, and I were with Karambu, so immediately we were marked as special guests and asked to sit up front. Of course it would have been rude to refuse so up we went and not only were we up front, but pretty much on stage looking out at the rest of the audience. I like how Lisa put it when she said " Well I guess this is one way to help get over the dislike of being stared at." Super amusing because as Mzungus (english speaker/white) we are always the focus of the peoples gaze and here we were, front and center on display.

Today JP and I attended another Harambe in the Chugu village, the guest of honor, he who the money is raised for, needed a surgery for pancreatic cancer. Chugu came alive this afternoon as the forest intermixed with small farms was brushed by the brilliant bronze hues of the afternoon sun. We were honored as special guests and upon arrival, similar to most fuctions, served some mixture of rice, corn and beans along with a cup of chai. This was merely a start to the festivities as everyone was getting primed and ready. After thinking about it I realized that I have been to many different fundraisers around the world and realize that they all have one thing in common, there is either an auction or a raffle or both. The difference is the prizes that are presented for these events, and although very different, similar in a sense that the items are representative of the community. For example our raffle included many items like skis, goggles, outerwear, all things relating to the ski world because that is what we are a part of. 

The touching part of this auction is that everyone in the community brought whatever they could afford to bring. Since many have little the items being auctioned included fruits and vegetables from peoples farms, chickens, bags of beans, and lots and lots of sugar cane. JP even made a comment to our friend Purity about the amount of sugar cane and she replied that's because of the drought and the peoples condition, therefore, this was all they could afford to donate. It is very interesting to witness, how among a very poor community, everything that was brought was then bought for some price during the auction, and I think they raised a fair amount of money for the guest of honor.

JP and I partook and bought a few things. We got a large bag of Avocado and Papaya for 20 Kenyan Shillings, about $0.25, can you believe it? JP also got a chicken, which we named Little Nugget, to join the chicken, named Muffin (short for Egg McMuffin) I had bought at the first Harambe, who now both live at KACH. 

The Harambe was a great experience as we experienced a part of the culture and were able to be part of the community we have grown to love so much. We cherish the activities and events like this as our relationships with the locals strengthen and we are continually invited into their lives.

Bikes and bikes.

This year, we welcomed three new members to our AI family in Meru.  The Amani Crusader, Kukukachoo The Locomo Bike, and Miriam. These are the bikes we decided to buy and use as our mode of transportation to and from work. The buying of the bikes turned out to be an adventure in itself only highlighting the adventures that lay ahead. We by passed the idea of getting mountain bikes and instead bought a cheaper version of the cruiser style bike, like those popular in Asian countries. There is only one gear and as we have learned these bikes aren't as solid as bikes like we know. The excitement of buying the bikes led to immediate riding of them, as anyone who purchases a new bike does, and it was a mere matter of minutes before pieces started falling off. We later learned that after buying the bike, even though we watched the store keeper put the bikes together, that one is supposed to take it to a bike mechanic to really get it in working order. The store where we bought the bikes was in the heart of Meru Town, and even though its our second year here it was our first time to this spot. It was exciting being immersed in the busy bustle of the city center and a different look at the culture of the town we have become so comfortable in. While waiting for our bikes to be assembled we were approached by a Chokora, a street kid usually identified by the glue bottle hanging out of their mouth; a substance that curbs hunger and gets them stoned. We refused the usual request of money, fearing he would use it to buy more glue,  instead took him to the market down the street to buy him some bread and yogurt. This would not be our last bike influenced encounter with Chokora's.

The road from our house to the job site of KACH is about 6 miles, 2 of which are on rocky dirt roads. The ride to work is quite easy as most of it is down hill and doesn't require much pedaling, the difficulty lays in the journey home. After putting ourselve to the grindstone all day we have the 6 mile ride home, mostly up hill in the heat of the day on bikes with one gear. Funny that we bought these ones because they were much cooler than the mountain bikes. But trust me they are pretty cool! Oh Yeah, we are also carrying our oversized backpacks, weighing at about 30 lbs. each. The first couple of journeys, due to the fact  we never had a mechanic look at them, resulted in broken bikes, but we have seemed to figure them out and they are proving to be a great method of transportation. 

So we ride our bikes home at the end of the day and struggle to get our oversized cruisers up the hills.  At last we reach a flat section that ends in a down hill to our house, fewww! easy sailing from here, or at least we thought. We once again meet up with the Chokoras. The main intersection known as Makutano is a four way stop, and popular area for the chokoras to hang out. The minute we are spotted in Makutano the chase is on! A group of 4 or 5 were after us. At first they were running right beside, glue bottles in position, yelling hello. It seems to be a fun race, but that is quickly ended when they latch on to the back of the bike and refuse to let go, seeming as if they would hang on forever.  One even attempted to jump on to my rack, scaring the heck out of me as i weaved through the traffic of people and cars with 2 ten year olds super-glued to the back. The decision to stop was made by JP and I followed suit  as i didn't feel it was right to leave him behind. We had similar experiences as the kids begged us for money, of which, we had none. Unfortunately reasoning was out of the question with some of them as their glazed over, blood shot eyes merely represented how stoned they really were. Truly a heart breaking moment. Without money or food or the ability to reason the only option was to hop back on my bike, and pedal like hell. We have not encountered the Chokoras for a bit, but are armed with food as we know they are very hungry. We hope to create some type of relationship with some of them and learn how they ended up on the street and learn more about their sub-culture, with hopes of helping them. This may also produce pictures and stories. You can learn more about the Chokoras from the Documentary " Left Behind" by Christof Putzel found on our video page or at www.leftbehindfilm.com

Our experiences with riding the bikes has opened different windows to the local culture, a benefit we did not expect. Although difficult at times, it has been an enjoyable addition to our life here especially when the bikes inspire smiles and waves and great looks of curiosity as the Mzungus (english speaking/white people) ride by. Not only do they provide transportation in a environment friendly way, help keep us in shape (haha who woulda thought), and create adventures they will also be a nice item to leave to the Kithoka Amani Community Home!

Patrick, 14.

Quick stop at the local bike shop!

London

 

so here I am back in  a world  that feels closer to where I come from. It is hard to comprehend and compute all that has happened in the last month. Yesterday I was eating mangos on a dusty dirt road and now I am surrounded by endless lawn, flowers, art, smooth music by Anya Marina and a well spoken Englishman. It brings on a series of questions....Like what do I really really want? what is important? what do I want for the world? I feel lucky to even be contemplating.

We are all on the same planet and some things feel so similar everywhere and others feel completely foreign. I definitely see and feel that there is a path and much hard work ahead to create love and beauty everywhere...yet in someways it already exists it is just connecting to it and bringing it out of everything we see.

 I often had the sense in Meru it is so much more about connecting to people and creating community vs. building or designing.  More about empowering people and giving a nudge of confidence that they are brilliant, creative and already working in a good direction and doing things right. I guess we all want that confirmation and approval in a way... it gives us strength to keep going. 

 

Chippin' away.

The past 4 days JP, a couple of our co-workers and I have been armed with hammers and chisels. Our task, to chip the floors of the kitchen. This entails hammering out little holes all over the concrete slab to give a texture to the surface so the mortar that will be laid on top has something to bond to.  The process of continually hammering is tiring on the arms, annoying to the ears, aches the back and painful to the thumbs. In the beginning the moment focus is lost one usually misses the chisel and strikes their thumb, which after many really hurts and starts to leave a mark. Our co-workers laugh and say this is the mark of Kenya, as they all have one as well. As the days passed we got better and better and it was easy to focus on the task while giving time to think. 

As I was hammering away, in between shots to my thumbs, I realized how much time, effort, and sweat I had put into that exact spot. Chiseling away had a strong similarity to the smashing of rocks, which lay beneath the slab we were now indenting.  Instead of being armed with a large mallet to perform the task of turning large stones into gravel, we now were armed with small hammers and chisels and were in a sense doing the same thing. Below that exists layers of dirt and stone that were gathered from all over the property and thrown within the foundation. The foundation itself was a huge task as we dug the trenches with shovels, pick axes, and crow bars. Then, we were the machine that mixed the concrete after collecting wheel barrow after wheelbarrow of sand, gravel, and cement bags. Each step was done for the same purpose of adding another level or layer to the building being transformed into the kitchen responsible for feeding the children of KACH.

This kitchen at the Kithoka Amani Community Home is not only the place where I have done the hardest work of my life, but it is a spot has come to represent so much to me. It represents all of the Kenyans that we have bonded with through hard work and with who our relationships grow each and everyday. We have truly morphed from strangers to co-workers, from co-workers to friends, and from friends to brothers. It represents the kids who will soon be able to call a place home, the ones  who on a materialistic level have next to nothing, yet are so inspiring as they so easily give away their beautiful smiles, giving a true feeling to as what this place is about. It represents the community that we have become a part of,  one that has no boundaries and extends across different cultures, genders, and generations. As our bonds tighten our thirst for collaboration grows and we are able to watch this idea mature into something great!

Seat (with cushion, for extra comfort), chisel, hammer,

concrete slab... pretty straight forward.

getting started; 798 suaqre feet to go...

Tribute to the garden

One of my best memories form last October was pulling rocks out of the ground to get the garden started.  It was a real therapeutic experience for me.  My life style is so different at home; stressing about work, dead lines, contracts, fixing the house and everything in it, getting mad when my computer crashes or when the internet doesn't work...  In the garden, I was 100% happy.  Every time I pulled a rock out of the ground, I would think; "One less rock in the garden!".  So simple, so tangible, so real...  ...so awesome!  That's when I realized I didn't work with my hands enough and acknowledged that I have a need to build and grow things.  I think that a lot of us are losing touch with that aspect of being human, including me.  Many of the things we do these days happen on a desk or on a screen and we don't get to experience the satisfaction of watching something we created come to life.

Coming back to see the state of the garden 8 months later was truly satisfying.  It looks beautiful.  At least once a day, I take time to walk through, look, touch and smell...  It's amazing to witness how it changes from one day to the next.  Not to mention it will provide food for the kids.  If you've never done it, try growing something!

Farm Visit #4 Morioki's Farm