Thoughts in Kiswahili

Unasemaje watu wa dunia, tukilea juuya shida yetu, halafu tutakua tukisikia watoto wanapocheka?
Penda, cheka, cheza
halufa hatakuna matata 




"What do you say people of the world, if we cry about our problems, then how will we hear when children laugh?"
Love, laugh, play
Then there will be no problems"




Passage of the day, Surah 8, ayat 53.

"Because God will never change the Grace which he has bestowed on a people until they change what is in their own souls, and verily is He who hears and knows all things"


Kwasababu Mungu hatawezakubaadelika kurahem amabayo katika watu lakini wanawezakubaadelika katika tegemeo, kwasababu Mungu anasikia na anajua kila kitu.




Ninafikiri kupenda Mungu ni kupenda watu wa dunia. Kupenda watu wa dunia hufai kuua mama na watoto wa dunia kwasababu utakua mpenzi ya Shaitan.


"I think to love God is to love the people of the world. To love the people of the world, you 


must not murder the mothers and children of the world because you will become the lover of 


Satan"

"Tell me about Kenya"

People like to ask me from America after a long time
"How is everything?"
This is a perfectly legitimate question considering that at worse, I am person number 400 on their fb contact, and at best, they are living fulfilling lives and weren't sure what to specifically ask me.
Though it's really hard, because I'm just tempted to say the same thing I would to any passing child who screams
"MZUNGO! HOW ARE YOU?"

"Nzuri sana, na wewe?" (Find, and you?)
And their response is always a mix of confused "What should I ask next?", or "Give me money!"

How about you?

This, so to say, is not a smack in the face for people who care to ask, it's just a question that's difficult to answer in two sentences, which I think is a fair attention span for someone online. And I honestly appreciate it when you ask, I'm just never sure how to respond without boring you all. So I guess if you're reading this and don't have time, read 1, 2, and 3.


1. Foremost, I am staying Loitokitok, which borders Tanzania, and perhaps most importantly, allows me to see Mt. Kilimanjaro from the distance.

2. My host family, Mama and Baba Abdul, are ridiculously nice. Baba has a quiet smile as he shakes your hand, humble about the fact that he works hard at Kenya power while Mama is louder than life, you can't walk down the street with her without saying hello to three of her friends, seriously. She is an entrepreneur who owns three tailor shops and dreams of doing even more. Their children are sweet and intelligent, and I hope to know them more even beyond training.
3.  Safety: The threat to Al Shabab is real, and I take it as such because the Peace Corps and US government takes it as real. I don't mind our travel restrictions because I know it's for my own benefit. The threat so far as been grenade attacks in Nairobi, Mombasa, and Garissa, which makes me nervous because we will be sworn in Nairobi.
4. Safety side note: Road rage is not as bad as Dhaka, but I have been hit by a motorcycle, no real injuries, but still not fun.
5. Nature: I've seen on the sides of highways, giraffes, zebras, ostriches, and even an elephant (covered in red dust, apparently to keep coal in Tsavo). I've been to a waterfall called Gorge 51 and I hope to go to Amboseli next week.
6. Work: In less than a month, I will have been trained sufficiently to work as a public health worker in Sagalla Hills, and I will have to test for intermediate mid level Kiswahili, or, Katika mwenzi, nitajifunza kufaanya kazi kama mshauri wa afya ya uma Katika Sagalla Hills, na, nitapimwa juuya kusema Kiswahili nzuri tu.
7. Food: Food here consists of goat meat, rice, a ubiquitous corn starch blob called ugali, leeks, spinach, and fruits such as avocados and tomatoes. My host mother is amazing at cooking pilau, which is a good stew with goat, tomatoes, Indian style spices, and special rice. She also makes the best chai laced with ginger, cinnamon and alechi
7. What do I miss the most besides family and friends: Toilets, really, that's it. I will miss the hot shower once I leave the house in Loitokitok. Fortunately, these are things I can live without and I don't really miss things like food, especially with fasting going on.
8. How about family and friends: I have a picture of my mom smiling at me whenever I use this computer, and I'm lucky for such great parents to call me every now and then. My friends...I think the first two weeks were so hard just because I didn't feel very connected with people around me, because I remember people like Graham, Haithem, or Tammy.
9. How about myself: What has changed in two months...I think in the sense that I'm okay being on my own. The only person that can validate is God and myself. And just as I learn His 99 names, I'm learning the meaning of my own and the world around me, just like God taught Adam since the beginning of our time.


That's what Kenya is like, for me. As much as I can say for it. It's long, but I think this is good reference if you ask me what it's like.

Then again, it'll probably change when I move to Sagalla. No electricity, no Americans, and hopefully, less of an ego.

God bless you all,
and Ramadan Kareem

Mist morning

Rose dew mist, sun lit tryst
Does a good job of uncurling that fist
To simply just exist

Fall in love with a single raindrop
Then you can forget what disappointment is
When the tear bounces off your skin
In its attempt to cover you all of you

It's clean because its full of life, simple really
How can you ever be disappointed with that effort?

Hayo Macho

Haya macho yanataka kuwashi hiki kikombe
Chemsha, chemsha,

hii mikono, hivi vidole,
Ambavyo vinahisi na dawa ya dunia
Vinataji kuhisi moto tena

Kidogo kidogo

Inua vachopena
Busu kinachokuuma sana

Kwasababu kupenda
Na Kuumwa
Ni kujua Mungu

Hiki kikombe,
tunafaa kunwya salama


These eyes want to light this cup
Boil, boil

These hands, these fingers
Which have felt the blood of this world
Need to feel warm again
Little by little

Raise that which is loved
Kiss that which hurts terribly

Because to love
And to hurt
Is to know God

This cup,
We should drink peacefully

Mchakos

We are in Machakos currently to train in HIV awareness and prevention...and it's unsettling (though not in a bad way)

We have toilets, free wifi, people are using their smartphones (which means I am remembering again that people in America don't look at each other during conversations because refreshing facebook takes priority).

I am fasting fortunately, and the hotel staff is so kind that they even bring me food at 4:30 in the morning before sunrise so that I can eat.

I am not ungrateful, just really tired and sorta overwhelmed. There are three supermarkets here, full of bread, chocolate, juice, cheese, and many things that I'm prepared to forget about. I had chocolate milk, just because I could.

Solar panels are about 11,600 shillings if I remember correctly, that's about over 100 something dollars.

Anyway, maybe it's the fact that I get completely exhausted after breaking my fast (ironic I know), or just kind of dumbfounded by this luxury (did I say we have hot showers?), but I just want to forget and move on right now.

We went to a hospital today and saw a special section that is designed for the privacy of HIV infected patients. Care for HIV patients is so subsidized that the drugs and consultation are free, with much focus on educating the patients to continue their course of medicine to ensure health. If an infected person takes his/her's medication properly, he/she can live a full life, and that's at least one positive thing to come out about HIV for me so far in my time here.

Once again, the thing that keeps me going the most is learning the language here. I honestly don't know why I don't spend more time studying, it's well worth the time. I wrote in Kiswahili today my aspirations after the Peace Corps, going to Georgetown to get a Masters in Foreign Policy and Environmental Policy and Development, my maybes, such as joining the Army to pay for my Masters or joining the Foreign Service (either way, it's serve, and that's an important distinction for me), and my hopefully nots, that being in the Peace Corps will make me stop wanting to help people. As for the latter, as I wrote in Kiswahili, I doubt will happen, for if I am loved by my parents, then I can continue to try to make the world laugh.

On an interesting note, as I was waiting for the food to be served to break the fast, I quickly became impatient and went to my room, prayed, and then brought my guitar downstairs. Then I proceeded to play and sing.
I think it's easier for me not to eat than it is for me to try to make music.

Peace be upon you all
Me

PS: There's pizza here?!?

Stupid Mzungo, Roads are for Piki Pikis!

You'd think running through speeding traffic in Dhaka would have prepared me for this. You'd think constantly watching my left and right every time I walk would have saved me.

But no, I got blindsided by a damn motorcycle

Now I'll be the first to admit, motorcycles, or piki pikis as they're called here, are BADASS.
But when I made my list of things I do not want to suffer injury from, I thought about how being run over by an air loving motorcycle enthusiast would be on the top for painful!

But somehow things happen for a reason.

Well reason #1 being that I shouldn't have crossed and turned around to make sure my friend crossed the street safely. But I mean a deeper reason.

A sheikh gave me a book on the 99 names of Allah a few days ago, and I started learning some of them. Apparently if I learned anything after reading the Eragon series, it's that there are power in names. And one of the names in particular, was for protection. The one I recited the most though was Ar-Rahman- which means the Most Compassionate. The idea is that if I recite the name enough, the hardness of my heart will leave me.

Well, I woke in the morning, and decided that for I wouldn't bring my knife with me, which is the first time in Kenya. Then, before I left class, something told me that it was really important to put on my gloves. Those funky Everlast gloves that every person who thinks they can hide their opinion on wondering why I wear boxing gloves.

So when I turned around that fateful moment and saw the bike come at me, still having time to veer just a little bit not to hit me, I froze a bit, like a deer in headlights.

But something saved me, no, God saved me.

Really.

Think about it. The bike struck me on the inner right knee and I spun a full 360 landing on my gloved right hand. I got up, and though I was pissed off, I feared that there would be mob justice on the piki piki driver and decided to just walk home. Not a single scrape, especially on the hand which I landed.

Every day in this country I have been thinking what would I do if I was in danger, my first thought was always have a knife. But today, I didn't bring it. Today, I forgot about violence and thanked God that He kept me alive, and I walked away.

So yes, I have a bump on my knee and my right pinky is a little tender, but I will live. And those three words make me want to say three more.

Thank you God

And I will recite Your names more.

Everyone's a teacher: Dave and the chicken

The thing about catching a chicken is that even when you have it cornered, you still have to actually grab it and deal with its effort to be free.
And the thing about slaughtering a chicken is that even when you're on top of it, even when it's subdued, and even when you have the knife pressed to its throat, you still have be willing to cut hard.

But the consequence of slicing hard is that you know the consequence of it is watching her bleed away, Knowing you did it, and you better be fine with it because you're willing to eat the food God has given you. Apologies, I use religion here because the first reason why I choose to kill the meat I eat is because I should know the consequences of my actions, and I only use God's name for this heinous action.

Who else would I call out for when I do something so distressing?

I've killed four before in Bangladesh, with the chicken held down for me each time, and each time making some blunder or another, but this time was the first time I caught the chicken, killed it with no one else holding it, plucked it, and cut it.

But everyone's a teacher, including in this case, circumstance.

Dave, who was in Mali for a year as a Peace Corps volunteer, gave some really solid advice, that everyone's a teacher here, and that we can learn so much by just observing and putting ourselves out there. He also told me to stay in site for the first two months and if I ever get the urge to go back to comfort, calling friends, family or other volunteers, just go out and learn.
He told me that as an extrovert, he gained energy just from learning from others, though I'm not sure what I am (I test as an extrovert but I'm pretty sure I come off as introverted), I'll take that to heart and once in a while blog about the people I meet who have become my teachers.

In this case, I came to the Peace Corps to just learn and force myself through harsh circumstances to learn. In this case, circumstance taught me what I'm slowly beginning to conceptualize; you must have the agency to perform the actions you want to do. In this case, catch the chicken, as in, dive in and not be scared off by the energy emitted from her struggle. And in the later situation, be willing to go all the way.

Howa, my host sister, taught me a lot in her patience with me and is always willing to just be helpful. Together, we cut the chicken after peeling it (which unlike Bangladesh, where we just tear off the skin after death, they boil the chicken to then tediously pluck each feather out), and I watched her as she cut through bone and guided me through the process.

After that, we did what I've been doing everyday, practiced martial arts. After reading a manuscript from Bruce Lee, I decided that with her learning, I would focus less on teaching her my technique, and guide her to what makes sense and is comfortable for her.

In his words; "The way is no way", in that we should learn from every situation and let everyone and everything be our teachers, so that our lack of form shapes us into beautiful and unique human beings.

So, the cup is indeed empty, for we are willing to drink deep from life. Thank God we're lucky to be alive here in this universe, for we can change, and we can grow.