American 20 something

"Look at us all, boundless meandering wanderers

Nowhere bound, lovelost starstruck whirling ponderers

Forming gentle honeyed milk soothe nothings within the wave of our whispered reverberation

Dying and relighting like phoenix flame moths, tiny candle souls melting our generation"

The spirit of our American youth generation. I can only say it once, and ten years from now, I'll be looking down rather than right into the eyes of what it means to be young.

Growing up we look up to these 20s, and later on we look back but there's one thing I want to say I appreciate about being young, and one thing I want to say about the Americans around me.

I really enjoy the fact that I'm growing. Not physically sadly enough, but that's okay I'm fine without a second puberty, because I know that I've mentally grown at least two feet since first coming to Kenya. Being in the Peace Corps, you have no choice but to deal with things that are so basic you wondered how you could be so numb to them back in America. 

Water is finite, they come in the form of two 20 liter tanks that I used to cook (when I feel like it) and bathe (not going to repeat the previous side comment).

Getting from one place to another takes energy, commitment, and motivation. No hopping in a car down the high way, it's walking for a half an hour or more one day, and back again. I'll never hesitate to use a car to drive again to see friends back in the US.

Food is not always granted. Sometimes I don't have the foresight to shop ahead of time and am left with nothing at night. But more importantly, things have to be in season for there to be plenty.

Try living on under a dollar a day (about 85 shillings) and you'll see how limited your options are. Especially if you don't have the capital to buy ahead of time in whole stock, a typical day in Sagalla looks like this.

Breakfast:

1. Two Mandazi (10 shillings)

2. Chai (15 shillings)

Lunch

1. 1 chapati (15)

1. Beans (15)

Dinner

1. 1 Chapati (15)

2. Beans (15)

That's dollar. If you want toilet paper (30 shillings), phone credit (20 shillings minimum), or even 20 liters of water (10 shilling), you better skimp on some meals.

Kudos to Yasmin Hussein for inspiring me to take a similar challenge to MPAC's Food Stamp Challenge, and Louis Vayo for his successful endeavor to do so last year.

If you want fruit, you'll have to wait for the right season unless you want to fork the 300 shilling round trip to go to the city. Then factor in medical emergencies...you see the picture.

The thing is, the more I learn, the more I get out of this numbness that strikes at the heart of my dissonance with the world.

I've noticed it, our generation, has more than any generation, delved deeply into our own psyche. We are more introspective, imaginative, and some ways lost, than any generation before that. I mean that in complete quantity. The fact that Facebook is a way to communicate with the masses by just becoming self involved shows that. It's a need, to be connected, but also a symptom, of how disconnected our generation finds ourselves. 

Ask your parents, especially those like me who were 1st generation, did they have a poetry phase at the age of 12, did they play at least two different instruments, or delve into so much media to the point where they were "film buffs". We've laced every thought and concept in our life with our own flavor, individualized in our own identity.

That is our American generation, born from a time when the economy was supposedly perfect (I'm a 90s baby, laugh), and raised when following your dreams goes hand in hand with the cynicism joblessness brings.

From Liberal Arts majors waiting tables, to fresh grads accepting data entry for the comfort of the pay check. There is so much of our generation that is looking...for something.

Will we find it in a Masters, in an adventure in voluntourism, in tried and true romantic relationships? I honestly can't give you an answer until we reached past this part, but I can say one thing, we're growing mentally at a rate I think is extraordinary throughout these 20s. While growth can be destructive as well, too many thoughts turning into depression or even apathy, but it's as intrinsic being an American 20 something as waking up in the morning and blinking until the you're wide awake.

This is what it means to be young, to climb uphill, and to grow for it.

So here's to this generation, this generation of lonely, lovely, wanders. May our pilgrim's journey inspire the next batch of youngsters behind us. It's our legacy

Heck, I'll look at this photo years from now and remembered that I sharpened the blade that killed a snake, was used to feed 30 people goat, on top of Sagalla, where I grew up

Handling fears

Exactly a year ago I was on my way out from Bangladesh.

I spent four months there in transition from the last three years spent in American University, studying International Relations, developing leadership and community engagement abilities through working the Muslim Student Association and American University House and Dining Programs.
I was horrified I think, for lack of more fancy terms, of the future ahead.
It wasn't an issue of masculinity, potency, or even wonder about what I actually what I wanted to do.
It was the fear of the transition.

I always feared transition, I put it as number 5 within my top fears of
1. Feeling useless
2. Being weak
3. Losing integrity
4. Losing a sense of compassion
5. Transitions

I waited exactly 16 months to leave for the Peace Corps, but back then in January 11, 2012, I would have to wait two months and 24 days to even find out that I was assigned to Kenya. That was the day, April 4th, 2012, that I finished my Firefighter Level 1 exam, the month before being sent reading over a 1000 pages and countless hours on the field because the month after I came back from Bangladesh, I stepped into the Monmouth Junction Fire Department and said I wanted to sign up (fear number 2)

I found out a few days ago that there might be the possibility of violence March in Kenya because of the elections. Without violating anything security wise, I'll tell you that in 2007, when there were elections in 2007, tribal violence wrecked the country, and more selfishly, Peace Corps Kenya was evacuated.

Rather than wondering about the state of Kenya, where people will most probably lose their lives (shaming me right now, fear number 4), I'm thinking about fear number 5, transitions.

I don't know if I love Kenya, but I love doing work here, I love being effective.
I helped motivate a group of over 76 people to desilt a dam, I taught over 546 people water sanitation, I've helped organize hospital and outreach data of over 6,500 people to a format that can actually allow us to better the health of Sagalla. I can tell you how many children had diarrhea within the last 6 months or how many pit latrines are missing by village.

A year ago, I was jobless, unmotivated, and frightened.
I don't want to be that person again, motivated by fears rather than working to actively fight them.
I know I'm useful here (fear 1), I know I'm strong (fear 2), I have no reason to doubt my own integrity (fear 3), and I'm coming to terms with the fact that even if I am not the same person who walked up the homeless in DC and gave them sandwiches, that I still desire to help people even if I don't feel the same way (fear 4).
So now it's just fear 5, transitions.

I have no idea where I'll be on April 4th, 2013, exactly a year after I was granted direction by the US Government, but challenges are fact, not fancies of fate, and I'll accept whatever comes, and stop letting this fear take me over.   

House on the hill

Almost every day at work, I forget and remember how beautiful Sagalla is.

I sit on a wooden bench within the health center facility when I take a break and usually have a book, lap top, or memories to chew over as I look over the flower garden.
Every time though, I stop thinking what I'm thinking about (work, future, cat) and look over the horizon and see just how, from where I'm sitting, you can see a house on top of the hill, and I kid you not, every time I look at that house my heart lightens.

Because the house is nearly touching the sky.

God sometimes I pull my head out whatever self wallowing waters I feel like drowning in and remember that this world is great.

That in reality, life is wonderful.

Yes, I can look at the sick and disease around me, I live in a place where based off my own research at least 15% of the population has no idea of their HIV status, where food has been scarce, and there is a funeral every other week (23 by my count from July to December), but this is not a life worth being cynical about. This is not a world where you can be satisfied sitting in one place out of hatred for the outside.
People here are making the best of their life, boys playing futbol, women attending church in their Sunday best, kids playing racecar with a soda bottle and four bottle caps.
And when people here decide to wallow, mostly by the bottle, that's when you see the bit of happiness they had, much less material wealth, swallowed up.

Yes, the economy is bad, people are blowing themselves up in crowded market places, the water table is rising, swallowing up places such as my parents' country of Bangladesh, but if I wallow in that, and not remember the good that people still do, I'll forget the reality that this life is beautiful.

I sat on the edge of a waterfall last week and didn't feel a thing because I was too busy feeling stressed out from the daily workload, it's time I remember why I'm here.
You can do it too, I know what it's like, applying to job after job, getting no response, but there are still friends to laugh with, parks to find meaning in, and room for self improvement.
Without an attempt to jump, there can be no transition. We can only be the people we want to be by moving forward.
I'm here for hopefully two more years, and I'll do my best to remember that, and when I forget, I'll have that house on a hill.

Honest Reflection

The sky was a illuminated dark blue flecked with silver stars and grey raspy clouds. The wind was a gentle breeze, cooling my hair and surrounding me with the invisible feeling of God.

This is what our training group called an "I can't believe I'm in Kenya" moment.

It would be a moment, never planned, never pined for, and never ever precipitated, where we would pull our heads out from our blinders and realize for a second, how free we were in a land where you can see forever, where the nights are still innocent from the pink haze I remember from the DC twilight, and where there is nothing to idealize, because it's there.

And I think that's where the problem started.

Right now, I have been nursing a "I dislike Kenya" phase. It all stemmed from the fact that "I can't believe I'm not in America". When you are in a different land, you go through the honey moon phase if you're lucky, and think everything is wonderful, and eventually, you stop thinking so because you realize that the only thing you can compare your life here with, is to the good parts of your life back in America.

Rather than wondering about random zebras and giraffes loitering along the Mombasa-Nairobi road, we tended to miss our cheeseburgers, internet, and work mentality.


But isn't that why I escaped in the first place? To get away from the obesity that is arguably plaguing the American spirit? From the addictive additives, the mindless cruising in cyber space, to working in cubicles, I joined the Peace Corps to get away from it, and now I need to get away from that feeling inside my own heart.

I won't disparage the American way here, because every volunteer will tell you how much she or he appreciated the ingenuity and hard work put in on a daily basis from the people of our nation, but I won't disparage Kenya by comparing the country to the land of my birth.

I actually don't enjoy safaris or travelling to see different scopes, I know I shouldn't limit myself by not exploring, but in being true to my own nature, what I do enjoy is breathing and living in the fact that what I do matters.
I eat food that from the soil and does not have high fructose corn syrup, I might not get a lot of it, but even in that struggle I'm learning. I don't have a smart phone and am comforted with the fact that when I speak to someone, they aren't burying their face into facebook for about 30% of the conversation at least. And when I work, it has to do with trying to better the lives of people. I can honestly tell you the number of people I've helped teach water sanitation, educate about HIV, and I can show the scars on my hand from using a shovel, hoe, and machete to clear the dam. It beats anything I've done back at home.

This is my life, and if I go around this land and still think it's not as good as home, than I think I'm losing the point of the fact that
"I'm in Kenya", and I better believe it.

What Drives Us Further

Self efficacy, imagination, and the agency to act.
I told myself I wouldn't post until the work at Latta Dam was done, failure or success.
I can wow you (maybe) with this

From this

With dirt higher than 7 feet, we accomplished more than any person in Sagalla has done on the dam in more than 30 years. We cleared a dam for irrigation. So that when the rains dry up, we'll have this

But the story, as usual in development, is so much more complicated.

 Since mid September, I worked about 3-5 days a week breaking, shoveling, and removing by bucket dirt with a group of Community Health Workers (CHWs). The work was hard, exhausting (I never had enough water to drink, I can't imagine what it was for the health workers), and dirty. I thought this project would take one month, but instead, it took three.

The idea was for the health workers to clear the dam so that they would have enough water for the rainy season, they would in short, restore the purpose of a dam built more than 50 years ago (which was not maintained because of lack of any technical knowledge).

But the difference between my idea and your idea is that ultimately, we are coming from different directions.


A community health worker is ultimately a volunteer who decides to help the community by being trained in health awareness and outreach. It's a fascinating concept that empowers people who are normally uneducated to help their own community.
It works

 But what doesn't work is when NGOs come in and basically offer free money to the community and more importantly, free ideas.
My counterpart is a brilliant man. He works so hard for the betterment of the community and secured a grant for this land for the CHWs, but the CHWs themselves, because they did not feel the cost of the dam, felt like they couldn't clear the dam without an excavator, without Worldvision to give food for aid. In fact, APHIA Plus (US AID) even paid them 200 shillings every time they came.
But after 2 months, no one came.
Everyone stopped, blaming it on the rain that hardly came and more importantly, that the work was too hard.
In between the work, sometimes 4, 3, or even no one came especially on days where APHIA Plus was holding farming seminars (which included paying participants).
It broke my heart partly.
When you can paid to do work for yourself, why even try?
A part of me wanted the project to fail to feel the consequence of not working hard enough as a group. Because the CHWs stopped coming after they got up to this

 And then I stopped coming, what was the point? Why try if I'm the only one, another outsider giving assistance when no one necessarily asked?
And then Worldvision stepped in, offering free food if villagers work, and all of a sudden, participation went from this

To this

Incentives are wonderful things, but I know for a fact that here, when the incentive is the only picture, the overall purpose, self reliance in irrigation, has lost its full purpose.

However, what type of person would I be when I saw how much work has been done do to another NGO's money that I'd still desire to want the project to fail.

No, as I've learned here, you have to work with what you're given.

And when I feel tired beyond measure

I climb to the top in the rain and thank God for how far I've come

My dad told me the important of self efficacy, of belief in yourself, and I've realized I haven't for such a long time. And now I know I am good enough for this world, not in competition with humanity, but just a part of and willing to be the best I can be. When agents of Development fund people "for their own good", slowly bit by bit, one cannot compete with free resources that they did not strive for. Then truly, one will believe that they need someone else to do it for them.

I now know imagination matters too. The simple process of having a vision beyond the physical reality of barren dry soil and doing something more. My counter part has that vision and that's why this work happened. Though I completely understand what it means to own your own project. When you are just working hard for something but not sure why you are doing it, when it's not your idea or your plan, how much are you moving forward as a person?

And finally, I've said this before, the agency to act. It's one thing to have belief and vision, but if you don't do it, don't take the energy to get up and stand, then what's next? NGOs promote agency through money, money does not buy development, it's not different than dictation and colonization.

I now know in Kenya, that it's important to be okay with the way of life here, I'm not here to fight it, just understand it, and be so grateful that I'm learning.

Thanks Dad. Seriously, I love you

Why I love Islam in this modern era

As we were climbing up the hills back to Sagalla, wind in our faces, cleaving dust into our eyes, somewhere among the countless turns and passes by larger trucks and vehicles, I looked into the stars.
Stars as wondrous as reality intended, unfaded by lack of artificial light, clear as only a mountain view can afford.
I thought "If I were to die right now, by some freak turn of events, this would be the last memory embedded in my heart"
And then I thought of our beloved Prophet, Peace be upon him, and how the entirety of the Quran was lodged in his heart, and how those passages kept him company even as he awaited every man's fate.

"La Ilahah, Illalahu, Muhamadur Rasoolilah"
"There is no God but Allah, and Muhammad is His Messenger"

That was the first thing lodged in my heart at that moment, as the cold air swept my face, and it hit me as physically as the gust.
The Prophet represents the best in us, for we are just as human.
For there is truth, God, and then there is a human, Muhammad, worthy to be His Messenger.
We too can have the Quran in our heart.
Along with it sayings such as

"Because God will never change the Grace which He has bestowed on a people until they change what is in their own soul: and verily God is He Who hears and knows all things" Surah 8, verse 53

"To each is a goal to which God turns him; then strive together (as in a race) toward all that is good. Wheresoever you are, God will bring you together. For God has power over all things" Surah 2, verse 148.

How is that not a blessing, when you are at your last breath, you can recall such verses in your heart, and because they are in your heart, they become a feeling.
A feeling from God.


Do you remember that God taught the Prophet Adam "the names of all things", the ability to understand the world for what it is.
Do you remember when the Prophet Abraham was deciding what he should worship? He wanted to worship the moon, sun, stars. But then he realized things for what they were, physical phenomena, and that is not the entirety of God.
Do you remember how God told us, when we die "That God may reward them (the doers of good) according to the best of their deeds..." Surah 24, verse 28. We will literally shine from the good we do, from the sparks in our hearts.
This is why I love being a Muslim in the modern world.

A world where these is reason, acceptance of science, and sadly, much need of love. For that I love the words in my heart, I love knowing that the sky is as beautiful as my life is fleeting. I love knowing that even if that is the truth, spending the few moments of my time loving makes this test bearable.
I love knowing that I must deserve Heaven, not expect it, though I know I am worthy.

I love knowing that my heart was broken the day Ambassador Chris Stevens died.


He was a volunteer as well, in Morocco, before his time in the Foreign Service. He taught children English, little boys and little girls. He did God's work because he was a human being that cared. And he died of smoke inhalation, which is basically burning from the inside out. That was his fate.
His pain, this is the pain that a few can bring when they take advantage of a situation.

Is that the love that was from our Prophet, is that Islam since its inception?


"Muhammad is no more than a Messenger: many were the Messengers that passed away before him. If he died or were slain, will you turn your back on your heels? If any did turn back on his heels, not the least harm will he do to God: but God (on the other hand will swiftly reward those who (serve Him) with gratitude." Surah 3, verse 144.


He had the words of God in his heart, and like any other Messenger, he warrants respect, not for being an otherworldly being, but for being one of us, and still standing for what is good. Now, do we turn back our heels? No.

"From whensoever you start forth, turn your face in the direction of the Sacred Mosque; that is indeed the truth from your lord. And God is not unmindful of what you do". Surah 2, verse 149.

My friends, I love  Islam in the modern times because this is a time of reason, science, and a need for empathy. Empathy for our friends, our community, and the people who are so emotionally broke that they  use guns and explosives to show their pain. We are the Muslims who know one need not be Muslim to listen to God, and that one may not listen to God even if he is Muslim.
Let's rectify that, bit by bit, within our own lives. We can do it by putting more of God's words in our heart, turning it into feelings of love, and letting those feelings out to our fellow brothers and sisters.

Show them the Rope that we hold onto so dearly.
God bless you and I love you all. 

Fear of Development

You know,

I'm a hypocrite.

This is my current profile picture, but I actually really hate it. It gives the impression that I was teaching the 50+ CHWs how to make the "Kibongoro Cheoga Vala" (Kisagalla for "Handwashing Container").

But in reality, though I did talk about using it. For the most part, I was very, very adamant that a Community Health Worker and fellow Sagallan teach his peers. In fact, the picture below was the reality.

That's CHW Frank, he knows how to play guitar, carries a Bible that has the cover depicting Jesus fighting sinners like an action star, and he's been super kind to me.

He trained them, and with his teaching, the hospital staff taught about why it's important to use it.

While no CHW used the handwashing station before, after his demonstration, the work of the staff, and the naming of the station as a Sagallan invention. This happened.

25+ people washed their hands, about 50 were trained that day

I really am afraid of NGOs and foreigners like myself. We come to Kenya, and on a larger scale Africa, with technical expertise from our parts of the world and assume that by imposing it on the community, we are helping them. By telling them "through our help, you will succeed", we believe that we are developing.
But I don't believe that's  development,  it's neo colonization.
And not just money, not just donating schools, dams, food, you're also spreading ideas.
Ideas that don't come from the community, ideas that leads to dependency.

We do it for good intentions, but here is the result, you give a people things without telling them how to use it, or why they should even need to use it, you create an atmosphere where they will either
1. Believe they can't live a good life without outside help
2. Not know how to sustain your gifts after the money runs out or the dam malfunctions
3. Not even bother with your gift because they never needed it in the first place
4. This is the worst, be screwed over because the infrastructure set up to provide an income for them (such as maybe rabbit farming) collapses after your organization leaves.

So that's why I'm afraid sometimes, that's why I hate that picture, and that's why I'm a hypocrite.

But I'm happy
Because I know that now, after being here, and am grateful God gave me this experience..

The Quran states that the greatest charity is one where the giver takes no credit. And in this world where I blog, email, call, people will know what I do, but if I can leave Sagalla after two years and be known "as that Mzungo who was around, but I'm not sure what he did", but in reality, helped teach others to convince their neighbors to wash their hands, or to use condoms. Meaning that I was able to assist without the Sagallan people thinking they were helped by a foreigner (because they empowered themselves). I think that wouldn't be terrible.
 I don't know, I thought about this a lot, and guys, I just don't want to be that person who just brags about the work he does, because that is not the human being I want to become. No, I want to be Muslim, or try to be at least, and that is not a knock on other people or faiths, but it's time I just practice what I profess right?

Lot's of love,
Tanim