What a week! I have been so busy that I didn’t even write in my journal.
But I saw so much.
This week I went to 6 of the 12 schools supported by Lewa. Lewa's Education Programme provides schools with financial support, bursaries for students from primary up to university, physical infrastructure, educational materials and curriculum. It's a pretty big deal. What's more, they connect people with students who they can sponsor, and whose progress is monitored throughout their years of education. I believe you have to pay for highschool here, so many people end up dropping out.
In each school my job was to take pictures of the kids, the classrooms, the buildings, and any other developments of interest. I jumped into the education truck with Mercy and Samuel the driver.
Some of the schools we went to were SO far away, over roads that looked like…. Well not roads. In fact every now and then when we would be riding over some crazy terrain at a strange angle Mercy would say randomly “This is a rroad” (sometimes they rroll their Rs here), and we would all burst out laughing. Mercy and Samuel were hilarious. They turned up the radio and chattered on in Swahili and English, trying to teach me new phrases. They also picked up many hitchhikers, which I thought was really decent. Some kids walk hours and hours to get to school, so they would let them hop in the back. Others were men or women with babies, who were walking alongside the hot dusty road. Every time they stopped Samuel would say “Oh man” a la Bart Simpson, but you could tell he really didn’t mind, and I have to say I don’t think he would ever refuse anyone.
We were stopped in our tracks by a bunch of camels crossing the street, and I went crazy with “Awwww? Aren’t they so cute?” While Mercy and Samuel laughed and looked at each other.
As we drove through the communities surrounding Lewa we saw a man next to the road holding a cow. He had brought grass for it to feed on, but it couldn’t even hold up its own head. He let go and the head slumped forward to the ground. It was really sad.
We traveled way out into what felt for me like the middle of nowhere. Mercy told me that on her first day they were driving to somewhere really remote and they came around the bend only to find a Maasai man who had undressed and was about to take a wash in the nearby stream. Unfortunately the goats got frightened by the vehicle and took off. Now, livestock is of utmost importance to rural people so of course the man proceeded to run down the road after them. In the nude. The driver was embarrassed, but the man didn’t care… And Mercy said she was thrilled!
We passed a man sitting by the roadside, alone. He had a sign, and was selling his cow for 2000 shillings. They clicked their tongues and said What a shame, that A cow cost 20,000 shillings at least. There had been no rain. The livestock were dying. He was trying to salvage what he could.
On the way home we passed the same cow that couldn't lift its head. Just waiting to die. It was depressing.
But visiting the schools was definitely not depressing. Taking pictures was a unique experience in each school.
The first one was a nursery school, and defo the youngest tots of them all. They all crowded around the truck and when I got out they all wanted to touch me. Everyone shakes hands here as a greeting, and that included these taters. They all wanted to shake my hand. I tried to look at each of them in turn and shake their tiny little hands (with the faint thought of chicken pox and other little kid illnesses at the back of my mind I’ll admit it). But they were the cutest, sweetest little people! They were all smiling and fascinated by me. One girl took hold of my hand and held it for almost my whole duration there. Others saw my shirt hanging out from under my sweater and started talking about it animatedly. They lifted my sweater and looked up under it to see what this red and white shirt was all about.
The teacher got the kids to say the alphabet and numbers in English as I took pictures. I could have stayed all day.
Luckily that was just the first school I visited, and although I couldn’t stay all day, I got to go to 5 more schools during the week. At one school every time the flash went off the kids would scream and cheer like they just won the lottery. They followed me all around and wanted to be in every photo. When I would show them the image on the back of the camera (yay digital) they would shout and push to see where they were and cheer with delight.
The staff room:
The old school house compared with the new one that Lewa built:
In another school, with older children, they were super disciplined, and sat quietly until I was finished. I showed them the image and they all “burst” into soft whispers.
This continued throughout the week, Mercy, Samuel and I on our little missions. The older kids were shyer. They would stare at me and answer when I greeted them, but then collapse into a fit of giggles as I walked away. Only once did a boy ask me in English “What country are you from?” and “Is it your first time in Kenya?” He was just 13 years old or so, and very serious. I was impressed by his confidence, especially since it seems that people feel self-conscious to practice their English.
The final School was north of Lewa in the rural Maasai community of Leparua. This is a very poor area, where the school is often only half-full because the people are pastoralists and walk miles away to graze their livestock. Especially nowadays with the drought, the school has been almost empty.
Myself and Samuel on a rock on the way to school:
I went with Samuel and Aloyse, a young man who teaches adult learners. Most of them are women, because apparently it’s not very manly to want to learn. At the school I also met Kitonga, who is a Maasai elder (he’s in his thirties) and also teaches the adult learners. He told me all about the area and the community. Then Hussein, another teacher give me a tour of the grounds, and his take on the school’s history.
Kitonga and I in the school yard:
A committee meeting:
Hussein in front of the kitchen (note the outdoor stoves in the foreground). They provide porridge and other food for the children, whose families often survive on less than $1 a day:
Our truck:
The trip was really interesting. I sat in on the end of class, because we were so far away that Samuel actually waits and drives everybody back to Lewa. One woman in the front row, the eldest one I could see, looked directly at me and said “Hello!” “How are you!” I laughed and said Fine thanks, and went over to shake her hand. “She’s practicing her English on you,” Aloyse told me. The woman barked a few more phrases at me, and I answered. The other women laughed at her, but actually her English was perfect, and I bet they wanted to practice too.
Men on the left, women on the right:
Then they all sat for a while talking in Maasai. “We are trying to come up with ideas for an income-generating project,” Kitonga told me. As their discussion became quite lengthy I ducked out of the room and into the yard where some men were sitting around. “Listen to them,” one of them said irritably, “just making a lot of noise.”
I heard giggling, and found three teenagers peaking at me from around the edge of a water tank. They ducked out of sight.
As the class came to an end, I went back in for a portrait of the teachers. First they had to lead a group prayer. One woman stood up and rattled off a long sequence of sounds, words in a language so foreign to my ears. As the women spilled out into the afternoon sun, they rocked their bodies and started to sing in unison.
Aloyse, Kitonga and their class:
“Okay!” Samuel said, worried about getting home for his dinner. “It’s time to go!”
I got in the front seat with Aloyse, while Kitonga and a bunch of adult students piled into the back. As we drove down the mountain I turned off the radio. I could hear singing. They were all singing together in unison and in harmony in the back of the truck. A happy sounding song I thought. I love music, singing and dancing, and was exclaiming so to the guys. “They’re always singing,” Samuel said. “They would love to sing for you,” Aloyse said. “Next time,” I told them, “I want to sit in the back with them!”
A Lewa water project on the way home:
Us in the truck, without Mercy this day:
The Lewa School new nursery classroom, with donated furniture and goodies:
Please note that even boys in rural Kenya pose making gang signs in photos;)
The staff room:
The football pitch:
Teachers' quarters:
The school band practicing:
The adult learners:
