What it is and is not about (whatever "it" is)

(***There are two new blogs below this one***)

It's not all about HIV/AIDS, it's about worms and parasites, a decent meal - malnutrition, diarrhea - a common killer, malaria - a common killer, the common cold...

It's not about flushing toilets and running tap water, i laugh at the thought of hot water, it's about finding something clean and safe to drink, a place to dispose your waste

It's not about the slums and urbanization, it's about the fact that there are no opportunities in the rural areas, it's a flee and a migration for a job and an education

It's not about the corruption, it's about the disparity, the underpaid, the overworked, the cause of the corruption

It's not loitering, it's waiting for a job, a handout, an opportunity, a scrap

It's not despair, it's all they know

It's not equality, it's oppression

It's not "we do this because it's the best way", it's "we do this because it's the only way"

It's not government, it's an iron fist, don't breath too much, if they have water and electricity and an allowance for their dog, you can starve

It's not about politics, it's about which ethnic group has the power, which tribe has the money, the superiority over the other, it's about the 42 different ethnic groups in Kenya, each with their own culture, land, and language

It's not about owning land, it's about what land you were forced out of and forced into by the ones that colonized you not that long ago

It's not about developing the country for the country and it's people, it's about developing the country for the benefit of the few, the superpowers, and the superior

It's not about the truth, it's about ulterior motives

It's not about the long term, it's about the short term

It's not about accepting things the way they are, it's about learning why things are the way they are

It's not about what you need or want, it's about making the most of what you have, being resourceful

It's not free education, it's school and exam fees and uniform costs, the system of education is failing it's own students

It's not free healthcare, it's medication costs

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It's not what you see on the surface, read in the blogs, or hear in the news. It's what you live, eat and breath. The people who become your friends and family. The homes you live in. The stories you hear face to face. The ones you hug, think about at night, and worry about everyday. It's about the ones you can't wait to see and know you'll miss.

When I think about what it (whatever it is) about I think about the little girl that doesn't go to school but waits by my house for me everyday. She stands there and waits for me to come home so she can run to me as soon as she see's me in the distance and jump into my arms. We can't understand each other speaking but we understand each other different ways. I think about her - Lindsay. So tiny, her smile takes up her whole face. I can't even imagine the day when I'll have to leave her. Not only her, but the other kids that join her and run through the village after me when they hear or see me coming.

I think about my host mom. I think about all she has seen in her 60 years. She has outlived each of her children and her husband. She is so strong. I think about her kids. I think about how excited they were to see a camera. How curious they were. How we played with it for a whole hour. My heart dropped to learn that many of them were HIV+, many have no parents. Many are malnourished. Many only eat the meal my mom gives them and nothing else, because there is nothing else.

I think about my friend, our milkman and farmhelp Nelson. He laughs and smiles everytime he sees me. He is so handsome - I wonder if he even knows this. He doesn't know how old he is. How can you have no birthday to celebrate. He speaks the little english he knows while I speak the little swahili I know. I wonder where he will be in ten years.

I laugh when I think about the kids at primary school. I think about the girls that I tried to help carry water with, I wasn't even strong enough to lift the bucket to my head. I think about the day I was walking home from school, I had taught class 3 and class 4 the Old McDonald Had a Farm song that day...I was walking home and all of a sudden, I hear all of the kids banging on their empty water buckets and singing behind me, "Old McDonald had a farm..." I think about my class 5. There are over 65 kids in my class. All 65 of them squish onto wooden benches, and pass around pencils - they share because they don't all have pencils. 65 kids in one class. I think about all the other classes, how over half kids in the school are orphans. I think about how excited they are to greet me every morning. I think about how much they value their education, how well mannered they are, how hard they work.

I think about Walter and James. Walter is the caretaker at Ogada Children's Home and James is the cook. I think about all of our conversations, my failed attempts to help make lunch, how they rush to make tea whenever they see me coming. I wonder about their past and what brought them to Ogada.

I think about the teachers at my school. They work 7 days a week. I wonder if I am fit for this kind of job. They know every single student in their class - even with class sizes often over 65. They spend their own money to make sure students have pencils, medicine, paper, lunch, etc.

I guess it's about the people?

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