"how we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives"

i realized i hadn't put up any pictures from akiba...so, i a little bit about the school where i've been teaching art (and whatever else is needed) for the past month. it's located in the slum kangemi. the school day goes from 7 to 4. first thing in the morning prayers are said and memorized verses recited. then the kids-- 3 years old through high school (though i think some of the highschoolers are older than i am)--disperse to their classes. we have several breaks throughout the day for tea, mandazis (fried bread--like a doughnut but triangular), impromptu dancing, and later, lunch (usually a grit-like food called ugali). the classrooms are austere, tables, chalk board, no light, and a few heavily worn books.
the kids are well behaved, but i wonder how much they are learning. many of the teachers seem to lack any passion for teaching and the turnover is high, as they leave when better pay comes along. also it is hard to get anything done because so many subjects (some days 11) are taught each in a half-hour period. somehow kids get to secondary school barely even knowing how to read. all the international and wealthy kenyan kids go to british or american run schools because the government run schools are shit. there is just such a deeply entrenched standard of mediocrity here. the kids don't have--aren't given--the confidence that they can rise above there current standing in life and do more. imagine international: coming soon.
lower school assembly
redrover
teacher's lounge


anne
anne againe



twins
so sad


joseph, what a stud.


cha lucy joins in.

amos (reminds me of davis)
8th grade boys
picassos

my real joy though, has come from the afternoons i spent at light and power in the slum gatina. it is a group of about 10 young men who make paper bags for different shops. the slums are strewn with plastic bags, so they are trying to help the environment by promoting recycled paper. mainly i was just a cog in their assembly line of cutting, folding, silkscreening and gluing...but really that is what i love. it had an origami-like therapeutic quality. but they laughed at me when i would have to take a break, my hands red and chapped. the guys are amazingly driven and ambitious. light and power has recently instated a matching program where the boys can save for school and the anglican church will match what they save. as they walked me to the matatu at the end of each day,i got a chance to talk to the guys about their aspirations and faith and thoughts on how to improve kenya . many of them are muslims, but bishar said to me one day, "you know, we really worship the same god and in the end we will go to the same place, maybe just on different highways." perhaps this offends some people, but in a place where christians and muslims don't always get along, this magnanimity is refreshing. he also told me that to the youth here, education is everything. he said they don't want handouts. he also paraphrased the famous "eat for a lifetime" quote saying, "you teach me to fish, i'll fish everyday. you give me fish, what will i do when you leave."
also, i have become close to the next door neighbors who play in the l & p "yard". rose is one of the people bigc has been able to help to restart her roadside stand selling chips. i have completely fallen in love with her daughter lynette, who is my constant companion at the center. she will be the hardest to say goodbye to of anyone i've met here.
me and joseph
step 1: cut and fold
step two: silk screen
step 3: dry and glue
finished product
how i spend my days
mom, they love the ball we sent
me and hezbon
local security system
beatrice: the angel who makes lunch for the guys (and me!)


ivy
no toys, but lots of dirt
rose making chips

i am in love with lynnie!

"true at first light and a lie by noon...but now it is there absolutely true, beautiful and believable"

sadly, i taught my final class at akiba today. for the last 10 or 15 minutes of class i said they could ask me whatever they wanted. they wondered if i knew michael jordan and obama. we sang some jay-z and they asked me if i could dance like shakira. i explained our seasons and weather and they wanted to know which football (soccer) team i support. i asked them why kenyan children never say tafdhali or asante (please and thank you). one boy told me that kenyans do not ask for things, they demand them! i gave them all sketch books and insisted on an "asante".
then i went to light and power where they were finishing up silkscreening and gluing a batch of bags. abda, one of the guys insisted on taking me for an insider's look at nairobi. so we spent the next 5 hours on the most amazing walking tour. we walked through kawangware, through fields and under broken fences covered in barbed wire and shards of glass. we walked through a few people's homes..i'm pretty sure. "this is a short cut" abda kept assuring me. finally we came to a blue corrugated tin house with a dog-sized front door. inside i met david gathere. or "the picasso of the ghetto" as someone wrote about him..(i think you can find it online) we sat in his studio/bedroom and he told me his beliefs about art and showed me his huge and varied body of work. i was sure we were there to buy drugs, but it turns out it was much more innocent! abda had ordered a necklace with my name (magret) on it. i wrote down all the contacts i could think of for art schools in nyc--where he wants to go. i swear this guy is alex seel's black doppelganger!
then we walked through kibera, the largest slum in africa. i am working in gatina and kangemi, two smaller slums. but kibera, wow, there are no words. if you want to see it in motion, watch the constant gardener. when the pregnant main character is walking through kibera and the kids are yelling "how are you!!!". that's me. so all this walking and sun, i am hungry and thirsty, buying sausages and bread from people in kibera. meanwhile my fearless guide is observing ramadan and does not eat or drink anything. he walked me all the way back to westlands and then got on his matatu which he drives at night! what a gift of a day.

"not as the world gives"

i flew to mombasa on thursday to visit a home for girls called mudzini kwetu centre...and to get a breath of thick, sticky, salty air. the security to get into the little airkenya prop plane was non-existent: a pat down and a glance into my bag.
the home is half an hour north of mombasa in a town called kikambala. it houses 35 girls ages 7 mo. to 17 years. these young women are amazing; they have lived more life and hardships than many people three times their age. they are aids orphans, children thrown away, girls saved from child-marriages and human-trafficking. but they are all survivors and there was so much joy in their home. The place was started and is run by anthony, a lawyer who used to work for IJM. he is so passionate and economical! (they run almost entirely on solar power) about what he is doing and we talked a lot about starting a school there (mom and dad?).
everynight i was there it poured and coconuts and mangoes fell like bricks on the leaky tin roof. the first night i sat up in terror and got miserably tangled in my mosquito net. each morning we awoke to the kokorikoo koo (that's what a rooster who speaks swahili says) and the horrific, humanesque screams of the donkey. on friday the girls went to school from 6:30 am to 6:30 pm on a school bus that was donated to the home. i took the day to explore the surrounding area. i walked through fields of maize, herds of goats, huts made of mud and coral, monkey back rubs, trees with the most amazingly complex root systems, and 4 year old girls carrying their little sisters on their backs while fetching water. for some time i followed a young woman carrying a huge cylindrical water jug on her head (with he round side on her head!) even when she whipped around to look at me, she stayed balanced. i have read that african women and girls spend an average of 8 hours a day gathering 15 to 20 liters of water. especially in rural areas, this prevents them from education and other activities and often leads to physical problems and disfigurement from the weight. mom, i told someone about the contraption we saw at the design show in nyc...but i haven't seen them here.
we spent a rainy saturday making art and jewelry on the porch. the girls are so polite and they all called me momma. saturday is also apparently the day they all rebraid their hair, so i, in turn, got a headful of plaits. on saturday night i was tricked by some of the house moms to go with them to get their hair done at a salon. to get there we had to cross a little stream and several of them asked me if i was able to jump. i explained to them the stereotype we have that white people can't jump..i'm not sure how it translated, but i at least had a good laugh. i sat for over an hour, feeling very white, in the open air salon until i finally matatued back to mudzini. a black woman's hair is a world of mystery that i will never understand.
on sunday, a british couple who had heard about the home treated all of us to a day at a beach resort. the girls had so much fun swimming and being served by the hotel staff. it was hard to leave such a happy place and all those beautiful children..but i'm back in nairobi now.

Riziki

macharia and riziki

macharia: the only boy in the home. is is there with his twin agnes. they were found almost dead but are now doing well though still very week.

sort of like fripp!







can you see it?





jumwa gathering fruit


shi shi



anthony

womboy and the donkey

art on the porch

rehema


small word. kimberly who braided my hair

at the beach resort

visitor who stole our snacks