Kenya

Kenya

I met a new mzungu a few days ago.  She’s Pat, and she’s a Peace Corps volunteer in Nguluni, a very small town a few kilometers from Tala.  I’ve never been there, but I pass by it in matatus all the time.  Maybe this will give me an excuse to go there.

She’s working at Kenbric Vocational Training Centre. They’ve had Peace Corps volunteers before, well at least one that I know about.  He was around when Mark (the previous VSO volunteer at my placement) was around.  I never met the guy, but Sara and I used to see him when we first got to Tala a little over a year ago.

I run into her every so often in our college’s “Cyber Cafe” or walking to Tala.  We made plans to go eat chapati and drink tea in Tala this coming Saturday morning.

Her blog is located at http://patinkenya.blogspot.com, go check it out!

Kenya, Rants

Not me, haha, Mwai Kibaki. They say he’s the president, but he’s more like a king. I knew he was filthy rich, but a recent newspaper article in The Nation detailed his earnings. Here’s the deal, he earns 2 million Kenyan shillings as a basic salary and another 1.2 million in allowances (entertainment, they say). That’s per month, by the way. 3.2 million Kenyan shillings is approximately equal to 40,000 US dollars. Remember, per month!

Now add to that Prime Minister Raila Odinga‘s pay (who serves in a new position in the government since December, 2007’s presidential election debacle). Current newspapers quote him as saying that he should earn as much as the president, as they are supposed to be at the same level of government (co-kings, I guess!). Then we have the 200+ members of parliament who earn somewhere around 800,000 basic salary and around 100,000 allowances for things as ridiculous as entertainment, car maintenance, etc. What’s more ridiculous is that one of the first pieces of legislation these MPs pass when they arrive in office is an increase of their salaries.
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Food, Kenya, Rants

I had a funny experience in the market today: after work I went to buy some avocados and fresh corn for dinner. I found a group of mamas sitting near some vegetables so I greeted them and told them what I wanted. Just then it started raining so they invited me under their small shelter to sit on a bucket. I pointed to the maize, still in the husk, and said I wanted it but that I didn’t want to pick them off the cob. I struggled to explain this in Swahili, but I was getting close with the addition of some sounds and hand motions. I said I wanted mbili (“two”) corn and two avocados.

I again motioned that I didn’t want to pick the corn off the cob, and could she? When she understood she started laughing, then I started laughing. This attracted a small crowd of baby-carrying mamas, to whom the corn lady spoke some Kamba (the local language) and whose babies I greeted in said vernacular, and then broke the cobs in half and distributed them to the crowd for picking. As we were laughing and they were picking, I noticed there was quite a number of people eye balling our little corn-picking party. The team finished quickly and professionally (I tried it once a few months ago and I gave up, and roasted the corn instead). I gave them a bit of extra money for helping me pick the corn, and then we made some small talk and I said, “Thank you,” and, “see you later!”

These mamas are the backbone of Kenya. Kabisa (“completely”).