Pictures

I was finally able to get an album up (link on the sidebar)- considering how long it took to do so in relationship to my patience, it will probably be one a week tops. These are mostly of the people I work with and the activities that we do.

Hell's Gate and Kilifi were beyond expectations- but since I was on a bus from 10 pm last night to 6 am, then went straight to work to conduct a grueling information session, I'm going to bed. So the detailed post is coming soon.

In the meantime, the State Department is sending out ridiculously and overly terrifying emails about Kenya- while there is a reason to be aware of your surroundings, the emails sounds like all Westerners should shut themselves behind their security walls and electric fences. The boy who cried wolf, anyone? Maybe I'm naive, but sometimes I wonder if we inject so much fear into our daily lives, confusing the line between peaking around corners for the terrorists and having common sense about personal security. Things happen- all you can do is find the balance between living to the fullest extent and being smart about it. Terrifying emails three times only makes me delete them.

And dear family and friends, I love you all and thank you for the many birthday messages- and this seems slightly ironic as a follow-up to the last paragraph, but considering the multiple 'be safe!!!!!! (continued exclamation marks) and Mom playing postmaster for the family about sending the message I'm being to risky, I thought I would make a blanket statement in saying I'm fine, and while you all may have legitimate concerns about my common sense, most of the time I have people to keep me in check. Just kidding. But really, I have every intention of making it back to the US in one piece, and I'm finding the safety balance just fine.

When You See Yourself in a Crowded Room

Back home, one of my favorite things to do is to find a corner of a coffee shop and indulge myself in my work-a-holic world, or on the rare days off, a book. I shove my headphones in my ears (often listening to Steve Jablonsky, A.R. Rahman, or a little of Hans Zimmer), and delve into email answering, blog reading, or paper writing. But here in Kenya, something different happens- if you grab a booth or table by yourself, more often than not, a random stranger will come up and sit across from you, sometimes asking, sometimes not. A smile of welcome, and short introductions ensue. Sometimes you engage in conversation, sometimes you don’t. Maybe a question about the iced coffee, or whether your meal was any good.

Being an introvert and very American when it comes to spacial issues, my concept of personal space and alone-time has been spun on its head in Kenya. If I put my headphones in at work, someone walks by and takes them out, eating alone is rare (example above), and when I go home, Tua and Eric are pulling me this way and that way. Someone is always leaning on you, holding your hand, playing with your hair, or grabbing your arm, conversing and chatting. At first, it was exhausting, and took some time to get used to- it would have been intolerable for me three months ago. I was yearning for time alone, when I could just burrow deep in the confines of my thoughts when I needed to think or contemplate my navel. Yet, now, I’ve kind of grown to like it- there is something more personal, caring, creating a deeper understanding when it comes to interaction between people. A careless arm grab demonstrates a sensitivity to noticing how someone is uncomfortable in their surroundings, the close placement of bodies in a sitting group and hand-holding demonstrates sisterhood when cheering for a teammate. The boundary of air that I have always been so comfortable with when it came to everyone now is so apparent to me when someone isn’t filling it. I don’t mind hugging anymore, which is a BIG woah.

The last few days of work have been completely consumed with working on the questionnaires for Jamii Ya Kibera- there were a few set-backs, which were partly my fault in not always being a clear communicator (lesson of the week, still need to work on the fact not everyone is in my head), partly misunderstandings of what was expected by all parties involved. Yet the Executive Director swooped in and saved the day, and things are going swimmingly. I’m actually really excited now- we are bringing on trained researchers to conduct the questionnaire I developed, 7 in all (along with 7 ‘guides’), to go out and complete the questionnaire on the effectiveness of Jamii Ya Kibera and the post-election violence. I’m kind of in heaven working on this, and can’t wait to see the results. Further, the GHETTO session on public speaking I led went really, really well, and this week we are discussing conflict resolution on a personal level. The girls I am working with are just coming together as a group, so there is often still that hesitancy about being completely open around new people; it was great to see them take up the public speaking activities and put themselves out there, although I think me making a fool of myself by butchering Kiswahili Tongue Twisters probably made them feel like they couldn’t do any worse.

Yesterday, the older girls team raced with Toby, a really awesome guy that is really good friends with Salim, the Executive Director of CFK (this guy has connections like no other-I will forever be slightly envious he is friends with K'naan. Cool side note: he is using a business in Kibera to design a key chain that will be given out to his fans). He started Shoes4Africa, which is also the name of the team. It was a blast- the girls and some of the other boy members with CFK did a 3k around Kibera (I had 200 shillings on the girls winning-by the way, Toby used to be a marathon runner), and I was standing up in the back of Cantar’s pick-up with the video camera, holding on for dear life as I was being whipped around as Cantar drove typical crazy-Kenyan style through the streets of Nairobi. Adrenaline rush to the extreme. At the end, Toby gave out soccer shoes to the girls- after seeing so many of them playing in bare feet the past weeks, it makes you realize how the smallest things can make such a big difference. We also celebrated Salim’s birthday this week, which included Christmas in July and some memorable decorating.

I head to Hell’s Gate National Park tomorrow to camp overnight, and Sunday night to Kalifi (on the coast) with some friends for my 21st birthday on Sunday for three days- so I’ll be out of touch for a while. Until then, kwahiri!

In Lieu of Pics

So I am blatantly stealing this straight from Alex's blog, one of the other CFK volunteers, but only because she is stunningly and unbelievably amazing. Here is more chances to see Kibera:

• "The Constant Gardener": All of the slum scenes were filmed in Kibera. The railroad, overhead shots of the house tops, and all of the children shouting "How are you?" are very classic snapshots of Kiberan life.
  
  
• "Kibera Kid": a movie filmed in Kibera, starring a local kid. In the vein of Slumdog Millionaire though the Kiberan actors haven't been nearly as well recognized or compensated as the stars of Slumdog.

• Kiberan art project by French artist, JR: He took beautiful photos of women in Kibera, blew them up and pasted them on the tops of homes, the sides of the hills and even on the train that runs through Kibera several times a day. The coolest part is that he sliced the photos up, putting part on the hillside bordering the railroad trakcs and the middle part on the train so that when the train passed by this specific area, the parts all line up perfectly to display the whole face. I absolutely love art that turns everyday locations/materials into masterpieces as well as investing back into the community.

Thank you Alex :)

In These Stories Pages

Since I can't get pictures up/haven't really taken any, if you go to 3:50 in this video, this is Kibera, and CFK is the organization they are featuring for the clinic and soccer game, for some visuals.

For the last few days, I have had a searing pain in the right side of my chest that has made eating and drinking like taking a knife and jabbing it in the same spot over and over again, topped off with a dull residual pain, making eating a game of balancing the growling in my stomach and dealing with the repeat stabbing. Three days in, deciding that I really wanted to enjoy food again, I was off to the hospital.

Now, anyone else who travels abroad is aware that drinking the water and eating certain places in developing countries can have nasty side effects for the digestive system- but since in Egypt I never had a problem like other students, I decided that I would risk it, and I drink the water in Kibera and Nairobi. Yet it wasn’t my water or food source choice wreaking havoc on my health, but my prescribed malaria pills that caused the side effect of gastritis, leading to acid eating away at my esophagus. So now I’m on pills for my pills. I find it slightly ironic.

So I’m not sure how much coverage it got in the United States compared to here, but President Obama’s first visit to Africa as president, specifically Ghana, was a HUGE deal. It was interesting to make the comparison to Obama’s speech in Egypt last month- in both, the country I was residing in was targeted and criticized- In Israel, Obama focused on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, pointedly calling for a freeze on the settlements (a smack in the face to Israel), and in Ghana, he used Kenya as his punching bag for calling out weak democratic institutions and corruption (pulling the heart strings by using the poverty of his family as an example).

While it is difficult to make generalizations, and I’ll say first that this assessment hardly applies to all, but in Israel I remember a good majority just being pissed- Obama was being unfair, he didn’t understand the situation, he’s pandering to terrorists, etc. Even some individuals who lean liberal surprised me by going on the defensive, as if his statements were personal insults to the Israeli national psyche. A friend still in Israel mentioned in her blog that some boycotted the 4th of July because of their new disdain for American policy.

Yet here in Kenya, most Kenyans seemed to sigh in relief at Obama’s stiff and criticism- many Kenyans have voiced to me that the message was exactly what the government needed to hear, and they are glad he said it- for those individuals that it was aimed at, they just ignored it (apparently it’s a very Kenyan thing to do-ignore what you don’t like?) Instead of focusing on whether Obama was right or wrong about his statements, it was whether the politicians would get the message or not.

It’s difficult to make this comparison, because there is obviously more contention about the Israeli/Palestinian issue versus fighting corruption and political ineptitude- but I was still intrigued about the difference in reactions. It may be the sense of national identity, or the sensitivities of the issues at hand, or the fact that the everyday Kenyans feel the effects on a daily basis of the problems facing the country, while the average Israeli does not. In any case, a good lesson in how diplomacy works.

In other Kenyan news, the tribunal issue still bounces back and forth between the Hague and the local tribunal, although they just rejected a bill that would have created the local tribunal, and Ocampo, the prosecutor at the Hague, opens the envelope tomorrow. The other big story is the water shortage, which is leading to predictions of increased starvation.

In my little world of CFK, I’m content as a bee (I think the actual saying is content as can be, but I like the image of a content bee). After battling to get things done for two months in Israel, it is a relief to work with an organization that (1) has the capacity to actually accomplish things, (2) does what it can to support you in projects and tasks instead of promising to then letting you drown, and (3) has people who are just awesome. I think that is the one thing that has truly made working with CFK a joy so far- the caliber of individuals I interact with on a daily basis. Whether volunteers, part-time, or full-time staff, each individual has impressed me with their dedication, intelligence, and personality. It’s like CFK put out a bright light radiating ‘work here!’ and everyone with talent flew in like flies. Ok, that was a weird analogy, but I think the point was made. You constantly meet individuals who got involved with CFK in one of their programs in primary school, whether playing soccer or as a girl in the Binti Pamoja program, who are now part of leadership and decision-making. Something some of the other volunteers and I have talked about is how incredible CFK staff is when it comes to working in the community. Watching them interact with people, facilitate forums, energize youth to talk about subjects like ethnicity, ‘mobilize’ (they love that word) people from all walks of life to participate in events,and their knowledge of the community, I think is one of the most critical aspects of what makes CFK good at what it does, following the belief that Kiberans are the ones who know the solutions to their problems. There are still obstacles and difficulties, of course, particularly with organization and evaluation (I can only speak with the program I’m involved with), but there is this complete openness to developing and attaining these skills. While I hardly have the experience that many do, I’m truly impressed with how CFK has effectively married western assistance and grassroots, community level driven development. But that is a whole other topic.

I have a few different projects going on, and I’m enjoying them all. Last Sunday I helped develop a 2-hour session on conflict resolution, and this weekend we the new G.H.E.T.T.O curriculum I got to help develop with Lucy, Maureen, and Alice, beginning with a session on public speaking- I’m designing the Communications unit. The questionnaire is going well; I’ve gotten to talk to the people who were the brains behind starting Jamii ya Kibera, and it has been an amazing learning experience. The profiles for the G.H.E.T.T.O girls is moving right along, with a slight snafu—normally, I would go after work to the field where the girls practiced, and would sit with them individually, taking their picture and recording them. But last night, in the same field, a group of mzungus went to the field with lots of cameras, tripods, and video equipment, and ended up being mugged and robbed at about 6 in the evening. When Lucy told me this, she said don’t worry- that group was with a Kenyan who wasn’t from Kibera, and she said the fact I was with CFK, working with Cantar, (who is a local soccer celebrity), was the best protection I could have. Yet to be on the safe side, she wants to do the rest of the interviews in the homes. Once again, the whole community legitimacy thing hitting home.

Tua says hi to everyone!

Life is Hard.

I have been putting off describing Kibera, because I’m not sure I can do justice to everything I see, hear, and learn- and there is also the fact that there is so much about this place that I can never know, being an outsider and mzungu (the designated name for white people- you always know the people around you are talking about you when you hear mzungu, mzungu!). So I ask that you please keep that in mind when reading this.

Most people know what a slum is, or have some basic understanding. Kibera is composed of 11 villages, holding over 1 million people (1/4 of the Nairobi’s population), making it the largest slum in Africa. Kibera first started on the outskirts of Nairobi, land given as a reward to the Nubians who had fought for the British during WWI; at the time Kenya was still a British colony. Kibera has always been designated as a ‘temporary’ settlement, and as a result, the houses are semi-permanent, constructed from mud and pieces of tin, to allow for easy demolition. Therefore, the government has no obligation to provide infrastructures such as water and sewer services. As a source of cheap housing, Kibera expanded drastically in population during the 1950’s with the migration of Kenyans from the rural areas, leading to an influx of Kikuyus, Luos, Luhya, and 38 other ethnic groups; 50% of Kibera today is rural migrants.

One of the interesting things about Kibera is how large the youth population is- the founder of CFK, Rye Barcott, examined youth culture in Kibera for this senior thesis. Because of the extremely high unemployment rates, youth are often prime candidates for engaging in crime. Because the government does not provide services, many criminal groups composed of youths act as ‘shadow governments,’ providing services that are lacking, regulate business practices within Kibera, and are often groups to hire by politicians to promote their political interests in the community. During the 1997, 2002, and 2007 elections groups such as the Baghdad Boys and Mungiki were recruited to instigate and further violence against opponents. Youth in Kibera even have their own language outside of Kiswahili, English, and their ethnic mother-tongue, called Sheng. Sheng is normally a mix of the languages, and is unique to each generation- Cantar tells me that his generation does not understand the Sheng of another generation, and vice versa. It even varies between different slums- a youth from Mathare slum doesn’t understand the Sheng from Kibera.

Along the lines of limited governmental services, security is rare. That means when the Women’s soccer team goes for a run, it has to recruit one of the males to go with them- Lucy told me that when they go out, they have to stay out all night because its not safe to return to their homes in Kibera. Rape is a huge problem, along with HIV/AIDS, youth pregnancy, and low intensity crime. Which, by the way, since there is little to no police presence, the public has taken it upon themselves to deal with petty theft with mob justice. A few days ago, just around the corner from CFK’s office, three boys were caught stealing a radio from a women’s home, and for punishment, they were stripped, cut with machetes, and would have been doused with lighter fluid and burnt to death if the village chief hadn’t intervened. Just another example of how perception shapes everything in cultural differences: what is justice? For whom?

And obviously, poverty is a huge problem. I’m building profiles for the G.H.E.T.T.O program girls, and most can’t afford soccer shoes to play in, and often describe hunger when talking about their lives in Kibera. Following this trend, many attend informal schools, and don’t make it past primary level- the girls described home problems being a huge pressure on their ability to perform in school. ‘Life is Hard’ was repeated over, and over, and over again.

The streets are lined with trash, and in some hills you can see how the years of trash and dirt have created layers on each other-one of the most heartbreaking things is to see the children digging through it. I would like to give a shout out to my Grandma, because the random animals that roamed the house and yard, leaving lovely presents behind wherever they go, made the dogs, chickens, and goats, roaming in and out of houses and throughout the streets seem normal, although I haven’t met anyone who has a sheep living in the house. Walking around the inner parts of Kibera requires skillful climbing, ducking, and maneuvering, in between tight pathways, up trash hills, and over giant sludge puddles (contents unknown), which I haven’t always been successful at avoiding. Knowing when to breath deeply and when not to in hopes of avoiding some extremely undesirable smells becomes an art.

Kibera is so full of life- despite all the difficulties and obstacles of daily life, there is so much color, vitality, noise, smells, and movement. From the shops on two sides of a road blasting reggae as if in a competition to who can be the loudest, to the shops painted in bright, in-your-face colors, the fires burning trash, the smells of unknown foods, and the constant shout-outs to friends and neighbors, Kibera is a community brimming to the top with culture and relationships. Here, you shake everyone’s hand in greeting- a welcoming, a connection, a signal of a friendship, even if you never see them again.

So just a beginning picture, and hopefully a beginning description to build on in the coming weeks, because I’m learning something new about it everyday. I'll try to get pictures up eventually, but the connection is terrible, plus, there is the whole sensitivity to Kiberans, so I haven't taken too many.

I’ve been continuing the work previously described, and I’m loving it- frustrating, slow, yet fulfilling, enlightening, and dynamic. Next post (and I’ll get to it sooner rather than later this time) will be more about the personal experiences I’ve had, but this post needed to happen first.

PS I saw baby elephants! And monkeys (the ones with the funny butts)! And a rhino!

Jamii ya Kibera

So we are probably all sick and tired of hearing about Swine Flu, at least I know I am. On my flight to Ethiopia, the Ethiopian government handed out pieces of paper that said on the top ‘SAVE THE NATION from the Swine Flu!’ As it ended up, the same day I arrived at the Kenyan airport, a British student arrived as well, bringing the Swine Flu with him to Kenya, leading to a complete domination of the Daily Nation headlines. It was funny reading the reports of the government defending their procedures of detecting the flu, particularly since the process they said they put every passenger through upon arrival, I didn’t.

Two other major events are in the headlines, one being Somalia. A country on the border of Kenya devolving into complete anarchy, is having major effects here. There is a huge refugee population, and there are concerns that the Somalian population within Nairobi and other urban areas could cause problems, particularly since the Shabaab, or the warlords who are fighting the internationally supported transitional government, has declared war on Ethiopia and Kenya- leading to beefed up security.

The issue in the news that most closely relates to my day-to-day life here is the tribunal for the perpetrators of the post-election violence. Unless they begin the process of establishing an internal court by September (and even then whether they can proceed without corruption seeping in), the International Criminal Court holds an envelope with names that it is threatening to open and press charges, an envelope that could include the names of some very prominent officials. Further, for President Obama's first trip to Africa, he is pointedly and openly passing over Kenya, the homeland of his father, because of his disappointment in the democratic process and rule of law. This was a huge deal here, blowing up the newspapers, particularly because of his visit three years ago and the family he has here.

Just a brief outline, before the 2007 elections, Kenya was seen as the bright light of Africa, with a growing economy and improvements in social conditions within the country. But with accusations of vote-rigging in 2007 against President Mwai Kibaki from the opposition candidate Raila Odinga, Kenya devolved into violence. Because Kenya’s political parties breakdown by ethnic lines, most of the conflict was ethnically-based, and led to 1,000 deaths and thousands displaced. It shook the country to its core, tearing apart former neighbors, wrecking the economy, and dealt a severe blow the democratic process. While former UN Secretary General Kofi Annan came in to negotiate a power-sharing agreement, the underlying tensions and memory of the ethnic violence are still here- the United Nations just released a report that 500 people have been killed by police death squads. Kibera, a slum that is ethnically heterogeneous, representing all 5 major groups in Nairobi, was the location of some of the worst violence- the burnt kiosks and buildings are still visible today.

All of this playing out at this time is providing an interesting perspective for what I’ll be working on over the next six weeks- as I mentioned before I’ll be working with the Sports Program, but more particularly my focus is going to be the Jamii ya Kibera program, which was established after the post-election violence to promote conflict mediation and peace initiatives. In the immediate aftermath, CFK trained around 22 adults and 20 youths in conflict mediation skills, and now use them for community outreach and facilitation during forums they hold throughout the slum discussing ethnicity, violence, poverty, etc. They also had this really awesome outreach media campaign, promoting peace over violence in Kibera.

I’ve had multiple meetings over the past few days with Cantar, Program Coordinator for the Sports Association, Kennedy, head of Jamii ya Kibera, Lucy, coordinator for the Girls’ Soccer Program, and Sele(iman), coordinator of the Boy’s tournaments. How meetings happen here are kind of funny- there is no set time, it is just whenever people drift in and out, and you can find somewhere to sit down and talk- and it always works. They have laid out for me what they would like me to do in helping out, including a questionnaire about how residents now view the post-election violence and the tribunal proceedings, developing a curriculum for a conflict mediation program to be implemented within CFK groups and schools around Kibera, working with the youth and adults that were trained in conflict mediation by Jamii ya Kibera, creating profiles on the girls involved in the CFK soccer team, tag along on home and school visits, which follow up on the schooling and home life of the girls, and just help out in general with the tournaments, letting Cantar, Sele, Lucy, and Eric tell me what to do.

I’ve figured out the matatus, their form of public transportation (really old buses that play really loud music, drive like they are being chased by the police, and decorate with really bright colors and pictures of American popstars), have accumulated now three different Swahili/Shang teachers, fallen in love with the staple food ugali (literally just maize flour and water), and enjoyed some amazing soccer/football games. If you can’t tell, I’m loving it.

Happy 4th of July, America!

Michaela Harrari

Two posts in one day! Making up for previous slacking....

So, as promised, I'm going to start posting interviews as I get then transcribed. I debated between editing and leaving then raw, and when I can and it still makes sense, I decided to just leave them as is. I apologize for those who aren't interested in this part, so skip if you get too bored. Kenya posts will keep coming.

Michaela Harrari is a board member of the Domari Society for the Gypsies of Jerusalem. A Jew who made aliya in the 1990's, she is now married to Moshe Amirav (I'm using his most recent book Jerusalem Syndrome for context research), and is a flamenco dance teacher and English teacher in training, with background in non-profit work. She is the first person I recorded, and this is the first of two parts- the second was recorded later because of interruptions (which happened a lot with these interviews).

Michaela Harrari

(unimportant introductions)

T: Where to start, because your perspective is as someone who is on the board.

M: You can ask Amoun about how active I am.

T: You also teach classes to the kids, yes?

M: I think all of four classes.

T: Oh, well, better than none. So how did you come across the Gypsies?

(Side conversations)

M: How did I meet Amoun. An email from an acquaintance who is an musician, who knew I was interested in Gypsy music. He had found out from someone that there was an evening at the Jerusalem Hotel, which is next to the bus station, and I went, and I met Amoun. I don’t remember the year, 2000.

T: How did you get involved in the capacity as a board member, rather than just an acquaintance?

M: They asked me. I got caught! I have some background in non-profit organization in the States.

T: Oh, what did you do in the States?

M: I worked in various kinds of non-profit marketing jobs.

T: How did you get interested in Gypsy music?

M: Because of my work. I teach flamenco dance. I perform flamenco dance. One of my goals in my flamenco activities is to make some kind of connection with the communities in this area, and so there is a connection between the Domari and the Gypsy roots of flamenco. At the end of the day, I discovered actually, the connection isn’t really a live connection, because there aren’t active artists in the Jerusalem area. But on the other hand, it was certainly an interesting project, and with my social work background, I thought I could be of some assistance.

T: What do you do today?

M:I am a flamenco dancer teacher, and I am the director of a performing group of musicians and dancers, and I have children, and that’s about it. Oh, and I’m also learning how to be an English teacher.

T: Oh, ok. To teach where?

M: In a public school.

T: Wow, that’s hard.

M: Yeah, but I like children, I like the classroom. (side conversation) So it seemed right that I should be connected with Amoun, and I really admire what she is doing, and it’s a great step to take. I hope that at some point in time we will find some kind of cultural meeting point, and that’s why I came back to the girls, some of them did a little part of a show that I organized last year with three other professional dancers. We did a show about the Gypsy trail, and each dancer took one aspect of Gypsy dance and performed it, and we opened the show with Amoun’s nieces.

T: I know you talked about that cultural aspect really isn’t in this community anymore, are you trying to bring it back, or try to reinvigorate that aspect of it? Because you have a lot of background knowledge in Gypsy dance?

K: I actually don’t have background knowledge. I don’t have dance material that relates to their style. This particular gypsy community is different than the Andalusian Gypsy community. They have their own music, and their own language, and their own dance, so I don’t really see myself as a catalyst for anything; however, in my flamenco work, I would like to reach out to more children in the Arab community, and maybe my relationship with the Domari is a window. I don’t know, we’ll keep trying.

T: What kind of stuff do you teach the girls in the dance music, what kind of stuff do you do?

K: The truth this, this dance class has an unknown content that we discover as we go along, there has only been 4 or 5 meetings. Normally I start with general warm-up, and then I teach rhythm, and then I teach steps. And then I teach choreography. That is the general scope of the flamenco learning. However, this group doesn’t know if they even want to do flamenco, and I don’t even know if it is right they do flamenco. I think it is better to strengthen what natural movement then have by themselves. I am trying to pick up on that, and have them repeat them over and over and get confidence. Understand what physically they are doing; body awareness. But usually when you teach kids, it has to be goal-oriented; they aren’t so process oriented. So the goal is to let’s make a piece. I let them choose the piece, I brought them some fusion music, that has Arab elements and Spanish elements, and they liked it so now we are making a piece. But we don’t really have the conditions, because dance is visual, and there is no way they can see themselves. I hope, my goal is to have some kind of framework, where the same girls could come, and we could bring in other girls from the area, and maybe I could bring in someone who is a little more familiar with Middle Eastern dance. Another possibility is to hitch on to one of the dance forms that is accepted and performed in Jerusalem, and that is depka.

T: Depka? Could you describe that for me?

M: Depka is line dancing, it is usually for social and family special events.

T: Is it something practiced throughout entire Jerusalem, or is it more of a Jewish tradition?

M: It’s not Jewish at all. Depka comes from, as far as I understand, Circassian roots. But there are also of Bedouin roots. It’s a line dance it’s a folkdance. It has a lot of footwork in it. But that is why I thought, because of the footwork, we could find some kind of common language. The Gypsy don’t do depka so developed; however, I have heard about, and I have seen a number of depka projects come out of Jerusalem. With other groups of people. Depka, at least what I saw, is reserved for the young. However, at family events and weddings, everybody gets into it. It is a folk art that has developed into a performing art. It is the national Palestinian dance in a way, but it also goes beyond Palestine in a way, it is done in Syria and Iraq and Iran.

T: I had no idea.

M: It is the folk dance of the Levant. It doesn’t’ have the sensuality problem that oriental dance has. I can’t remember the Egyptian word, the Arabic word for dance.

(side conversation)

T: How did you come to Jerusalem?

M: I made aliya in 1992, I came with my first, now ex-husband, we made aliya from New York, and I got a job in Jerusalem, so we lived here.

T: I guess, based on, so you’ve been involved since 2000 with the Domari community. How has it really grown since you’ve been here? What have you seen changed, developed?

M: I can’t tell you about the community, because I am not part of the community, but I can tell you about the organization. It is evolving, and its certainly changed, I think the self-perception of some of the people in the community, the notion of empowerment, identity, those things, that maybe weren’t so strong before Amoun started it, have really crystallized. The organization is all the time in transition. It has a lot of growing pains, because we are talking about an oriental culture, and then all kinds of criteria that culture places on definition, and activities, and behaviour, so there is a culture clash, but on the other hand, I think Amoun has struck a pretty good balance. I think that participation in organization itself is not a natural attribute of Oriental people. They are much more family-planned and the whole notion of being part of an organization is foreign to them, being part of a family is not. So in that sense, the Domari organization is a family organization. That is the way it has to be, or its not expressing the nature of the people it represents.

(finish)

Karibu to Kenya!

So internet is a little less available here than it was in Israel, so I apologize for the more infrequent posts. I didn’t realize how addicted I was to the constant flow of news until it was cut off- I now have to rely completely on the printed Kenyan newspaper. I zeroed in on an Economist I saw my host father carrying, so I’m going to ask to borrow that to fulfill my insatiable addiction.

I arrived in the wonderful country of Kenya Monday after 18 hours of travel. Unfortunately, my departure from Israel wasn’t as easy as my arrival, and my security risk jumped from a 1 to a 5- (so much for the Jewish last name)-. They literally don’t have any concept of privacy (its pretty obvious Israel doesn’t have that whole issue with balancing privacy and security that America does), shifting through every piece of luggage, taking everything out, which was particularly awkward with my dirty laundry. At the same time, they were extremely courteous about it all; I got personally escorted through the entire airport when they weren’t sure if my bag was an appropriate size. Last notes, Ethiopian Airlines had great food, and Ethiopia looked pretty nice from the airport.

Cantar, the program coordinator for the Sports Program, and Alex, one of the volunteers, were there to greet me at the airport. The drive in was wonderful- so. Much. Color. I didn’t realize how little color there was in the Old City and Jerusalem in general until I got here, where everything is colorful- blues, greens, reds, yellows- I love it.

My homestay, well, is not what I expected- they told us from the beginning that we would have to stay outside of Kibera, since it wouldn’t be safe for us or the family to stay in the slum- for obvious reasons. While I never felt a threat walking around in Israel, here you have to be much more aware of your personal security- you don’t walk around at night, and on the way from the airport, Kantar moved my bags from the back of the truck, saying people might pull my luggage out of it in the traffic. Kibera is safe during the day, but nighttime is a whole other story.

Anyway, we drove up to this compound- a giant gate, security guard, surrounded by wire and an electric fence. I was greeted by the nanny/housekeeper, Rachel, and the two children, Tua(9) and Eric (11). Rachel showed me to my room, and it was just like, wow. I have a whole room to myself, wood floors, twin beds, a desk, and an entire wall of windows overlooking a green, luscious garden- A far cry from my roof accommodations and not-always-functioning public bathroom in Israel. I kind of didn’t know what to do with myself at first- the confusion was only compounded further when I woke up for dinner, which entailed a meal of soup, fish and chips, fruit, and milky tea.

My family is extremely well-off by typical Kenyan standards- both Tua and Eric attend private schools, and English is their main language- they speak English to their parents and Rachel over Swahili, which was a little shocking at first (for those less familiar with Kenyan history, it was a British colony until independence). It is going to take me a while to get used to waking up to a full, laid out breakfast of cereal, toast, hot tea, and orange juice, just sitting on the dining room table as I stumble half-asleep out of my bedroom. When I tried to do my own dishes, much less take it to the sink, the woman who does the laundry (she is only here in the morning) looked at me like I was crazy. I get home from CFK, and Rachel lays out for me a silver platter with tea and a snack. She makes my bed and organizes my stuff. Considering I’ve never had that in my entire life, it makes me slightly uncomfortable- I asked her to show me how to make the tea (since it is different here) so that I could do it myself and not make her go out of the way, and while she showed me, I’m still not allowed to do it myself. Rachel is this soft-spoken, tiny woman, who is responsible for the well-being of the children and house- she is here when I wake up in the morning, and still here when I go to bed. The children are absolutely taken with her. I love talking to her, and she is going to teach me some Swahili and how to cook Kenyan food.

The parents, Sam and Christine, are extremely gracious and welcoming, although they are not in the house often, leaving for work in the morning and coming back late at night. The mother works for the government (according to the children, the third most senior individual in the tax collection agency), and the father is involved in some kind of consultancy. This morning, I had a great conversation with them concerning Iran, politics within Kenya, how the violence in Somalia is affecting the country and increasing security concerns. Me, sitting drinking tea, talking politics with Kenyans with very British accents. I laughed a little in my head.

Anthony (aka Tua- he’s mad at me right now for sharing his name is Anthony) and Eric are so freaking cool and ridiculously smart- at 9 and 11, they knew the Dome of the Rock in my picture, never having been, and Eric asked me about the recent coup in Madagascar. I didn't even know Madagascar existed at 11. After two days with them, I’m convinced I want boys when that whole kid thing happens- they are so much easier, and playing soccer definitely beats playing with hair. Eric in particularly is great to talk to- because of the quality of their education, he knows more than most individuals who graduated from my high school do. Last night, he talked to me about aerodynamics and his favorite author Ronald Dahl. But the favorite topic of conversation is football (soccer). Their favorite Nintendo game is football, they both play football, and they follow football. Eric is going to Sweden in the middle of the month for a tournament. Kibera, as a slum, is an entire world away from their home- but football transcends all, as the obsession with it is the same there.

I’ll save my first few days with Carolina for Kibera, for another post, mostly because I’m not sure I can do it justice yet- just two days, and I’m already overwhelmed with how impressed I am. The people, what they do, how they do it, is just, well, wow. It is going to an amazing month and a half.