Friday, March 6, 2009

Post dated Pickles

Pole Sana.. Connectivity issues and slowed my blogging.

So whats the deal about pickles? And kwa nini they always seem to been green? I decided I am going to get to the bottom of this mystery as well as many of the other mysteries about picking in the up coming month. My first experiment is pickling tomato and onions. Later, meats.

Variations on a theme: Family in Kenya part 1
To my readers: I have a kiswahili test coming up so there will be some words you might be unfamiliar with.

Not surprising families in Kenya very much the same as families in America, there is a mother, father, sisters, brothers, grand and great grand all sorts of things and cousins coming out the wazu. This however isn't where this blog ends.
While the players are named the same often the roles change. Mama's tend to be the heart of a family. Between raising the children and cooking the food they all find the time to work some bodies shamba (a small farm) for food. A family with out a mama at the helm of domesticity falls apart. Baba's work, mainly. If a good baba is out of work then he is out either hustling (working many small jobs) or standing by his wife in the family shamba planting for his family. There is a difference between men and women in Kenya. Its all contained in one word: Polygamy. While it is on its way out both socially and legally there is still quite a lot of polygamy. I hear about it everyday, an old wife pushed aside by a much younger one. It isn't as common as all that but it does happen in places other than Tanzanian bongo flicks. The Kiddos, they are everywhere. If they are lucky the are going to school with a chance at a future. Not all children get to go to school. The educations public and free, but the parents must buy the uniforms. You want to meet some of the most grown up children on the planet you come to my village. A place where even the five year olds put a seat out for you because you are an elder. I was never so well behaved. Well, there is one area for improvement. This is for anyone planning to visit anywhere ever. DO NOT GIVE THE CHILDREN STUFF, and by stuff I mean, candy, pens, money, bicycles, fruits or anything you might just have in your hands. It doesn't help anyone, no not even the childern. Other than that they are the biggity bomb. I know several whose missions in life are to give me a high five. You can almost see the train of thought on the child's face. “Nitakupiga sana mzungu mkono.” Then the next thought occurs “Nipe parimende!!” As we all have heard this a million times I give a quick “sina parimende mtoto, pole sana, labda kesho.” or something like that. But before I tell the kid I don't have any candy and it occurs to the kiddo I might just have something to give them the only mission is to slap that hand and good!! Easily the best part of my day. I didn't even know I liked kids so much till I got here. In America I am always worried about conflicting the directives given by overprotective parents, here the community helps to raise children. They help look after socially acceptable behaviors and have the right to turn in mtoto mbaya to their parents. You can trust me when I say that is the last thing the child wants.

In other news:
Now is the time of Linux. I'm giving it a try, its not so bad. Music, finally after all this time.

This past weekend great get together and camping on the beach.

Next weekend, medical, and a little after that a LANGUAGE INTENSIVE. It will be a blast.

Tune in here for all your news dates coastal and Kenyan.

Oh ya, Amelia, Happy Birthday... I give a call if I can.

1 comment:

  1. You'll probably consider this a rude intusion. After all, you are minus a tooth and worthy of some consolation, even if the jerky was an ill-considered morsel. I have no idea if you are into it, as some of your compatrioys are, or just commiserating with yourself with a beach and mangoes nearby. What the hell are you doing there? Small business, yes; but have you a clue what you have to contribute? 21. EEE gahs, barely out of dia... well, I won't say it. You can imagine it. Get your head into a groove where you are going somewhere other than the choo. Write me if you wush. You will be assured of a response... entertaining if that's your frae of mind, but Ill be there to remind you, this is an opportunity which will only come around once. If you wile your time musing about Nebrask, or whereever, go back to the Nairobi Royale and contemplate your navel. But if grasping the chance of a lifetime, write a line and I'll encourage you to learn more idioms and make a new friend today. No, I'm not joking. Make the best of tomorrow... and let me know how it goes. RPCV (who survived more than 40 years ago and lived to tell.