Again I am writing this from Kipkarren, this time sitting in the gazebo right on the beautiful river I spoke of last time.  I was supposed to arrive here on Monday and spend the entire week, but my back went into full spasms right after the Monday morning run with the kids, leaving me incapable of almost anything except lying in bed trying to ignore the pain.  This was very frustrating because I was looking forward to spending the whole week here visiting AIDS patients in their homes and playing games with the kids.  The two days I spent in bed really drove home an important lesson, however, and so, despite the pain, I am thankful for the opportunity to learn.  About six years ago I had an operation on my back to repair a herniated disk between two of my vertebrae in my low back, and since then, though mostly feeling healthy, I know I am never far from the unpredictable episodes of severe back spasms that I have experienced about once per year.  Despite this, or maybe especially due to this, I have put a lot of stake, in my personal value assessment, in what I am able to do physically, but these episodes have served as reminders that this is neither accurate nor healthy.  So as I lay in bed, feeling helpless and useless, I again was reminded of this, but in a more profound way this time, I think due to being isolated and away from comforts of home.  Obviously I was not able to run with the kids during the week or partake in normal games time, but something very important happened during those few days – I was treated exactly the same by the kids and all the staff at the home and training center.  For the first time in my life, I didn’t feel like I had less value because I was somewhat incapacitated physically.  I have been trying to carry that with me this whole week, and will try to keep it with me throughout the remainder of my days on this planet.  I think we each do this in one way or another – we put our whole meaning in who we are as an athlete, father or mother, husband or wife, business person, etc. – and although some of these things may be commendable on their own, none of them is healthy or sustainable as someone’s entire worth.  They all have their ups and downs, and will all ultimately end at some point.  So I am learning what is and is not in my power to control, and how to use my energy accordingly.  If you want my opinion, the only thing worthy of putting our whole value in is God, because He ultimately promises us life beyond Earth and because He spans all things we could possibly find to put our value in on this planet.

The students greeting me at Simit Primary School.  This is following the initial rush of about 200 children with outstretched hands.  This is as close as I will ever come to feeling like a rock star, and I didn’t even do anything to deserve this kind of treatment.

Outside of all of that, things have been good in Kenya the past week.  I went out on another mission last Friday to the village of Simit, which is in the “hanging valley,” just below the cliff I was standing on in last entry, but still above the Kerio Valley.  We went there at the request of the officer of development for the district, who said that the area was falling apart due to the attitudes of the people and the degradation of the farming land.  I definitely saw evidence of the latter, as the fields and especially the beautiful hills were black from being burned endlessly.  The people had experienced decreasing crop production and severe water supply restriction, which is made worse by late arrival of the still-absent rainy season.  As with most villages I have visited, alcoholism is becoming more prevalent, especially among young people, and the education system is strained.  We visited the primary school, which has roughly 500 students for 8 teachers, and this is where I found out that I was the very first white American to visit this village.  Classes literally came to a halt when we arrived and all the students and teachers came out to observe the strange, pale creature that seemed to be visiting with the head master of the school.  About half the kids were too scared to actually approach me, but the other half swarmed me as soon as I put out my hand to greet them.  We had a nice visit with the head master and representatives from the village, although I am pretty sure I was being appealed to for financial sponsorship of their proposed secondary school.  We then headed back to the center for lunch and then led a meeting with maybe 100 of the village residents, in an effort to get them to work together and save life for future generations in their area.  I personally challenged them to use the understanding that they are the ones who have all the answers to their problems to start moving in the right direction.  I told them that I was very disappointed to see what has happened to their land, but that they are in control of what the land will be like in the future.  My main message to them was that they have an ample supply of their two greatest resources, land and people, but that both need to be nurtured in order to produce the way they were designed – “In the same way that you need to give the land what it needs to be healthy and able to support the crops you want it to grow, you need to cooperate with each other and all foster creativity and healthy habits in your children so they will have everything they need to produce for themselves and your village in the future.  Burning and using chemicals on your land, and cutting down trees on the hills is the same thing as fighting amongst yourselves, and ignoring education and vices such as alcoholism.  When I come back to visit, I really hope to see that you have chosen to cultivate positivity and sustainability in both your land and your people.”  Of course, I had a translator, so I’m sure he phrased it differently for them, but I think they got the overall message.

Some of the children performing a song and dance during “Guardian’s Day” last weekend.  This is the day, once per year, that their former guardians, usually distant relatives or siblings, come to visit the children.  It is one of the favorite days of the year for the children.

During my two visits so far to Kipkarren, I have been fortunate to have the opportunity to visit with a number of people living with AIDS, and, as one of the chief issues concerning poverty in Africa, I think it deserves some discussion.  After hearing about 20 stories, I have noticed some commonalities between them all, many of which speaking to its overwhelming presence and persistence here.  Every single story has contained the following: they knew about HIV and AIDS, but didn’t know much about how one could contract it; they suddenly became very ill and weak, but thought it was just a common sickness; they felt on the verge of death before someone took them to be tested; they felt depressed and considered suicide after testing positive (because all they knew about the disease was that it is fatal and has no cure); they were initially shunned by people in their community when they found out; they had no way to get the amount or kinds of food they were told they needed to stay healthy (they survive, I use the word survive intentionally, on basically corn, maybe rice and beans, and if they are lucky they will have milk and eggs available); and that they now feel healthy, thanks to the efforts of the staff at ELI.  Some of them have no idea to this day how they contracted it, others know and wish they would have known that what they were doing could lead to contraction, and a disturbing amount of the women know that they got it from their husbands, who were sleeping with other women and then brining the disease back into their home.  I have found that the society here, much the same as in Central America, is very patriarchal, meaning that the women are essentially around to give birth and take care of everything around the home, and the men are supposed to be working in the shamba (garden or farm) and providing for the family in any other way.  The sad part is that it is accepted that men will not be faithful to their wives, but that women must not be unfaithful to their husbands.  I asked a young man about this and he told me that probably 90% of men are unfaithful in their marriage.  This is not only demeaning to the women, in my opinion, but also very dangerous, as an overwhelming percentage of AIDS cases are contracted this way.  While trying not to insult the culture or individual men, I tell women that it seems quite unfair and irresponsible to me.  Most of them just shrug their shoulders and smile.

Kipkarren River, which is the water of life for people in this area.  In the past couple of hours, I have seen children playing and people bathing in it, as well as cows drinking from it.  It is beautiful in so many ways.

As I go back to Ilula this weekend, I am excited for a number of possible upcoming events.  First, I will be attending an engagement party tomorrow (Saturday), where I am looking forward most to witnessing the traditional negotiation over the number of cows that will be given by the groom’s family to the bride’s family.  This seems a bit strange to me, almost like buying a wife from a mail-order-bride catalog, but they tell me that it is their tradition and is a way of showing respect and thanks from one family to another.  It is kind of beautiful in a way.  After finding out how many cows are normally given – about 12, on average – I ruled myself out of being able to afford a Kenyan bride, much to the dismay of the entire female population in the country, I’m sure.  Fortunately, I will also get to attend the wedding the last weekend I am here, so I will get to witness the “exchanging of the cows” (for those of you who didn’t get my pun, I don’t blame you, and for those of you who did, I deeply apologize for thinking I am funny).  In addition to those events, I am also planning a short trip to Uganda to visit some friends working with the United Nations Development Program in Kampala.  I am so excited for this, as it will give me a chance to see what is being done at that level and learn from the expertise of people much more familiar with the issues and solutions I am trying to get involved in.  Yesterday I received an email from a good friend and supporter in Seattle, saying he wants to try to make it over here to visit me and see the work being done.  I am so excited to see Greg and have his help in analyzing the situation here.  His family is who visited me in Belize, so I think I am going to rename my journey, “Greg and Jeff’s Excellent Adventure” (again, I apologize).

Me with some of the students at Simit Primary School.  I walked in their classroom on my way out and their teacher was gone, so we decided to have a little fun.

It’s hard for me to believe that I am about half way through my time in Ilula already; it seems like just last week I was writing that I couldn’t believe I was half way through my time in Belize.  I guess age does really make time go faster.  Thank you all for your support and attention to what I am doing.  If you have any input or thoughts on what I write about, please leave a comment or send me an email at jbates@eracepoverty.org.  The more input I have, the better I will process and understand everything.  Otherwise, be good to yourselves and those around you, and give some thought to what you put your value in, and how reliable it is.

Again I am writing this from Kipkarren, this time sitting in the gazebo right on the beautiful river I spoke of last time.  I was supposed to arrive here on Monday and spend the entire week, but my back went into full spasms right after the Monday morning run with the kids, leaving me incapable of almost anything except lying in bed trying to ignore the pain.  This was very frustrating because I was looking forward to spending the whole week here visiting AIDS patients in their homes and playing games with the kids.  The two days I spent in bed really drove home an important lesson, however, and so, despite the pain, I am thankful for the opportunity to learn.  About six years ago I had an operation on my back to repair a herniated disk between two of my vertebrae in my low back, and since then, though mostly feeling healthy, I know I am never far from the unpredictable episodes of severe back spasms that I have experienced about once per year.  Despite this, or maybe especially due to this, I have put a lot of stake, in my personal value assessment, in what I am able to do physically, but these episodes have served as reminders that this is neither accurate nor healthy.  So as I lay in bed, feeling helpless and useless, I again was reminded of this, but in a more profound way this time, I think due to being isolated and away from comforts of home.  Obviously I was not able to run with the kids during the week or partake in normal games time, but something very important happened during those few days – I was treated exactly the same by the kids and all the staff at the home and training center.  For the first time in my life, I didn’t feel like I had less value because I was somewhat incapacitated physically.  I have been trying to carry that with me this whole week, and will try to keep it with me throughout the remainder of my days on this planet.  I think we each do this in one way or another – we put our whole meaning in who we are as an athlete, father or mother, husband or wife, business person, etc. – and although some of these things may be commendable on their own, none of them is healthy or sustainable as someone’s entire worth.  They all have their ups and downs, and will all ultimately end at some point.  So I am learning what is and is not in my power to control, and how to use my energy accordingly.  If you want my opinion, the only thing worthy of putting our whole value in is God, because He ultimately promises us life beyond Earth and because He spans all things we could possibly find to put our value in on this planet.

The students greeting me at Simit Primary School.  This is following the initial rush of about 200 children with outstretched hands.  This is as close as I will ever come to feeling like a rock star, and I didn’t even do anything to deserve this kind of treatment.

Outside of all of that, things have been good in Kenya the past week.  I went out on another mission last Friday to the village of Simit, which is in the “hanging valley,” just below the cliff I was standing on in last entry, but still above the Kerio Valley.  We went there at the request of the officer of development for the district, who said that the area was falling apart due to the attitudes of the people and the degradation of the farming land.  I definitely saw evidence of the latter, as the fields and especially the beautiful hills were black from being burned endlessly.  The people had experienced decreasing crop production and severe water supply restriction, which is made worse by late arrival of the still-absent rainy season.  As with most villages I have visited, alcoholism is becoming more prevalent, especially among young people, and the education system is strained.  We visited the primary school, which has roughly 500 students for 8 teachers, and this is where I found out that I was the very first white American to visit this village.  Classes literally came to a halt when we arrived and all the students and teachers came out to observe the strange, pale creature that seemed to be visiting with the head master of the school.  About half the kids were too scared to actually approach me, but the other half swarmed me as soon as I put out my hand to greet them.  We had a nice visit with the head master and representatives from the village, although I am pretty sure I was being appealed to for financial sponsorship of their proposed secondary school.  We then headed back to the center for lunch and then led a meeting with maybe 100 of the village residents, in an effort to get them to work together and save life for future generations in their area.  I personally challenged them to use the understanding that they are the ones who have all the answers to their problems to start moving in the right direction.  I told them that I was very disappointed to see what has happened to their land, but that they are in control of what the land will be like in the future.  My main message to them was that they have an ample supply of their two greatest resources, land and people, but that both need to be nurtured in order to produce the way they were designed – “In the same way that you need to give the land what it needs to be healthy and able to support the crops you want it to grow, you need to cooperate with each other and all foster creativity and healthy habits in your children so they will have everything they need to produce for themselves and your village in the future.  Burning and using chemicals on your land, and cutting down trees on the hills is the same thing as fighting amongst yourselves, and ignoring education and vices such as alcoholism.  When I come back to visit, I really hope to see that you have chosen to cultivate positivity and sustainability in both your land and your people.”  Of course, I had a translator, so I’m sure he phrased it differently for them, but I think they got the overall message.

Some of the children performing a song and dance during “Guardian’s Day” last weekend.  This is the day, once per year, that their former guardians, usually distant relatives or siblings, come to visit the children.  It is one of the favorite days of the year for the children.

During my two visits so far to Kipkarren, I have been fortunate to have the opportunity to visit with a number of people living with AIDS, and, as one of the chief issues concerning poverty in Africa, I think it deserves some discussion.  After hearing about 20 stories, I have noticed some commonalities between them all, many of which speaking to its overwhelming presence and persistence here.  Every single story has contained the following: they knew about HIV and AIDS, but didn’t know much about how one could contract it; they suddenly became very ill and weak, but thought it was just a common sickness; they felt on the verge of death before someone took them to be tested; they felt depressed and considered suicide after testing positive (because all they knew about the disease was that it is fatal and has no cure); they were initially shunned by people in their community when they found out; they had no way to get the amount or kinds of food they were told they needed to stay healthy (they survive, I use the word survive intentionally, on basically corn, maybe rice and beans, and if they are lucky they will have milk and eggs available); and that they now feel healthy, thanks to the efforts of the staff at ELI.  Some of them have no idea to this day how they contracted it, others know and wish they would have known that what they were doing could lead to contraction, and a disturbing amount of the women know that they got it from their husbands, who were sleeping with other women and then brining the disease back into their home.  I have found that the society here, much the same as in Central America, is very patriarchal, meaning that the women are essentially around to give birth and take care of everything around the home, and the men are supposed to be working in the shamba (garden or farm) and providing for the family in any other way.  The sad part is that it is accepted that men will not be faithful to their wives, but that women must not be unfaithful to their husbands.  I asked a young man about this and he told me that probably 90% of men are unfaithful in their marriage.  This is not only demeaning to the women, in my opinion, but also very dangerous, as an overwhelming percentage of AIDS cases are contracted this way.  While trying not to insult the culture or individual men, I tell women that it seems quite unfair and irresponsible to me.  Most of them just shrug their shoulders and smile.

Kipkarren River, which is the water of life for people in this area.  In the past couple of hours, I have seen children playing and people bathing in it, as well as cows drinking from it.  It is beautiful in so many ways.

As I go back to Ilula this weekend, I am excited for a number of possible upcoming events.  First, I will be attending an engagement party tomorrow (Saturday), where I am looking forward most to witnessing the traditional negotiation over the number of cows that will be given by the groom’s family to the bride’s family.  This seems a bit strange to me, almost like buying a wife from a mail-order-bride catalog, but they tell me that it is their tradition and is a way of showing respect and thanks from one family to another.  It is kind of beautiful in a way.  After finding out how many cows are normally given – about 12, on average – I ruled myself out of being able to afford a Kenyan bride, much to the dismay of the entire female population in the country, I’m sure.  Fortunately, I will also get to attend the wedding the last weekend I am here, so I will get to witness the “exchanging of the cows” (for those of you who didn’t get my pun, I don’t blame you, and for those of you who did, I deeply apologize for thinking I am funny).  In addition to those events, I am also planning a short trip to Uganda to visit some friends working with the United Nations Development Program in Kampala.  I am so excited for this, as it will give me a chance to see what is being done at that level and learn from the expertise of people much more familiar with the issues and solutions I am trying to get involved in.  Yesterday I received an email from a good friend and supporter in Seattle, saying he wants to try to make it over here to visit me and see the work being done.  I am so excited to see Greg and have his help in analyzing the situation here.  His family is who visited me in Belize, so I think I am going to rename my journey, “Greg and Jeff’s Excellent Adventure” (again, I apologize).

Me with some of the students at Simit Primary School.  I walked in their classroom on my way out and their teacher was gone, so we decided to have a little fun.

It’s hard for me to believe that I am about half way through my time in Ilula already; it seems like just last week I was writing that I couldn’t believe I was half way through my time in Belize.  I guess age does really make time go faster.  Thank you all for your support and attention to what I am doing.  If you have any input or thoughts on what I write about, please leave a comment or send me an email at jbates@eracepoverty.org.  The more input I have, the better I will process and understand everything.  Otherwise, be good to yourselves and those around you, and give some thought to what you put your value in, and how reliable it is.

While writing this, I am sitting in my luxurious room on the property of the ELI Training Center in Kipkarren, looking out the window at a beautiful river winding through the Kenyan countryside.  I am here for a few days this week to get involved in and learn about their programs, mainly their health clinic, HIV/AIDS outreach, home health care, and sustainable agriculture training school.  Of course, my down time between those programs will be spent at the children’s home and school that are also on the property.  Yesterday evening, after being welcomed here and visiting with everyone involved in the programs I just mentioned, I stopped in at the school and then shared devotions with the children at the home.  They had so many questions for me, mostly pertaining to my marital status, family structure, education level, employment experience, and personal familiarity with Barack Obama.

My attempt to get the kids into organized and evenly spaced lines during the after school training program.  You can see some of the kids trying, and some simply not paying attention.

This morning I went out into the community with a couple of the HIV outreach staff to visit some of the people they work with.  This was very interesting for me because I have never even known someone who was infected with HIV, let alone tried to reach out to them and listen to their story while in a foreign culture.  Most of the children at the homed here and in Ilula have lost their parents to AIDS, so I feel this experience was important for me to understand, in a very small way, what they have dealt with in respect to the disease and how it affects not only an individual life, but also the lives of everyone around the infected individual.  I ended up visiting one woman with AIDS and one woman with very aggressive stomach cancer, and had a chance to hear their stories and ask them questions.  Hearing about the suffering each of them has gone through, and is still continually experiencing, was very difficult, but I had to maintain a positive attitude and tone as I listened to them and asked them very tough questions.  They each have children that have had to come to terms with the fact that they will lose their mother to their respective diseases at any time, which is something I don’t think I could handle at their young ages.  The woman with AIDS, who was constantly misdiagnosed with the common flu for eleven years before even being given an HIV test, is now living a healthy life, after being on the verge of death multiple times.  As we sat together in her small mud hut surrounded by swarming flies, she told me she even seriously considered poisoning herself and her children to death to escape the devastating combination of a serious disease and extreme poverty.  Now she lives what she calls a normal life and her children both attend school, which is something she never considered a possibility before becoming involved in the ELI program just three years ago.  The woman with stomach cancer is not fairing so well.  After having her tumor removed in 2003, it has come back and destructively spread to the point of inoperability, leaving her with little to do but suffer the pain.  She walked gingerly out of her hut to greet us, and I was immediately struck by her very thin limbs and extremely swollen stomach. She was visibly in a lot of pain as she told me that she has five children in school, but is too weak to leave her home, so the only time she gets to see them is if they make the journey home.  As you can imagine, sitting with these women and hearing their inconceivable stories was not easy, but there was one encouraging commonality between them: they both find hope and optimism in their faith.  They each told me that God has been gracious to them and has provided for their needs, even when no doctor could or would.  When they told me that, they smiled their only smile of our visit.

Emanuel, Victoria, and I enjoying some time together during evening chai.  They are some of the cutest and funniest kids I have ever met, and they just love playing with my hair now that it is no longer braided.

The past week has offered anything but the standard daily schedule I wrote about last time.  I have continued running in the mornings with the children and a few men from the community, and I am happy to report that the school children are progressing in their ability to stay organized and focused in the after school training.  They are now able to organize themselves in their lines somewhat quickly and nearly complete the entire warm up in the allotted 45 minutes we have together.  I am very excited to see what we can do after 7 more weeks of practice.  I went out on another mission over the weekend, where we visited the home church and village of one of the recovered alcoholics from the program at the Ilula training center.  It was so nice to see him again and meet his family and friends in his community, and he even brought along one of his former drinking buddies, who decided to put down the bottle and pick up a bible that morning.  Seeing how God can work through people in any situation has been one of the most impressing experiences in Kenya to this point.  The resiliency and the social nature of Kenya people is something I would like to see in more groups of people around the world.  It is quite impressive, and I have been very complimentary of it in an effort to make sure they understand how amazing they are. I also spent a day in Eldoret, the town that I am certain will soon swallow Ilula in its rapid and unyielding expansion.  After being there for just 8 hours, I was so happy to be spending my 10 weeks in Ilula, rather than in the town itself.  Following five years of living in Los Angeles and a short time in New York City, I felt that I would be prepared to handle any busy, crowded city, let alone one with a fraction of the population.  Eldoret proved that arrogant self-assessment to be far from true.  There are something like 800,000 people in a town built for 150,000, and with literally no room for expansion within the configuration of the town.  I was sure, while dodging the hundreds of huge trucks emitting disgusting amounts of toxic black exhaust, that we were going to run over at least one of the thousands of people who were walking, riding bicycles and motorbikes, and pushing their carts full of second-hand U.S. merchandise.  It was dirty and suffocating, and all around unappealing to me.  I am convinced that I was witnessing the result of American-style development without American-grade resources or funding.  There has to be a better way, and it needs to be introduced to these people soon.

Standing on the edge of a cliff right behind the church we visited on Saturday, overlooking the Kerio Valley.  The cliff is at an elevation of roughly 8,500 feet, and about one meter behind me is a drop of 7,000 feet.  I don’t know that I have ever seen such a huge valley.

In complete opposition to Eldoret was what I witnessed on Saturday, when I went to Lake Bogoria.  This national park and game reserve is as close as I have seen to my own stereotype of Africa since arriving in the country.  It is a savannah with endless Acacia trees filled with baboons, monkeys, and many species of exotic birds, and also with a monstrous saltwater lake full of thousands of bright pink flamingos.  As if all that weren’t enough to keep me entertained, there are also a number of hot spring geysers surrounding the lake.  The park, which is encased beautifully by flat-top mountains, is also home to such animals as zebras, ostriches, wart hogs, various species of gazelles, buffalo, and snakes, including cobras and mambas (unfortunately I did not see any snakes).  This is the first time I had seen any of these animals in their natural habitat, so I reacted excitedly and whipped out my camera each time I saw one, while Joel, the Kenyan who was driving, sat and twiddled his thumbs.  Sometimes I love playing the tourist role.

The moon rising over the training center in Ilula.  This is a nightly occurrence that I will never take for granted because it is so beautiful.  My hut is the one tucked away on the far right.

I realized through the last week that I personally thrive under circumstances that offer a lot of variation and adventure, with some uncertainty day to day.  Especially on this journey, where my goal is to experience as much of the way of life as possible in each place I go, I feel wasteful if I spend a couple weeks doing the same thing each day.  With that said, if I am to do the same thing each day, I am happy that it is spending time with the children at the children’s home.  I don’t know that I could ever grow tired of playing games, sharing meals and devotions, and doing homework with them.  If any of you are having a bad day, no matter how bad it is, get on a flight to Kenya and visit a primary school.  I challenge you to do so and not smile and feel really good about yourself and the world.  Spending this week in Kipkarren, and maybe next week as well, gives me peace that I am gaining a better understanding of life in Kenya.  I also have another mission in the Kario Valley on Friday, guardian’s day at the Ilula children’s home on Saturday, and an engagement party next Saturday.  All of this will offer the variation of exciting experiences that I need to stay focused.  I still feel myself wearing down a little bit as a result of 6 months straight of being away from home in very intense conditions, so I need to find ways to stay focused and actively engaged during the remaining three months.  Africa is such an interesting and diverse place, so I don’t think staying engaged will be a difficult task.  This place has so much to teach me, and I will not allow any of it to escape me.  Thank you for your support and prayers; you all keep me going more than you know, even with just a simple email giving me an update on yourself or checking in on me.  Be good to yourself and those around you, and I hope to hear from you soon.