Habari Muzungu?!

What's the news white traveler? Well, I figured you were all wondering that. And apparently the man who asked me that at the market was too.
Typically you say "Habari ya asubuhi?" or "Habari ya mchana?" What's the news this morning/afternoon. But I guess what's the news white traveler works too.
My favorite part of being called a muzungu is that people think I don't know it. Well I do, you can pick up that word from a mile away. In Swahili, nouns are pluralized by the prefix, so mwanafunzi means student and dropping the m for wanafunzi means students. So we like to call ourselves wazungus, and people usually get a kick out of that :)

On Monday, a week ago, we took a field trip to a few schools in the area. One was an informal school that is not funded by anyone but all volunteer run. Its exactly as you'd picture an informal school, with tin walls and roof, a concrete slab 12' square for a floor and anywhere from 3-6 students sitting on bench like desks. 20-40 kids per classroom, though I had classes in Minneapolis that ran upwards of 45 students. And volunteer run means inconsistent teachers and teaching styles, but the children still take the national exams that every other student takes.

Then we went to a school in Ngong, a town in the middle of Maasai land. The community had built about 12 classrooms from concrete block and tin roofs keep the rain (what rain? right) and sun from the learning environment. This school has no electricity, but they do have water. We were there over lunch break, but not a single child was eating lunch. They all walk to school and for most it is too far to return for a noon-time meal, and they do not bring lunches- for reasons I do not know. When we (3 students and our professor) got out of the van there, the students swarmed us, little 5 and 7 year olds, and all grabbed our hands and touched our skin. While we stood and talked to teachers the students would come and lean against us, and one played with Doug's elbow for about 10 minutes. The government provides I think 8 teachers and the parents fund the rest- about 4.

We continued on to a high-tuition public school in Nairobi. This school was typically reserved for more affluent families, but with the introduction of Universal Primary Education in Kenya in 2003, they now open their doors to all and the school has become much more diversified. Now, you ask what a high-tuition PUBLIC school is? Well I'm not sure. Our professor isn't exactly good at answering questions. In fact today, I asked him if there was any provincial funding for schools- you know, a basic yes or no/short answer question, and it took him 27, yep 27!, minutes to answer that. He talked the entire time and none of the 3 of us got in a word. He likes to give long-winded answers, that cover things he talked about multiple times before. Lets just say I wouldn't say stellar things on ratemyprofessor.com about this guy.

Well enough of that. I had a very "this is Africa" night last night. At about 8pm I decided to walk to our local kiosk, literally a stone's throw away from our security gate. As I left, Tracy, my 6-year-0ld host sister decided to come too. We passed through our yard and walked in our dimly lit courtyard. As I contemplated stepping over a puddle, suddenly, the puddle jumped to life and I almost tripped over the stray dog that had been laying there all evening. Then we passed through our security gate. And as we walked between the two cinder block walls that run alongside the driveway a cat matched our pace upon the top of the wall. All the while I'm hoping the thing doesn't jump on/at me or Tracy, wouldn't a cat bite in Kenya be fun?
We reach the kiosk and Mike the owner invites us in to sit. I know Mike just from stopping there every day, he's a nice guy and asks me everyday "How do you find Kenya?"
So last night I said "mzuri sana", (or very good), I told him I traveled to maasai mara and then we talked a little bit about Obama. Then out of nowhere comes the Christian cannons: "how is christianity in america?" "do you read the bible everyday?" "is Jesus your personal savior?"

All of this in a stop for a candy bar. A lot of people in Kenya think Christianity in America is like the Joel Ostein (is that his name?), TV pastor, who preaches to congregations of 10,000 plus- because they broadcast it here all the time.
Also, I feel like people try to prove to me they are Christian. Now I don't know why this happens, but it happens often.

On the walk back from the kiosk I was holding Tracy's hand and a man coming toward us veered in our direction. I don't like having to be on my toes at every moment, and the reality is that Jamhuri is a safe neighborhood and lots of people were out, but anyone veering toward me is a little nerve wracking. I'm thinking, 'I've got 100 bob, a cell phone, and a 6-year-old' and I'm hoping this guy isn't interested in any of them. He stops right next to us as we pass, and turns his head to watch us walk away. That's it. It's just weird interactions like this that bring the TIA feeling. And we went right home to watch Tusker Project Fame Season 3 Finale- Alpha won, by the way, I'm sure you were wondering ;)
(also note 100 b0b is about $1.30.)

That's all I have time for now. We had a great weekend in Nairobi- went to the Westlands- a totally Americanized richer night club area, but the dancing was good and I mean, who doesn't love hearing Top 40 hits over and over until 3am. Though the presence of older white men and younger african women together is a little unsettling- business as usual I guess (this is an observation many of us have had, but I think its a little deep to get into now. we all know it happens, and it happens for different reasons-none of which I can personally explain.)

Great weekend though- I went all around the city with Eda, our househelp, on Sunday to go shopping. And I bought a Chiapati pan, my absolute favorite flatbread here- now I just have to learn how to make it.

Sawa sawa! (basically ok ok, we say it all the time though ;)