"You are Walking on Soil Where Your Ancesters Are Sleeping"

I'm reading too many books right now. I'm at that point where I'm generally interested in three separate books, but haven't really sat down to finish one.

I'm reading E. Kezilahabi's Dunia Uwanja wa Fujo (The World is a Chaotic Place) and really think that this author needs to be translated into English. It's that good. (Incidentally, he got a graduate degree from the University of Wisconsin-Madison.)

I've read Rosa Mistika (a girl's name) and was quite impressed by it. Today, I came across this paragraph in Dunia and just really wanted to share it.

A mother, ill and dying, is giving her final farewell to her teenage son, who now stands to inherit a good deal of money and the family wealth all on his own. She worries about his judgment and his ability to handle the responsibilities that now await him. She gives three pieces of advice.

First, she says, don't marry for beauty. Marry a woman who has good behavior. Second, be careful with the money that you inherit.

It's her third point that I want to share:

Jambo la tatu na la mwisho ni hili. Tukumbuke sisi wazazi wako. Kumbuka unatembea juu ya udongo ambamo ndani mwake wahenga wamelala. Kwa muda wote utakaokanyaga undongo huu, tukumbuke kwa kila tendo utendalo, kwani matendo mabaya huwachukiza wazima na wafu.

The third and final thing is this. Remember us, your parents. Remember you are walking on soil inside of which the ancestors are sleeping. For the whole time you step on this soil, remember us in everything you do, after all, bad actions cause hatred among the living and the dead.

"You are walking on soil where the ancestors are sleeping." Few people really stop to think about this. That millions of people have come before us and when their time ends, they are gone. We inherit the earth from them. And, with our every step, we should remember those who came before us.

It is the hope of the dying and, to the living in this day and age, sounds more like sappy poetry...

Five Days of Earthquakes?

Nationmedia.com | Daily Nation | NEWS | Tremors shake the country again: "Earth tremors shook several parts of the country intermittently for the fourth consecutive day yesterday as local experts conceded that they were yet to gather enough data on the unusual occurrence."

Originally I was going to comment on this story to say that I cannot believe that there have been earthquakes here for four days and I never felt any of them!

Then, while I was writing that last post, the ground started shaking under my feet and my desk started shaking too. I heard a low rumbling sound and it hit me! My First Earthquake!

Others were reported as being less than excited about their earthquake experience:

“From midnight, we had a restless night after the first tremor. We had all moved out of our five storey building with our belongings and entered into our vehicles prepared to leave,” a resident of Parklands Aqilah Kauser said.

The VP Offers Insight Bure

Nationmedia.com | Daily Nation | NEWS | Sh80m survey to gather data on the disabled launched: "The Vice-President, Mr Moody Awori, who officially launched the exercise at Bontana Hotel in Nakuru, said many of the disabled cases had not been able to fully take advantage of the free education because they lack hearing devices." (emphasis mine)

Now, in case you ever become vice president and find yourself talking about "disability," I thought I would give you all some pointers so you don't a) seem unaware of the issues and b) annoy people who are.

1. Not all disabled people are deaf or hard-of-hearing. I'm not even sure it's fair to say that most are. The fact that no one really knows roughly how many disabled people there are, let alone deaf vs. non-deaf, makes this an important study.

[Update: I'm not exactly sure if Awori means to imply that most of the "disabled cases" are deaf students or if most of the "disabled cases" that have failed to take advantage of the free education are deaf students. I'm skeptical on both claims.]

2. Not all deaf/hard-of-hearing people benefit from "hearing devices." People become deaf for different reasons. Some deaf can benefit from receiving amplified sound, others benefit from receiving electrical impulses to auditory nerves inside the cochlea. Others are just plain deaf.

3. Even those who benefit from devices like cochlear implants or hearing aids (see links above) will likely still need to learn a signed language (in Kenya's case, KSL). Sticking a deaf kid with a hearing aid in a hearing classroom will definitely boost attendance of deaf children in schools, but brings with it a whole host of problems.

4. Deaf kids aren't benefiting as much as their hearing counterparts from the government's free primary education because.... the deaf schools (residential programs) are not free! The government program does not cover boarding schools.

And, on this point, I'd like us all pause for a brief Swahili lesson: bure.

This word conveys two different concepts.

Concept #1: Serikali hii imesaidia wananchi kwa kuanzisha elimu bure kwa shule za msingi.

English Translation: This government has helped the citizens by starting free primary education.

Meaning of Bure: Free


Concept #2: Ubaya wake, lakini, ni kwamba hii elimu ni bure!

English Translation: The bad thing about it, though, is that this education is useless!

Meaning of Bure: Useless


I like that bure means both of those things. It takes you down the same path as "There's no such thing as a free lunch." If it is free, it's probably useless.

Seeing free primary education in a hearing school with 1,500 students and 20 teachers, I saw elimu bure.

For many deaf children, the government's promise of elimu bure has been just that, elimu bure.

[Update 2: It occurs to me that I say "useless education" when what I really mean is useless "free education."]

[Update 3: A nod to Kyle for the advice on making the distinction between "sign language" and "signed languages." There is no one "sign language", there are different "signed languages" that share features as a result of being signed and not spoken. To wit, saying "speech language" implies it is one, "spoken languages" acknowledges there are many.]

More Videos From Josh

Josh is continuing to post videos to YouTube. He says he is now "hooked." I'll take his word for it. He's posting videos here. Keep an eye on his useful and rather humorous descriptions for his videos. On "Jomo Kenyatta... and his International Conference Center":

Here is a poorly filmed peek at the Jomo Kenyatta International Conference Center in downtown Nairobi. Jomo Kenyatta was Kenya's first president (1964-1978). The guy's on their paper money. The airport I flew into is Jomo Kenyatta International Airport. To make an American comparison, he's like Reagan on steroids over there.

Now, to be honest, I haven't viewed most of these videos because my internet connection is a little bit less than good.

Just a couple hours ago I did a test of my internet connection. This was the result:




Update: I tried again. This time I got a whopping 62kbps! I went ahead and opened all of the videos... Pretty good stuff. I also took another look at the KSL video. Must have been a bit nervous because I'm signing fast.

KSL on Mount Longonot

This is a video of me signing in Kenyan Sign Language about Mount Longonot, Naivasha, and the Great Rift Valley. We filmed this at the top of Mount Longonot, after a tiring climb.



Special thanks to Josh for putting this together and uploading it to YouTube. Most of my friends haven't really seen me sign, and most of the world hasn't seen KSL. I am not a Kenyan, nor is KSL my first language, so this isn't quite a perfect representation, but it's something.

Right now, there's no audio that goes along with it, which means those of you who don't know KSL are missing out. (I think that's about 90% of my readers.)

We also filmed versions of me speaking in English and Swahili. It's essentially the same message, though I could never quite remember all the details from one take to the next. Unfortunately the audio didn't quite work out due to all the wind.

Josh might be able to play around with the audio file to make it more audible, but I'm afraid that's too much work. I might try to record an audio file that we could dub over the video, one version in English, another in Swahili. Or I might just write up a brief note about what I've signed. What would you want to see? Add a comment or send me an email...

The Millipede And The Snake

Guest Post: Josh Goller

The last week of May, I was fortunate enough to spend a week with Kevin and Halako at their home in Nairobi. Leading up to the trip, I'd dubbed the journey as the "opportunity of a lifetime" to friends, family and colleagues as I couldn't fathom how I'd manage to get to that part of the world otherwise.

Indeed, the week was packed full of new experiences. Eating fish with my hands in a tiny restaurant/shack, cramming aboard crowded matatus, negotiating prices with local artists at a street market, seeing African wildlife, relaxing in serene gardens and memorials. Throw in the climb of Mt Longonot and I had an experience both eye-opening and awe-inspiring. However, upon returning to the United States I was overcome with the realization that it was the little things that really left an impact on me. The day-to-day things.

Kevin and I engaged in many long-winded discussions throughout the week, but a recurring theme was that of "functionality." Kenyans differ from Americans in many ways, but one of the greatest is that in Kenyan culture, whether an item is functional is the biggest factor in determining an object's worth. Clearly, much of American culture tends to bypass functionality as a given and jumps right to style, luxury, and status as premier criteria of worth.

Kevin pointed out that Kenyans crave style, luxury and status as well, but in a nation as young as Kenya, these simply aren't always possible. It should come as no surprise that the things we take for granted in America aren't always a given in Kenya.

I have no savings, plenty of debt from student loans and credit cards, and this laptop on which I type is probably the most valuable thing I own. Yet, as an American tourist gallivanting around Nairobi, I felt as rich as Croesus. Kevin's standard of living is higher than the average Kenyan, however I was amazed that he could exist so comfortably without a refrigerator. Having just moved into an apartment with in-unit washer and dryer, I was confounded by the amount of time it takes to wash clothes by hand. When we hiked through pasture-land at the base of Mt Longonot, we encountered children in the midst of a three mile trek just to get fresh water. Daily living simply takes more work in Kenya.

Before I left for my trip, someone told me that traveling to Kenya would "make you count your blessings that you live in America" and to a certain extent I did. Upon my return, I reveled in washing a week's load of dirty laundry at the push of a button, and getting back to my routine of work, entertainment, and recreational softball leagues. But more than counting my blessings, I found myself questioning where the exact line lies between luxury and excess.

Clearly, Kenyans are a happy people. Kevin joked with complete strangers at a restaurant as if they were close friends. In situations where Americans would be icy and stand-offish, Kenyans are vibrant and outgoing. So to what degree do all these perks, these appliances, which one cannot argue aid in functionality, improve one's life? Do these gadgets and gizmos that shave hours off household chores and other domestic duties really just free up a lot more time to worry and fuss about existential crises?

Most Americans don't need to spend an entire Saturday washing clothes or walking three miles for drinking water. But does this make us happier? Are all these machines that do our daily chores for us really a blessing? Without having to sweat to get things done, I'm left with all this extra time and often I fill it with activities that, in the end, are probably harmful to me. Would some of my anxiety and subsequent time-killing behaviors be alleviated if I had to bust my hump a bit more just to get by?

Halako told me an old Kenyan parable, which I will paraphrase (probably poorly) here:

Long ago, when snakes had legs and millipedes had eyes, a snake came across a millipede. The snake coveted the millipedes' eyes and offered to trade his legs for them. As a result, the millipede was left with extra legs and the snake had to slither on his belly in the dust but he could see. Since that time, the millipede has been walking around, trying to feel where the snake is, and the snake is sliding around looking for the millipede so he can get his legs back.

I don't know if there's any moral to this story, or if its simply myth, but I can make the shaky comparison between Kenyans as the snake and Americans as the millipede. Kenyans don't have as many means and have to endure the dirt and dust, but at least they can see what really matters. Americans have plenty of means, but too often are blind to the path to a happy and fulfilling existence.


Is either the snake or the millipede better off than the other? I'm not really in a position to say, but as a millipede, I must admit I enjoyed the chance to live as a snake for the week.

It's Funny Because It's True

Thinking about coming to Kenya, but not exactly sure if you want to commit the time or financial resources? Consider this video... Next thing you know, you'll be on a plane out here.....

Update: Where are my manners? Thanks to RPCV Hester D. for the heads-up...