Where do I even begin? It’s been exactly three weeks since I left Omaha, Nebraska for Loitokitok, Kenya, but I feel like it’s been at least 3 months because so much has happened and I’m learning so much.

After almost 3 weeks of daily four hour Kiswahili lessons, I feel confident enough to hold a general conversation with a Kenyan using the proper verb tenses. Our classes are all in Kiswahili now- no more Kingereza (English) I’m glad I didn’t have enough time to fall out of the learning mindset from college because I’ve had to study so much here. Luckily, I have 6 more weeks of intensive training before I go to my site. And I didn’t even need Rosetta Stone.

I am staying at a wonderful house and have two younger sisters. Sindo is 9 and Esther is 2 ½. They are fascinated with everything I do and have and enjoy laughing at my poor Kiswahili. Dinner every night is always an experience, but I’m gradually learning what to expect- rice, chapati bread, potatoes, cabbage, kale, spinach, ugali (flour and water mashed together, yeah), and beans, all of which are fried and lathered with either sunflower oil or Blue Band, aka lard. That is pretty much it in terms of variety- this is the Kenyan staple diet. Of course this is always washed down with chai at least 3 times a day. I’ve had copious amounts of fresh bananas, watermelon, giant avocados as big as an eggplant, and oranges, which are actually green and not orange at all.

We watch a lot of television, and the only things we watch are WWE wrestling, cheesy Kenyan soap operas, and worship music videos, which are as bizarre as they sound.

Certain things have proved to be a bit difficult- things that you don’t think twice about in America. No running water means not having a sink in the house- and we use sinks in America more than we think. You actually have to put in thought when you want to wash your hands, brush your teeth, and dump water out- especially when it’s after dark and you can’t go outside. Needless to say, I do a lot of improvising. And microwaves were so helpful in heating things up- much handier than firing up a charcoal jiko pot. No trash disposal means that whatever trash you have, you must burn- and yes, this smells horrible. When they asked me if I’ve ever mopped a floor I said of course. I of course didn’t realize they meant daily with a rag on my hands and knees.

At this point, my biggest fear is that I will get rabies- no joke. We’ve had so many medical sessions telling of the woes of malaria, schistosomiasis, constant diarrhea, snakebites, worms, and so many other viral and bacterial infections, but hands down, the effects of rabies are the things I’m most scared about. If you want to have nightmares for at least a week, look up what happens to a person when they contract the fatal form of rabies, which is conveniently the form found in Kenya. Awesome.

Skills that are now important to me:

Repeating “I am fine” as fast as I can: When the Kenyan children see us walking, they have one common response: screaming “HOW ARE YOU” over and over, and chasing you. Sometimes they even coordinate their “HOW ARE YOU’s” and then they begin chanting it together, which really makes it easy to subtly walk down the street. The thing is, “How are you,” “I am fine,” and “Give me your money,” are literally the only phrases in English they know, so if you respond with anything other than “I am fine,” they have absolutely no idea what you are saying. Also, these children are most likely wearing Obama hats with the Kenyan flag, which are extremely popular accessories for children. Let me know if you want me to get you one.

Conserving power and battery life on everything- Just because someone has electricity, doesn’t mean that it is an endless supply, which is something unheard of in America. I have changed the settings on everything to be in super power saver mode, and I still probably use more energy than five Kenyan families.

Having good aim- This is definitely something I have never had to worry about. I am surprisingly horrible at this skill (as are all girls, I think) so this is something I’ve had to work a lot on. If you are not aware of what I am talking about, you probably have never heard of a cho. A 6 x 4 inch rectangular hole in the ground is the Kenyan definition of a toilet. I will not go into details, but this is easily the biggest thing I had to get over/accept when I came here.

Bucket bathing- I’ve taken on the challenge of trying to reduce (kupunguza) the amount of water used during a bucket bath. Due to my mind-blowing efficiency, I’m down to 4 liters of boiling hot water a day. And the definition of a bucket bath is pretty much how it sounds.

High altitude lungs- My Mama showed me a path I am allowed to run on, and this path conveniently leads to the slopes of Mount Kilamanjaro. Back home, I would have considered this path a mountain climb, but here, the definition of a mountain has become relative.

You would think going at 6 A.M. would ensure me being the only one outside and not causing the scene, but this is not the case. Unfortunately, my running coincides with the 6:30 A.M. tardy bell for all of the area primary schools. Groups of school children literally stop and stare at me as, and I am certain that my presence alone has made kids late for school because they can’t fathom seeing someone running, let alone an American.

Also some common things I encounter on my runs: Almost getting crushed by piki pikis (motorcycles) that come out of nowhere, Masaii warriors taking a morning stroll, giant mounds of donkey crap, herds of goats that try to jump out in front of me, and flocks of roosters that may actually start chasing me- all of this with the sunrise and Kilamanjaro in the background, no big deal.

Turning down marriage proposals: I’ve already had two marriage proposals here in Loitokitok and have successfully dodged them both. Luckily, rejecting proposals was actually a topic already covered in Peace Corps training. The scenario goes like this: A man comes up and asks what country you are from. He tells you how beautiful you are. Then he says we can meet to discuss details and make arrangements. At this point there are three options:

You a) Tell him thank you, try to laugh it off, and say we’ll see.
NOTE: Option a) is definitely a green light for the man. Not good.
b) Tell him thank you, but apologize because you are already married and point to your wedding ring. On that same note, someone needs to send me a wedding ring ASAP.
c) Tell him thank you and accept his proposal. But then, tell him that you don’t cook or clean, in which case he will be disgusted and walk away.

I’m already referring to my life in America as my “past life,” and I don’t think that will change. Everything is so different here, and it makes me realize how little problems in America mattered. Everything is so simple here, and it really makes me shake my head in disbelief when I think about things that consumed my life back at home. While I was hand washing my clothes the other day, I was trying to explain to my host mama that in America, we have machines that wash, soak, and rinse our clothes and chemicals to scrub the dirt away instead of manually doing all of these steps, which is what I now do. She also asked me how HIV/AIDS was in America, and it was strange to admit to her that it isn’t really a problem in America. 1.4 million people are infected with HIV, and that is just in Kenya. That’s not even considering other huge issues such as female genital mutilation, early marriages and prostitution, and malaria, which is the leading cause of death in Kenya. This is something that I cannot even begin to comprehend.

One thing I’ve had to accept is how we appear to Kenyans. People constantly yell “mzungu” at us, which literally translates to “European” or “white person,” (yeah, apparently I’m considered white here). As I said before, kids are taught to associate mzungus with money, so when they look at us, they assume we are dripping with money and ready to give it to anyone. But this isn’t a baseless assumption- many NGO’s and donors that come to Africa do just that. They go to the villages, ask them about their problems, go back to their own countries, and then send the governments a lump sum of money to “solve the problems.” Though this isn’t a bad thing, this isn’t the goal of the Peace Corps. Our job is to go into a village, live there in their standards, and become a part of the community, which is easier said than done considering that even our skin color is associated with money. But once the community realizes that the mzungu is more than just a donor or a grant-writer, the volunteer can begin to teach the community that they have the capacity to solve their own problems through behavior change. You can donate hundreds of thousands of dollars, or you can train and implement simple behaviors into a community such as hand washing or condom usage to begin to solve huge problems such as malaria and HIV/AIDS. These may not lead to instant results, but when the volunteer leaves, the community will be able to continue with the simple behaviors and gradually improve without being dependent on money. And at the end of the day, the goal is that the community will believe they helped themselves.

It took me a while to understand this mindset, but it definitely makes sense. In order for the community to care about these changes, they have to be involved in the process from the beginning. If community members contribute to the efforts, they will feel accountable for how the projects turn out. And in order to collaborate with community members on these projects, I first have to earn their trust and respect, which doesn’t happen overnight. And this is why it is necessary for me to be here for two full years.

A common thought is that people that do the Peace Corps don’t know what they want to do with their lives, and I’m learning that this is not the case. Most people here have a plan- law school, graduate school, medical school, working for the FBI, starting businesses- and they are using this experience as a springboard towards future endeavors. The caliber of people I am around is so high, and it really is an experience just learning from them.

I’ve met and bonded with 35 diverse and unique individuals that all have amazing stories. I’ve met an Ironman Triathalon competitor, a D-1 rower, a Nike model, a hospital-founder in Haiti, a Chinese immigrant, a financial advisor from Wall Street, an inner city public health nurse, and a seafaring sailor that travels the world- all representing America in the Peace Corps. I feel so unaccomplished when I hear about what everyone has done, but I am also so grateful to be surrounded by these incredible people for the next 27 months.

Watch The Lion King and look at the landscape- that is where I am. It is so beautiful here and the people have been very welcoming, once they get over you sticking out like a sore thumb. I’ve just gotten word that in 2 months I’ll be moving to Mumias, which is in the Western Province near Lake Victoria (source of the Nile, 6th grade geography, holler) and the Ugandan border, and that’s where I will be for 2 years. I’ll be living in my own house with electricity and an INDOOR FLUSHING TOILET (which is seriously a huge deal- trust me). So if anyone is up for an adventure and wants to spend few weeks or months here, I’ve got a place for you. You definitely won’t regret it.

Paige Mathew

c/o Peace Corps Kenya

P.O. Box 698-00621

Nairobi, Kenya

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