Education - you're doing it right, Rosslyn Academy.

I think I may have found the school where I wish to student teach. And, maybe, even, many years down the road, be employed as a teacher there.

We'll see if that dream actually comes true, as it's merely a concept floating in my head right now, but after one day I was blown away by Rosslyn Academy. All day long, as I bounced from class to class, I could imagine myself teaching there someday. Those teachers are worth emulating – they are passionate about their subject, teach it well, employ methods that encourage lifelong learning in their students, keep students engaged, and most importantly they show Christ's love to every student they encounter. As I met up with Jess and Hannah at the end of the day, the best way we could sum up the day was we saw every teaching technique we'd ever been taught used by the teachers, and used in the way it was supposed to be used.

Now that I've blurted out my excitement about this school, let me describe some of the things I saw, experienced, and learned along the course of one school day at Rosslyn.

General facts

Rosslyn Academy is a school for students who come from a variety of cultures and backgrounds, and come to Kenya for a variety of reasons. There's students who are children of business men and women, missionaries' kids, kids whose parents are ambassadors or diplomats, or children of staff who work at the school. All in all, there's a little less than 600 students at the school, and 50 different countries are represented by a combination of students and staff at the school, and each of the 50 flags fly along the path that lead to the main reception area.

Rosslyn was started by a combination of three different Christian denominations – Menonite, Baptist, and Assembly of God. The school heavily emphasizes the Christian worldview, and expects their staff to love Christ and live a life that shines His light. The integration of this worldview in the classes does not mean the reading of a Bible verse every class period. Rather (similar to Calvin Christian or Trinity), it means an integration of the faith into the subject matter – how it's taught, how students discuss, how Christians look at the subject and use their knowledge, and so on.

The environment of the school is beautiful. It was the first thing that impressed us when we arrived. It is built on an old coffee plantation, and the buildings reflect the architecture of the original plantation house which now serves as the administrative building. There are several of these beautifully built buildings spread throughout the campus, serving as classrooms and activity rooms for grades pre-K through 12. One thing I like about these buildings is that moving from class to class requires walking outside, even for a short time, enjoying the beautiful Kenyan weather – no long indoor hallways connecting classes. In fact, the gym is completely outside, built into the ground and covered with a vaulted tin ceiling, but you can stand outside and look down to watch games while enjoying the breeze. These buildings are made even more beautiful by the artwork decorating them. The class of 2010 (woop woop!) gave a class gift of a stained glass mural that they designed themselves, which captures several big ideas of Rosslyn, and nearly every building has student-centered artwork like this, either painted by students or, at least, with students working with the artist.

The school itself is based on an American system of education and teachers have to be certified in North America to teach there. Yet, because of all the diversity, the classes taught aren't simply classes about North America, but rather what will be relevant to these students whose lives are often changing as their parents' jobs shift.

Highlights of my observation

There were lots of methods I noted as done really well. Here's just a few things:

• Teachers didn't give students the answers. They asked question after question, scaffolding the students to the answer. Scaffolding is something education classes harp on, and I really saw it done well in these classes.
• In a 6^th grade social studies class, they were learning about city-states. But they weren't merely learning about them – they were experiencing what a democracy is like and acting as those city-states. The class was split into 2 groups, and 1 group was Sparta the other Athens. They had to create a ledger about the government, trade, geography, and more of their city-state. Plus, they had to act as a democracy, like the governments of Athens and Sparta. This meant everyone's voice had to be heard, which the teacher said was proving to be the most difficult for the students to figure out. But they had to find a method to make that happen, and on the day I was there I saw evidence that both groups had worked out their democratic proceedings quite well.
• Teachers built on the students previous knowledge. It was a method that has been hammered into my brain for all of last semester (“activating the students' schema”), and I saw it done really well in the classes at Rosslyn. Teachers would ask students a question that had to do with what they had learned previously, the students would have to explain that concept, and then the teacher would link it to the new concept.
• Rosslyn has a senior seminar class in which students pick an issue they're really interested in to research. They spend many weeks researching it in order to write a 10-page paper and then make a presentation in front of a board. First of all, I loved this idea. It is preparing these seniors for college in ways that many high schools don't. They will know how to thoroughly research, write extensive papers, and make a formal presentation, placing them far ahead of students who have never been expected to do something like that. Second, I was really intrigued by some of the topics I saw students choosing. There was a vast array of topics, including overpopulation, child labor, tribal traditions (done by a non-African, North American female), illegal immigration, rock and roll, and gay rights (that was one sign I wasn't in a traditional Kenyan school, because most Kenyans don't even want to debate that idea).
• I loved the project they were doing in the U.S. history class I observed. The teacher got the idea from the 8^th grade Language Arts teacher (a teacher I observed as well). The project was the students would create their own version of Lake Wobegon, which was a fictional town created by Garrison Keillor, but based on a real place. This means the students choose a U.S. city or town and research the historical facts about this region in a specific era of their choosing. They then write a fictional short story about characters in a town that is based on their historical findings of a real place. Combining writing with history? My dream!
• The 8^th grade Language Arts class had just finished reading The Outsiders, and had been studying 2 vocab lists – both vocabulary words and slang words used in the book. The teacher decided to liven this up by having the students create poems, songs, or raps using at least 10 of the words. They performed them in class, and they were so amazing! To have middle schoolers up in front of their peers, shamelessly rapping and singing, was an awesome achievement in itself, and the raps and songs were also really well written.

What was most impressive about all of these was how engaged the students were the entire time. It's rare to see a class full of students so completely engaged for an entire class period, every one enthusiastic about what is going on; and I saw six period's worth. They didn't begrudgingly answer questions, but rose to the challenge and found the answers for themselves. I can imagine other high schoolers just brushing off the history project as “dumb” or just getting by with the bare minimum, but these students were pumped about it and in their discussions already had some pretty cool character and plot ideas. The eight graders were encouraging every student who got up in front of class, creating a safe environment that they could be confident and have an awesome experience that engages them with the text more than a test or report would. This students owned their learning – they were not just passive spectators, but actively engaging, which will foster learning of the subjects beyond just the next test.

Praising the diversity

Like I said, this is a diverse school, filled with 50 different nationalities. Rosslyn engages in fostering that diversity in many ways. While I was there, I saw the following acts of encouragement of culture:

• In the 8^th grade class, one student rapped in Spanish. Did the teacher look down on it because everyone else had written in English? No. He praised the student's culture, saying something along the lines of “now what was so cool about that rap was...” and then explaining what he found fascinating about what the student had done. He built the student up for using what he knows to create something unique.
• Since I was in a U.S. history course, at the end of the day I wanted to know if there were other history courses that looked at other nationalities. I love my country, but I would hate to see students who are from a different culture having to learn about the States and not their own country and culture, especially since they're studying in Africa. I was pleased to hear that there are several other history courses offered, including history of Kenya as well as history courses in Asian, European, or African history. In fact, the U.S. history course is only required to graduate if a student holds a U.S. passport. The reason they want these students to have a history in the United States is that if they go back, which many of them do, or if they decide to attend college there, they will have a knowledge of the country and not feel quite as out of place around their peers who have grown up there their whole lives. But the variety of history courses shows the school values each student's background.
• The middle school students have written and are now performing a play. This was one of the first things I heard about and I nearly fell over with excitement... middle schoolers writing and producing a play? This is so great! This play, as it was described to us, is about interactions between different cultures on campus. The students had been asked to pick a topic that was important to them, and this was their choice. How great is it that students choose to explore their diversity? I think this shows that students feel safe and that they can embrace the differences around them.

In case you can't tell, I think this school is great. I wasn't able to see the high school English teachers on this day, because they were planning curriculum. However, I am really hoping to go back there this semester so that I can sit in on those teachers as well and continue to experience observing all the great teachers that Rosslyn employs.

If you want to learn more, visit the Rosslyn Academy website: http://rosslynacademy.org/ I'm already learning more just in my brief visit to the site to send you all the link!

I'm sorry that this post is kind of stream of consciousness, but I hope it shows just how amazed and encouraged this school made me. I now know that everything that I've been taught can be done well and it really works if the teacher does it correctly. It requires a commitment out of the teachers and a true passion for what they're doing – those teachers would no be so engaging if they themselves weren't completely in love with what they were teaching. But it's possible. I want to be a teacher like that.

The Children of Athi River

Greetings again from Kenya!

This past week has been more normal (in a sense... as normal as any of this trip can be). Yet I had two interesting experiences relating to children and education.

As an education student at Trinity, I need to get 200 observation hours before senior year. Getting the rest of my observation hours in Kenya has been one of the things I've been looking forward to since I learned I was coming on the trip. On Thursday afternoon I walked down the road with Hannah, the student teacher from TCC who is on the trip with us, to the school where she's been teaching. It is an elementary school, but I was told to try it out because they do go through grade 8 (and I can observe anything above grade 6). Hannah warned me it was going to be a lot different than the United States. Here's some of the things I observed in the short afternoon I was there:

School environment

The physical environment of this school is very different than any school I have ever attended or observed in. It's a sparse playground, mostly just dirt and rocks, and the kids make up their own games. When I walked up (to points and a child yelling “there's two of them now!” I don't think they're used to mzungu teachers coming by), some were rolling tires, others were in circles holding hands and playing some sort of game, and others were just running around. I found out in the classroom later that the trees that dot the area were planted by students. The building is made up of what looks like tin walls and wood beams. That's all. There's several doorways along the front, and each that you walk into leads to two classrooms. There isn't even a full wall in between the two classrooms, so the teachers have to essentially battle to be heard. In the two classrooms I visited, the walls were pretty bare compared to the often bright, colorful posters and sayings that surround classrooms at home. They don't have whiteboards, but chalkboards, and the “duster” (eraser) is a piece of foam.

Students and teachers

There aren't multiple classes of each grade level like there are at home, so there are 8 classes total (not counting “baby class”). Those classes aren't very large – class 6 has 9 students, class 7 has 8 , and class 8 only has 3. When I was there, there were about 4 or 5 teachers – total. And that was more than what sometimes come. Hannah teaches class 3, something she was doing already within the first week. I don't know how I'd feel coming to a different culture, then being thrown into the fire to be in charge of a class all by myself within the first week of student teaching; but Hannah is great. She did warn me to emphasize that I'm not a teacher yet, or I could also find myself in charge. Even with telling the teachers numerous times that I wasn't a teacher, but a student in university, one still asked me “so where do you teach?” after the third time I had told him I'm not a teacher.

Most of the teachers sort of bounce around, floating from grade to grade and subject to subject. I was able to stay with “Teacher Georgina” for observation, and went from seventh grade social studies to sixth grade math. Not exactly the observation I'm used to, but it's still upper grades, still teaching, and still beneficial.

The teaching in the school is mostly verbal lecturing. Yet, I noticed that students verbally respond far more often than they do in the schools I have seen. After nearly every sentence, Georgina might pose a question such as “eh?” or just pause and the students would all say “yes” in unison – not in a cheesy way, but an affirmation. However, no notes are taken during the lecture. Instead, students silently take notes from the reading after the teacher has finished speaking. That's different than my own personal methods, but that's how it's done here.

As far as materials, there are few. The teacher actually asks students to see their textbook they have been taking notes from and uses that as reference for her lecture. Some classes don't even have enough books for each student to have one. When I was their age, there was a surplus of books and anything else I might need my parents were able to buy or the school provided. It's crazy how blessed we are, simply because we were born in the U.S.

I will probably not end up doing most of my observation hours there, but it was a good experience. There is so much pressure on the students here. Everything is test-based (I can hear my education professors cringing a little). The kids take one test in eighth grade to determine if they will go to high school. Everything they learn in the years leading up to it are aiming towards this test. The same goes for high school – one test and they go to university. Though I haven't asked anyone yet, my Kenyan peers could tell me the grade they got in high school – no, not grades, but grade. Because that one grade on the test is all that matters. Even here, many courses have a final that's worth over 50% of the grade. For a girl who has taken very few tests in college (yay for having an English major) this is completely different. And imagine if all my life was centered around these large tests. Sure, we have the ACT, but a whole lot more is considered when you apply to college. Imagine I was just having one bad day. Or for students who are ridiculously smart but are just not great at taking tests. Imagine they don't get into college, or high school even. Imagine!

When asked what they want to be when they grow up, Joshua and Michael, boys without biological parents of their own, both have the first response of “a dad.”

A couple days after I observed in the classrooms, Hannah was telling me and some others about a children's home down the street from the school. She had known about it, as there are 11 children from the home who attend Mulandi where she works. She was invited there at the end of the week, and told she would be welcomed back with any friends who wanted to come. Coincidentally, it ended up being the three education majors – Hannah, Jess, and I – who trekked down the road on Sunday afternoon. The home is called Red Rhino, and was established just about five years ago. It was started by a guy named David, whom we were able to meet and talk with. He is originally from California, though he now stays in Kenya. He was originally an English teacher in the States (yeah, English teachers!) but when he came to Kenya with a friend found he wanted to do something for the children he saw living in the streets. He said the home took several years to complete, but it is a very tidy and beautiful place. Shoes are removed before entering buildings, hands are washed often, and all of the buildings are well-built and very organized. I was really impressed with how nice the entire compound is.

Most of the kids are under ten, though the oldest is 16 and there are some who are between 11 and 14. They are very polite and loving. We arrived before they returned from church, but when they came back many greeted us with hugs. “Mama” Joy, an Irish woman who comes as a volunteer as many times as she can, set us to the task of keeping the kids entertained while lunch was being made. We played with some of the toys they brought out such as puzzles, coloring pages, cars, and more. Some of the kids thought it would be fun to test me on my math skills, so wrote out some math problems to solve then marked them as correct or not. I taught a couple of the girls how to spell my name. After lunch, the kids had a dance party, and before we left the three of us joined in. Some of those kids have some pretty sweet moves, including Michael whom I danced with.

Some of the kids served as our “gentleman” for the afternoon. Two gentleman-ly boys, Steven and Michael, led us on tours through the compound. Those kids fold their clothes better than I do and make their beds neater as well! Michael and another boy named Joshua then ate lunch at the “special” table with us. The lunch was so tasty, and it kept coming – after the main course, there was also juice, sweets (candy), and cupcakes. I enjoyed the meal there better than I do the meals we have at Daystar. The older girls also helped serve the meals. We found out from David that after their tenth birthdays, the kids have more responsibilities placed on them. I think this is a good idea, as life skills and responsibilities will lead to better lives and a good preparation for the future.

Essentially, I loved spending time at Red Rhino. David has such a big heart and you can tell how much he really cares. The kids are cute, kind, and fun to be around. It didn't matter that they didn't know us – they were pulling us to come play with them and speaking with us as though they were 100% comfortable in our presence. I really hope I can go back to spend some more afternoons there in the next two and a half months.

If you want to learn more about Red Rhino, here is the link to their website: http://www.rrop.org/

Friday Jess and I are headed into the city to observe some Christian schools. It's going to be a long day – 5 am departure, with a return time that is TBD – but I am really excited for this opportunity. I knew when I left that what I saw in schools here may forever impact how I teach and view education, and I continue to believe that. God is going to show me amazing things through the kids who live a couple miles away and the students in the schools where I observe. I'm keeping my eyes wide open.

4 week check in

Entering the 4th week...

What I'm still getting used to:

• Lack of personal bubbles. I haven't had a problem with most of the people I meet. Hugs, handshakes, high fives – I am totally cool with that, and that's how most people I encounter greet me. But there are some encounters that I have been a little taken aback, even being the touchy-feely person I am. My love language is physical touch, but because of American culture even I am startled when a complete stranger's is pressed against me in the lunch line and I feel her breath on my neck, or when I'm waiting for pizza and the stranger beside me sits so close our thighs are touching and she is nearly tapping my stomach with her elbow when she moves. Nothing is wrong with this style, it's just a different culture than the hands-off, stay-out-of-my-bubble culture I have known.
• Kenyan time. I would have thought I was used to it by now. And to an extent, I sort of am. I don't worry about getting to my classes on time. When I'm told we're leaving at 5, I expect it to be closer to 5:30. However, on Saturday, I found that there's still a part of me that feels anxious when things don't run on time. A smaller group of us were heading into the city for the day, and both ways I was squirming waiting for the bus to just go. When I arrive at the bus before 9, and the engine starts up at 9, I figure it's going to leave close to 9 (guess again). Or when we get on the bus at 3, I don't expect to sit there until 5:00. It's a process, but the attitude of time as a flexible unit is still setting in for me.
• Bartering. Saturday I had my first experience with bartering. We went to the Masai Market, a big market in downtown Nairobi that sells African-made products. Except you have to barter for the price, and mzungus are easy targets for which the sellers jack up the prices. I bartered my way into a couple souvenirs, but I found out I'm not super good at it. Not compared to some of my other mzungu friends – they were rocking it.

What I miss most about home:

• The people. Just... everyone. Friends at Trinity, friends at home, professors, family. I have a strong community and I miss you all. I like the people who are here, and I'm happy, but there's some really solid people back in the U.S. that I often wish were with me sitting in the sun, or cruising on a motorcycle, or watching monkeys, zebras, and giraffes, or bouncing along in the bus on the way to some adventure, or any of the other experiences I am soaking in.
• Food. I have so many cravings for food from America. I think I especially crave variety. I never was a girl who refused to eat a similar dish twice in a row, but every single meal being nearly the same is not pleasing to me. Especially when I don't love the dish anyway. I want a slushie, some good baked goods, fast food, pasta... Just about anything but dry beef (or fried chicken) and rice.
• Freedom. This partially is freedom due to having a car. I can't just drive myself where I want to go here. I don't have friends who can just drive us somewhere. But more so it's freedom around campus. The hostels don't have visiting hours where mixed genders can hang out in the same room (or even courtyard). There is not really a common lounge area that is available for playing cards or just hanging out and talking once the sun goes down. We have to find a lighted place or just say goodnight. We also must be back in our hostels by 11. Having a curfew is one of my least favorite things. I would like to stay up, watching the stars, playing cards, or just chatting until I'm tired. There's little to do back in the room. Essentially, night time is when I especially feel the lack of freedom.
• Events on campus. Save for two campus events, Daystar hasn't had very many events, and zero goes on during the weekend. In fact, campus pretty much shuts down, which isn't fun for those who stick around. As I heard about the blacklight dance, Trollway to Love, and floor outings I recognized how I miss having those fun things to do.
• Theatre. I miss being involved with a community within the community. It may be claimed that it's my fault, and I should find something to do, but from what I have looked around and found, there's not much that fits my niche. The committees are nice enough, but I'm not passionate about what they're passionate about. Many groups are associated with musical talent, and though I enjoy music, I don't have enough talent to join these incredibly talented people. Call me stuck in a rut, but I would like to have a theatre group I could be a part of – working behind the scenes, maybe even auditioning (they'd probably find it a riot to have a mzungu up on stage). I want to see what theatre is like in Kenya. But I have yet to see or hear about any such theatre group.

What I don't miss about home:

• Snow. I got my fill in the week before I left. A week's worth will hold me over until next year. I can live with constant sunshine and breezes.
• Prices. I have realized how expensive things are at home. In my first supermarket trip, I spent about 7 U.S. dollars. While in town, I found 7 items at a shop and paid a total of about U.S. $3.70. The first $50 I exchanged just got used up last week, and I have been buying food, gifts, and so on. That would never happen in America. That $50 would disappear so quickly. So I'm happy with the prices here.
• Not having much within walking distance. This is a complicated one. On the one hand, I miss my car and getting places easily. Yet, I'm going to be honest – I am getting used to and don't mind walking places. I know my family and friends are keeling over with shock. We can get to the pool, several shops, schools, a children's home, and some restaurants walking from Daystar's campus. In Nairobi, hop off the bus and walk down one street to find everything you could need. I'm not a walker, but I know that walking is good for me and I think I might miss being able to take a walk down the road to places that I want to go. This may mean that between camp schedules, I may actually try walking to Jess's house to swim, something I've only pondered before. But don't get too excited – I'm not walking super far, I'm doing it at a leisurely Kenyan pace, and I'm doing it with friends (that means friends, you also need to try walking with me). Otherwise I'll get sick of it really quickly.
• Cold weather. Again, I could live with this Kenyan weather rather than the cold. When Africans ask me if I like the weather, they often complain about how hot it is. But I am loving it. Bring on the 80s and sunshine.
• Rush and busy-ness. It seems contradictory to my above “getting used to Kenya time” statement. But it is kind of nice sometimes to walk more slowly or to know you aren't going to be in trouble for being a little late. It's more about the journey than the need to get there. I have had some great times walking from one place to another, laughing, telling anecdotes, or sharing our hearts. Plus, I like the less busy life I lead here. I wish I had more involvement in something like a theatre group, sure, but I have read two books in a couple of weeks, just for fun, for the first time since high school. I have sat in the PAC playing cards, singing with people, laughing, or chatting and not felt the pressure to go finish homework. It's a great feeling, and the free time may not last all semester, but I'm soaking it up.

Adventures in Rendilleland

Anabeya!

That's a Rendille greeting, meaning something like “peace be with you.” And the trip to the villages of the Rendille people is what this blog post is about.

I don't even know where to begin. I suppose I'll begin at the very beginning (a very good place to start).

As mentioned in an earlier post, our group was privileged to take two charter planes north, towards the Kaisut Desert. One was a thirteen-seater, the other a five-seater. The sights and surprises began with a bang on this flight. We flew past Mt. Kenya, over tea and coffee plantations, near mountain ranges, and then we found out we needed to land in a nearby game park to replace a battery. So both planes turned toward Lewa Game Park. As we descended, we noticed two elephants right below us. Then we saw a few giraffes as we continued to descend. As we touched down on the dirt landing strip, zebras appeared outside our windows. We were able to all clamber out of the planes and look with awe at our surroundings. Herds of zebras strutted down the landing strip and across the vast savannah in front of us while giraffes ate from trees. In addition, mountains stood tall in the background. Come to find out, this was the place Prince William proposed to Kate. Not going to lie, I would be pretty stoked to be proposed to in this place.

5 seater plane

Ready for take-off!

Dara and Jess re-creating the proposal in Lewa Photo cred: Jess Bordenaro

After all was ready, and we all had dozens of pictures, we got back into the planes, saw some more elephants as we ascended into the air, and then headed for the desert. We crossed the equator into the northern hemisphere, and then circles began appearing on the ground. These circles were Rendille villages (or abandoned Rendille villages). Soon, the town of Korr appeared and Jeff's wife, Asaaska, pointed out her mother's house and compound, where we'd be staying. We landed as curious faces of the village children looked on. After meeting Amina, Jeff's mother-in-law, we got into a school bus and drove a few short minutes to Amina's house and surrounding guest huts that they've developed.

The huts were nice, nicer than most of us expected. Most huts had three beds in each, and there were maybe six or seven huts. There was also the house, where Amina and her grown children live. We were fed shortly after our arrival, goat meat and rice, cooked over a fire. After lunch, we listened to some traditional stories told by some of the family members and then watched “rope throwing.” This tradition begins with a question (such as “will I get a job this year?”), and then elder women of the family spin the rope around and catch it with their hand three times. Depending on if it's caught correctly, that tells yes or no, and how it's caught also signifies a further answer (such as yes, you'll get the job, and you'll earn lots of money, shown by this loop) which the elders explained as they caught it.

Rendille villages from the air

Our compound from the air

Room for the weekend

Story telling

Rope throwing

After this show of a couple of the traditions, we set out for a walk through the desert to the Wiam village. This is where Jeff did much of his dissertation work (his dissertation work dealt the Rendille people in general). Here we learned a lot about the Rendille.

They are semi-nomadic peoples. The town is Korr, which everything centers around, because Korr is where Asaaska's grandpa dug the first wells. The other villages, such as Wiam, revolve around this center, continuing to be somewhat nomadic. The smaller villages move whenever there is a death of an elder or the goat pins are too overloaded with poop; however, they stay within the section deemed for their village in the wheel that extends from Korr.

The people's livelihood comes mostly from camels. They consider these animals sacred, and use everything that can possibly be used of a camel; they drink the blood, eat the meat, and use the skins for their huts or clothes. In fact, Jeff told us camel herders may hike for days, bringing no food with them, and they live off the camels' blood that comes when they make a cut in their neck (one that barely hurts the animal). However, because these animals are sacred, they are not considered beasts of burden, so aren't used to carry anything. Camels are even considered higher than women in the society; when greeting a Rendille elder, you first greet him in the name of God, ask him how he's doing, then ask about his camels, and then finally ask about his women and children.

Which brings me to another cultural fact about the Rendille people. It is a segregated society, based on sex. In the hut, there is a man's side and a woman's side; outside of the hut, the same is true – men sit on one side outdoors, the women sit on the other. Women also are not allowed inside the nabu, or holy place save for one time a year when they bring milk to the men. However, women do a ton of work. They are expected to cook, build the hut (men don't do any of the building), care for the children, gather wood and water – often from several kilometers away, and often on multiple trips for each necessity. Where they find time for it all is a mystery to me.

There are also unique beliefs and traditions when it comes to children. Males are considered children until they are circumcised, which happens every fourteen years (so, potentially, there could be a twenty-something-year-old child). After males are circumcised, they become warriors, until they marry and become husbands then elders. Girls only have two steps – they are a child until they become a wife, and are circumcised on their wedding night.

The Rendille are a resourceful society. Except for a few modern utensils such as mugs that have made their way into the society, the Wiam villagers make whatever they need – baskets, pots, clothes, beads, rugs, and so on. And they are a society that has some extensive ornamentation. Nearly every villager has extensive beaded necklaces and head dresses, and newly-weds are especially decked out in beads; all made by Rendille people.

As far as holidays go, the Rendille don't celebrate Christmas. Instead, the biggest holiday of the year is New Year's which has a very special ceremony and dancing related to it. Furthermore, they celebrate once a month the festival of the new moon, which marks the beginning of their month and also includes lots of dancing. It was this type of dancing that we were able to experience a sample of on Sunday night. But I'll get to that.

Wiam Village

The kids loved the camera

Newly-weds

After visiting the Wiam village, we ate some goat stew and then learned something about Rendille hygiene. Again, they are a resourceful people. Earlier, we found that thorns make great toothpicks. After dinner, we were given sticks to brush our teeth with. It turns out that these type of sticks contain chemicals that toothpaste is made with. You gnaw on the end for a while and soon enough it becomes softer and a sort of bristle appears. Then you simply brush your teeth.

Sunday morning, we trekked across downtown Korr to the church building. There was a lot of singing done by Rendille women and teens. The sermon was preached by an English-speaking missionary, and translated into Rendille. After the service, we met a group of teachers who came from the United States and Australia who had been in Korr for about a month. All but one were teaching in the secondary school, and one of these teachers was an English teacher for fifteen to seventeen-year-old students. The one who wasn't in the secondary school taught at the primary school, and actually graduated with a degree in sports medicine. However, after working in an elementary school with Americorps for a year, she knew she wanted to teach in a different country. All of the teachers were so excited to see us, and invited us to their house. I would've loved to go, and hear more about their experiences teaching, but our other adventures kept us from doing so.

At lunch, Jeff gave as an option for the afternoon – adventure or sleep and relax. We all chose adventure. None of us regretted that choice.

Because of a lack of rain, none of the camels were around in the village. The solution – go where the camels were, which was about an hour's drive through the desert. However, near a group of camels was also some mountains and a waterfall that Jeff had swam in when he was doing his dissertation. So this is where we went. Along the way we found herds of camels, including a whole pack of baby camels, and all of our jaws dropped as we drove farther and farther into the mountain range. It was gorgeous and so worth an hour in a bumpy bus. Then we walked a short way up a mountain until we heard water trickling and turned the corner to see a small pool that was fed by water flowing down white rocks, into a beautiful mountain. A few locals were already sliding down the rocks into the pool. As soon as we could clamber up the rocks, we were dipping our feet into the refreshing water, sliding down the rocks, and splashing into the pool. The water felt like bath water, cold enough but not too cold.

After some time sliding, we looked up to see a camel meandering towards us. Soon, several animals were coming to the pool to drink, giving all the people that were already in the pool below some up-close time with camels and cows – which had several of them laughing and looking around in disbelief. We spent all afternoon there, enjoying time cooling off from the hot desert heat and marveling at God's wondrous works.

As we began our drive back to Korr, we stopped along the way and were handed hand-crafted bows and arrows and told to go hunt down some birds. A few of the Rendille men who were with us demonstrated how to shoot these bows, and then we began to look for birds. Growing up in a hunting family, I split from the large group to walk a few paces away where voices didn't scare the game away. Soon enough, birds began landing in the trees above me. I shot maybe five or six times, most skimming the branch just below or above the bird. Once, I hit a bird but hadn't pulled it far enough back to have any power to do anything but tap the bird. I know, hunters in my family, you're disappointed in me, but at least I sort of hit something.

For me and three others, the ride back continued the adventure. We chose to ride in the land rover, and one by one we all began hanging out of the windows of the car, standing up and watching the desert flash by then leaning up to look at the incredible night sky. It was something I never thought I'd do, but yet it was so much fun and all a part of a great day.

Baby camels

Even with all of this fun, we weren't done for the day once we arrived back at our home for the weekend. Earlier, some of us had watched as a goat was slaughtered. That evening, we feasted. Then a fire was built in the nabu Jeff had created (both genders were accepted) and we enjoyed brownies and cold pop (brownies had been something many of us had been craving since the first week). Then the singing began down the hill.

Elders, who were former warriors, had come to show us some of the traditional dance. They hadn't gotten fully decked out like they would for new moon, but some wore traditional beaded necklaces and headpieces. We all stood around them, shining our flashlights at the ground, and watched. It's hard to describe exactly what was going on. They were singing and making noises, and the dances included jumping or walking around in circles, heads bobbing. The women soon joined the dance, standing on the outside and moving their shoulders and necks to the beat in a way that would make their beads bounce had they been wearing them. Soon enough, us mzungus were pulled in. Men or women were grabbing my hands and tugging me along in the circle with them, and motioning for me to follow their bobbing motions. I began to smile and giggle – not because I thought it was funny, but because I was enjoying myself. It was simple movements, but fun. After awhile, I joined on my own power. Later, more dances came in, including one where warriors would take a woman's hand and they would face each other and bob their heads and bend their knees to the beat. The men kept pulling us girls into this one, and they would laugh with us and pat us on the heads after each dance. Some would cut in on another male and steal us away, and sometimes the original guy would throw up his hands as if to jokingly complain that his girl had been stolen (I could be misinterpreting that though). It was fun, and it was rare; few others can ever say they've danced with Rendille warriors.

Monday was the day we had to depart. We left late, probably because few of us wanted to leave behind these people and this lifestyle. Could I live like that for months? Honestly, I probably wouldn't want to. Could I have stayed there for longer than a weekend? Absolutely. I wasn't bothered by the squat toilets or bucket shower. I wasn't even bothered by the heat too much. Everyone was friendly, even if we weren't speaking the same language. I loved having this strong sense of community. I enjoyed living in a more simple fashion. Moreover, it was unique and a once in a lifetime experience I'll probably tell my kids about; and it was only 2.5 days.

Fun Stuff I've Been Up To

Mambo!

Okay, so I don't really have a day-by-day post for the past week, but here's a few things that have occurred since my first post:

Nairboi, giraffes, and goat meat

Thursday, January 31, was a school-wide prayer day, so all classes were canceled. Our group took the opportunity to take a trip into the city of Nairobi. This is a city, friends, similar to a smaller city you'd encounter in the United States. Not huts, but corporate buildings, retail shops, and restaurants. I just wanted to clarify, since we often get pictures of just the savanna and outlying areas of Kenya. Anyway, we enjoyed some coffee and milkshakes at a coffee shop, then began our walk around the city. We saw the park that is a memorial for what used to stand there – a US embassy, that was bombed in 1998 by Osama Bin Laden. Despite being an American embassy, most of the victims were Kenyans. It was a beautiful park, and I also appreciated the historical aspect of it. Another historical sight we were able to visit was Jomo Kenyatta's grave. Kenyatta was the first president of Kenya, after leading the fight for independence from Britain. We had to stand outside the gate, and couldn't take pictures, but I remember reading some of his political prose and speeches while in history class last semester, so I thought it was cool. We also saw the offices of the President and Prime Minster as well as the Parliament building. Then we went to another park, where we got a great shot of Nairobi and it also was the sight of a amphitheater where rallies are held, which is a much-used site at this time of political campaigns in Kenya.

After our walk, we went out to eat the traditional dish of Kenya – nyama choma, roasted goat. One thing I noticed about this place is that if, on the outside, I saw a place like that back home, I probably would be a little cautious about eating there. That's true about a couple places I've visited. But I'm learning fast that what it looks like doesn't speak towards the food or quality at all. Jeff's wife had arrived about an hour earlier to put in our order, as they don't cook the goat at all until the order is in. It was delicious. It was served with upaki (see Kwick facts) and potato wedges. My stomach's growling just thinking about it now.

Lastly, we visited a giraffe park. We learned fun facts about giraffes and were able to feed them (similar to zoos like Binder Park or Indianapolis). Some of our group even kissed them by putting the pellet near his or her mouth.

Memorial wall of all the victims names of the 1998 bomb blast

Nairobi skyline

Hey there, Daisy

Speaking of animals... I interrupt this blog post to tell you that monkeys are so close to me right now they might just jump on my head. Okay, they hopefully won't, but I'm sitting outside and they're on the trees right behind me. I'm not as surprised to see monkeys now, but they still really entertain me, as you'll notice by various pictures, tweets, and Facebook statuses I write about them.

Monkeys!

Okay, back to your regularly scheduled blog post.

Ropes course

Saturday our group joined Doulos members on a trek to Freedom Base, which is part of campus. There we each were able to do at least one element of their high ropes course. I found that working at camp last summer has made me much more comfortable with heights, at least when it comes to ropes courses and zip lines where I know I have a security system. I did two of the three elements before we ran out of time. The view is also awesome from the course.

Photo cred: Tyler Minnesma

Sunday stroll and “American” food

Sunday we went back to Nairobi. We attended a church service that many college-aged individuals enjoy. Sadly, we missed the first hour, which is when the congregation is led in singing. However, the sermon was still really good; the pastor talked about how to “occupy” your “occupation” - that where you are is where God wants to use you.

After church, we went to an arboretum near Jeff's apartment and strolled around one of the paths, enjoying some of the plant life. Then we relaxed for a while, playing cards or entertaining some of the children in the park. Then we headed for Jeff's apartment, where we enjoyed burgers and hot dogs on the grill. We were all so excited to taste some of the food we're familiar with (craving American food and we'd only been here a week at that point!) and all ended up in food comas. The rest of the afternoon was quite relaxing, playing with Jeff's baby daughter, Leila, and playing games. We also found out while gathered at his house more about the plans for this weekend. We're going to the Rendille village, a rural village that Jeff's wife originates from. We knew we were doing that already, but there were some surprises Jeff had up his sleeve. We were all expecting about a 15 hour road trip, but instead we've secured 2 small planes for the trip! Secondly, each of us get traditional clothes made by Jeff's wife to wear. This is going to be an experience unlike anything I've ever done, but I am excited for it.

Photo cred: Dara Veenstra

About 4 of our group members got involved in hide 'n seek. Photo cred: Dara Veenstra

After the weekend, it's pretty much been normal school days – classes, meals, homework, and hanging out with people. One night a few of us laid on some rocks that are near the library, watching the stars and laughing. Another night we watched a movie. We've also taken some trips to the pool, played lots of cards, and enjoyed each other's company in the library as we still don't have wifi. I'm also having more conversations with my roommates and meeting more Kenyan peers. One girl, Hannah (Ann for short) came up to me while I was reading my book for homework in the PAC and asked a million questions about America. Another girl approached me, and asked if I could give her some English lessons because she doesn't feel she speaks it very well. A third, Nanni (I might be slaughtering her name) is very friendly to me. We met over a meal, and she asked me about my goals in coming here. Then came to the ropes course with us and I have run into her various times on campus. Everyone is friendly, hospitable, and very curious about what my life back home is like. I'm becoming more comfortable on this campus. I can't believe it's only been two weeks!

Kwaheri!

Language, Literature, and History

Niaje, family and friends?

I wanted to share with you all some of the things that the academic side of my time here has been teaching me. So, here's a little about my classes and my thoughts on what they have taught me in just one or two class periods.

I have finally settled in to what should be my normal schedule. I have one class on Monday afternoon (History and Development of Africa), one on Tuesday morning (Oral Literature), and two on Wednesday (World Literature then Sociolinguistics). So far these have been great. The three English courses only include about ten people in most, and of those ten, many of them are in the other two courses with me. I'm happy that the classes are small – some other students who are in the program with me have very large classes. Smaller classes a) allow me to get to know others who share the common interest of literature and language with me, b) is very similar to the number of participants in TCC English courses, and c) makes the class more intimate and discussion based. In fact, none of my lecturers lecture a whole lot. We even change the seating to create a semi-circle of desks rather than everyone facing forward, thus encouraging discussion.

The history course includes just our program group, and is taught by a Kenyan-born man who has also studied in Texas. Thus he can relate to living in America but also knows a lot about his home continent. In our readings for that class, some things I read about I remember from my history course last semester. However, there is much more information – most ideas I read about that were things I had heard about before were only briefly touched upon in my studies – and it's told from a completely different perspective. I'm interested to continue to learn in this class about the history of continent I have not learned very much about, and to hear it from a person (and authors) that have lived through it, or at least grown up knowing it.

I'm also really looking forward to sociolinguistics course this semester. My other English courses will also be good, but I don't know much about them yet. But already sociolinguistics has captured my interest. Learning about linguistics in a country that is so multilingual is going to be great. It's going to be challenging, not knowing the different languages myself, but the lecturer is pretty helpful, and explains to the one mzungu in the class what he's referencing. I think he's excited that I'm in the class, too, to give a perspective of the use of language in the American culture. But already I'm learning so much about African language culture, and I cannot wait to go to this class every Wednesday. Some things I've learned so far: how many different languages an individual African can speak (see “Kwick” Kenyan facts post for more about that), a little about African naming traditions, and the sad reality of how English has been imposed on the people. The lecturer told a historical anecdote about how in elementary schools, students would be forced to wear a placard if they didn't use English around school that said “I'm a (enter grade number here, eg. Grade 4) fool because I can't speak English.” Moreover, now some people feel ashamed of their own traditional language (the rural, tribal language) and don't want to use it. I think both of these examples are sad, because people should feel free to speak the language they are comfortable with and be able to feel pride in their background, including their native tongue.

One last thing about class so far that ties together my history course with my literature studies. I read in my textbook that a group succeeded in abolishing the English Department at the University of Nairobi a few years ago. Now, you'd think I'd dislike this, being an English major, but as I read on I actually understand why and agreed with their actions. The program had been very Euro-centric, and the group worked to have the literature studies instead include much more African writers. The students were still studying some Shakespeare, Tolstoy, Steinbeck, and other western greats, but this was no longer the center; African literature was. This makes sense to me! Unfortunately, the text also went on to say that western writers are once again becoming the center of literature studies in high school and universities, and some students reach college without even knowing what famous African authors wrote.

The fact that literature curriculum is still Euro-centric has been a little bit of a disappointment to me. When choosing which courses to take, my advisor was really hoping I could take advantage of the location and study African literature while at Daystar. I also agreed with this sentiment, as I could study western literature anywhere I wanted to, and have had lots of exposure to that literature already. However, between learning the spring course offering and then a sudden cancellation, there wasn't really an African literature course offered while I'm here. My Oral Literature course seems (so far) that it might expose me to some of the African stories and legends, and I'm hoping to perhaps take a one-credit independent study with a lecturer here in which I can study some African literature. It's just surprising not to see any African literature course offered while I'm studying in Africa.

Essentially, this should be a great semester academically. The homework load hasn't been too overwhelming yet, but neither is it super light. More importantly, I think what occurs in these classes will forever alter how I look at certain things.

"Kwick" Kenya Facts

Sassa, family and friends!

I'll give you a run down of events that have transpired later, but for now I thought I might share a few things I've learned about Kenya and the people of East Africa.

1. Thanks to my sociolinguistics course, I'm learning a lot about African language. Most Kenyans speak several languages. Dominantly, the two languages spoken are English and Kiswahili. However, English is mostly used in formal settings, like class or church or so on. If you approach an adult East African, and want to speak formally because you don't know them well, the best bet is to use English because this side was colonized by the British. However, in Kenya, in more informal situations, the language used is Swahili. But, wait, there's more! Many Kenyans are part of a village, even if they don't currently live there, and in these rural areas they use their own tribal language. Then there's also sheng, which is spoken between members of the same peer group. Sheng, from what I gather, is a mix of Swahili and a couple tribal languages. This might be what is heard when passing students on the sidewalk (though I wouldn't know the difference). All of this just makes me wish I knew Swahili at least, and wish my own culture wasn't so monolingual.
2. Speaking of knowing Swahili, little by little I'm starting to pick up terms from peers. When I learn more, I'll add them to other blog posts.
   1. Sassa: a greeting, and is either followed by sassa or fit (fine, good) (this actually is sheng, not Swahili, and is a very common greeting among the students)
   2. Siku njema: another greeting, meaning good day
   3. Kuja hapa: come here
   4. Nyama choma: roasted goat meat
   5. Lala salama: good night
   6. Nakupenda: I love you
   7. Hakuna shida: no problem
   8. Rafiki: friend
   9. Niaje: how are you?, which is followed by poa: fine
   10. Kwaheri: goodbye
   11. Ni pesa ngapi: how much is it?
3. Driving in Kenya is insane. First of all, the driver's seat is on the right side of the car, and vehicles drive on the left side of the road. This is similar to essentially every other country but our own.
   But yet, vehicles don't always drive on the left side. Sometimes, the driver wants to pass the person in front of them. So they pull onto the right side of the road, facing oncoming traffic, and speed past the line of vehicles before the oncoming traffic gets too close. Or when driving down a bumpy, muddy road, a car, van, or bus will choose whatever side that is most drive-able – whether that be left or right.
   I say drive-able loosely, because that side may not always be the smoothest way to go either. Riders may be bouncing in their seats and nearly hitting their heads on the roof. Or as the car tilts to one side as one end goes into a lower part of the road, riders may be leaning as far as they can the opposite way, praying the vehicle doesn't tip.
   Finally, some rules of the road that exist in the US don't exist here. The rule for who gets right of way at an intersection – the biggest vehicle. Speed limit – not really a thing in most places. If you want to pull into or out of a driveway, you best just assert yourself and hope the other cars speeding towards you slow down. Drivers must be very defensive and offensive drivers at the same time, and I would be terrified trying to maneuver my way around.
   At least they still use turn signals. 
   
   

   

   Muddy road driving. I'm amazed I got this picture so clear with the all the bouncing around we were doing.

    
4. While driving down the highway, you might encounter what I call Kenyan newsies. Guys carry papers around under their arms and approach windows of cars stuck in traffic. The person may open their window and hand the man money, and in return they receive their daily newspaper. Maybe it's due to my love for the musical, but it was notable to me.
5. Daystar University, where we are studying, is one of the most prestigious private universities in all of Africa. Students from several African countries who want “the best” come to attend this college.
   
   
   
6. Animal facts:
   1. There are several different types of giraffes, and three species are native to Kenya. One species is endangered, and Kenya is the home of the majority of this type of giraffe.
   2. Hyenas could potentially come onto this campus late at night, so we all must be within our hostel compounds at 11 (at least, that's what my roommates say... there is a 11:00 curfew, though, and we are in the bush, so it's possible).
   3. Monkeys are as common as squirrels. They are all over this campus, and I've seen many carrying their babies around on their bellies. And Dara and Paige found out they may chase you if you get too close to their babies. 

      

      A tree full of monkeys... Including babies!