Last weekend, I went to a co-worker's village. We did two major things during this period. First, this is Kenya, so we had a big meal prepared by his mother. Second, in very unKenyan fashion, we climbed one of the foothills of Mt. Elgon.
One of the neatest things about visiting Geoffrey's village was meeting people that knew him on the street every two feet. It made me realize that in a village it really is possible to know almost everyone. Since I've always lived in a city, I have never experienced this phenomenon. The second thing that proved fun was addressing everyone using "How are you?" in Bukusu (the local language). I also aided Canada's reputation by telling an old Kenyan man in the local bar (owned by Geoffrey's brother-in-law) that Canada was not part of the United States. I think I've done my patriotic duty.
While climbing the little foothill, I found out that I am quite out of shape. As always, I was amazed by the Kenyans who live in the area. (Quite comfortingly Geoffrey was also panting on his way up the hill). It was our impromptu guide who amazed me. He was a young man who turned out to be a old neighbour to Geoffrey. He met us half way up the hill as we were resting on some rocks. Mt. Elgon and area are ancient volcanos. If the big rocks with characteristic volcanic bubbles didn't convince me I was looking at an old volcano, the dark, almost black soil caused by the volcanic ash would have. But Geoffrey's neighbour amazed me because he climbed the rocks AND nimbly skipped down the hill in FLIP FLOPS. As you all know I'm a complete klutz, I managed to fall down the hill at one point in my expensive Canadian hikers.
All that being said, it was incredible to climb up a hill that people were using to grow corn and graze their cattle. How they made it up the hill I'm not sure. We even bought sugar cane for a quick snack on the way down. Yes, we used sugar cane bought from a local villager in much the way I would have eaten a granola bar at home. Admittedly, it was probably organice and environmentally friendly since it just came as the cane without any packaging. We also heard drums from church services throughout the rock. Between the Kenyans peacefully tending their cattle, or hanging out on rocks, and the church music it was a positively idyllic African afternoon.
The only thing to mar this picture was hearing an female genital mutilation (FGM) ceremony. The Saboat in Mt. Elgon still practice FGM although it is technically illegal. One chief at our training told the participants that he didn't want to see any of that in his region. It is considered a harmful cultural practice in Kenya, and therefore, unconstitutional with Kenya's constitution. So hopefully it will be ending soon. On the bright side, one girl told me that men in some areas were starting to refuse to marry girls who had FGM because they weren't very good in bed for obvious reasons. I think this turn of events might be the most useful thing in stopping FGM.
Anyways, onto a more pleasant topic. I ate some of the best chicken at Geoffrey's house. There's something comforting in knowing that just hours before someone had personally slaughtered that chicken. Bizarrely we had to keep chasing away the chickens from the table where we were eating outside. You'd think that the chickens wouldn't want to be around people eating their brethren. Actually, I think that would be grounds for a revolt in my world, rather than a cause to go and say hello. I suppose it's chickens proving their stupidity. I have to admit that my animal rights activist self has become a great deal less strong since moving to Kenya where livestock is always around and always safely in the food category.
My visit to Geoffrey's village does provide an opportunity to describe what most, although Geoffrey's was nice, look like. They have a main house and a separate house for cooking. There's also always a portion set aside for substitence farming. However, the most interesting phenomenon in Bukusu culture for me is something called a Simba (meaning lion in kiswahili). After circumsision, boys move into a Simba. It is a separate sleeping quarters from the main house. Geoffrey has built himself a very nice simba that his younger brothers now live in. I thought it was a little cruel to make boys between the ages of 10 and 14 basically move out of their parents house. However, since the parents house is mere meters away and the kitchen is not even in the house it seems like an okay system. It reminds me of moving to the basement where you get your own space. The boys I talked to seemed to like having a simba. I have to admit I'm still rather confused where this practice comes from, but I guess if it works.
Welcome to a slice of village life.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Friday, November 26, 2010
Kristin's Kisumu
So my new roommate took me to Kisumu recently. She visited Kisumu as a student several times, meaning that she knows the town. This one was my third time in Kisumu. It's Kenya's third largest city, resting laguidly on the banks of Lake Victoria. Apparently there's hippos out in the lake. I keep promising myself that someday I will actually pay the money to go out in a boat for a quick looksie. So far, no dice.
Instead, I spent my weekend in Kisumu fulfilling my need for rest and relaxation. The Friday night, Kristin took me out for kuku choma (roasted chicken). It's a tradition that's taken off all over Kenya. Tribes used to eat it at celebrations, but now you can find various types of choma all over the country. This particular choma restaurant catered to your average kenyan. And Kristin and I paired our kuku choma with some ugali so we could call ourselves truly Kenyan. Ugali is the principal plate of Kenya. It's a thick, white paste that can be rolled into balls made out of corn flour. Usually people eat ugali with meat stew and vegetables. Kenyans adore ugali. One Kenyan told me that he hadn't eaten unless he had eaten some ugali. This stance means that pasta, pizza, meat and potatoes or any other type of Western food counts as a snack for your average Kenyan. Also, every Kenyan is absolutely shocked that Canadians do not include ugali in their daily diets. In the night air of Kisumu, ugali and kuku choma were perfect.
My second cultural experience of the night was an outting to the local African nightclub called "Sunspot." I loved this nightclub. It played only african music from various countries. Music from the Congo in Lingala is quite popular. In general, African music is quite chill with beats akin to reggae (another music style most Kenyans enjoy). And, of course, people dance. I found the Kenyan club experience to be really chill. I didn't feel any pressure to dress in a particular way either. I went in a t-shirt and pants and had a ton of fun. Most of the Kenyan women were more dressed up than I, admittedly. I felt so little pressure to look, act or dance a certain way at the Kenyan club that I couldn't help but wonder if it wasn't my exemption as a foreigner from the culture's pressures. Obviously, it doesn't mean the same thing for me to go to the club as it does for a Kenyan woman.
After a chat with my co-worker, I think I have a better idea of what a club would be like for a Kenyan girl. For starters, Kenyan women don't want to pick up at the club. It's only going to be a one night stand. The most popular pick up joint in Kenya is actually church. Not surprising I suppose considering the number of people that go to church. Also, there's stories about how men go to church pretending to be faithful until they find a nice girl, and then completely abandoning their faith. Back to the club experience though. Going to a club, as a Kenyan woman, connotes some liberality because generally nice girls don't frequent clubs or at least not often. Also, clubs host many prostitutes. I suppose it's best as a guy to be wary at the club of being picked up by a prostitute.
As for me, I had a blast dancing and watching the locals dance. It was also the first time that a guy danced to impress me. He shook his hips and moved his shoulders beside me. I have to admit that the effect he wanted was somewhat lost on me because it just made me laugh. Still had a blast.
The next day was spent chillaxin' by the pool at the Kisumu Hotel. Most of the people in the pool were white foreigners because most Kenyans do not know how to swim. As a general rule, Kenyans are terrified of water. In Webuye, I had the pleasure of watching a little Kennyan boy learn how to swim. I have to admit that it was quite amusing. The boy wouldn't put his face in the water. Imagine a front crawl without your face in the water while your arms windmill into the water creating big splashes as your head awkwardly turns to try and keep pace with your arms. It made my neck sore just watching the boy's head shake back and forth to match his spinning arms. Of course, the amount of chlorine in the pool kept me from putting my head in for any length of time, but serious swimming requires a good pair of goggles.
After the pool, we went to the mall for a good cup of coffee and piece of cake. It was the weirdest thing to see a mall with a parking lot in the middle of Kenya. This one looked and felt just like a mall in Canada. Of course, the iced coffee and chocolate cake were a welcome treat. Not sure why I miss coffee shops so much when abroad, but it's a place that I miss.
Finally, we went to a concert. I'm not even sure what the name of the artist was now. It was at a little bar. The stage was quite far back from the crowd and the performers weren't really paying that much attention to the audience. Weirdest was that to one side of the "stage" a tailor worked presumably on showing costumes. Perhaps we were just too early, but it was the strangest concert I've ever been to.
The neatest part of the concert was the dancing. They had employed one dancer, although half way through he was joined by a street kid. Man, could these boys dance. To this day, I don't understand how they isolated their hips to make that movement. The street kid started getting cheers from the crowd. Coolest though was that he motioned me to come dance with him. So me and Kristin went out to show him some mzungu (white person) moves. The white people dances basically invovle lots of big arms and some of the classics, such as the shopping cart, swim, skiier, bus driver etc. He copied us and we tried to copy him. This kid had such sass about him. Quite gutsy really to barge into a concert and start dancing. I was sad to see him sniffing glue because I thought he had such talent. Another example of how poverty causes lots of wasted potential.
Anyhoo, that was my weekend in Kristin's Kisumu. I think we managed to hit all her favourite spots including the nice hotel with free wifi. Oh and we went out for kick-ass indian food. For a place with a fairly substantial indian population, I'm not sure why indian restaurants aren't more common, but such is life.
Here's a quick recipe for Ugali
Corn flour
Water
Boil the water. Pour in the flour. Stir until you have a thick paste or dough. Some Kenyans say that it should burn a little at the bottom to be properly cooked.
Instead, I spent my weekend in Kisumu fulfilling my need for rest and relaxation. The Friday night, Kristin took me out for kuku choma (roasted chicken). It's a tradition that's taken off all over Kenya. Tribes used to eat it at celebrations, but now you can find various types of choma all over the country. This particular choma restaurant catered to your average kenyan. And Kristin and I paired our kuku choma with some ugali so we could call ourselves truly Kenyan. Ugali is the principal plate of Kenya. It's a thick, white paste that can be rolled into balls made out of corn flour. Usually people eat ugali with meat stew and vegetables. Kenyans adore ugali. One Kenyan told me that he hadn't eaten unless he had eaten some ugali. This stance means that pasta, pizza, meat and potatoes or any other type of Western food counts as a snack for your average Kenyan. Also, every Kenyan is absolutely shocked that Canadians do not include ugali in their daily diets. In the night air of Kisumu, ugali and kuku choma were perfect.
My second cultural experience of the night was an outting to the local African nightclub called "Sunspot." I loved this nightclub. It played only african music from various countries. Music from the Congo in Lingala is quite popular. In general, African music is quite chill with beats akin to reggae (another music style most Kenyans enjoy). And, of course, people dance. I found the Kenyan club experience to be really chill. I didn't feel any pressure to dress in a particular way either. I went in a t-shirt and pants and had a ton of fun. Most of the Kenyan women were more dressed up than I, admittedly. I felt so little pressure to look, act or dance a certain way at the Kenyan club that I couldn't help but wonder if it wasn't my exemption as a foreigner from the culture's pressures. Obviously, it doesn't mean the same thing for me to go to the club as it does for a Kenyan woman.
After a chat with my co-worker, I think I have a better idea of what a club would be like for a Kenyan girl. For starters, Kenyan women don't want to pick up at the club. It's only going to be a one night stand. The most popular pick up joint in Kenya is actually church. Not surprising I suppose considering the number of people that go to church. Also, there's stories about how men go to church pretending to be faithful until they find a nice girl, and then completely abandoning their faith. Back to the club experience though. Going to a club, as a Kenyan woman, connotes some liberality because generally nice girls don't frequent clubs or at least not often. Also, clubs host many prostitutes. I suppose it's best as a guy to be wary at the club of being picked up by a prostitute.
As for me, I had a blast dancing and watching the locals dance. It was also the first time that a guy danced to impress me. He shook his hips and moved his shoulders beside me. I have to admit that the effect he wanted was somewhat lost on me because it just made me laugh. Still had a blast.
The next day was spent chillaxin' by the pool at the Kisumu Hotel. Most of the people in the pool were white foreigners because most Kenyans do not know how to swim. As a general rule, Kenyans are terrified of water. In Webuye, I had the pleasure of watching a little Kennyan boy learn how to swim. I have to admit that it was quite amusing. The boy wouldn't put his face in the water. Imagine a front crawl without your face in the water while your arms windmill into the water creating big splashes as your head awkwardly turns to try and keep pace with your arms. It made my neck sore just watching the boy's head shake back and forth to match his spinning arms. Of course, the amount of chlorine in the pool kept me from putting my head in for any length of time, but serious swimming requires a good pair of goggles.
After the pool, we went to the mall for a good cup of coffee and piece of cake. It was the weirdest thing to see a mall with a parking lot in the middle of Kenya. This one looked and felt just like a mall in Canada. Of course, the iced coffee and chocolate cake were a welcome treat. Not sure why I miss coffee shops so much when abroad, but it's a place that I miss.
Finally, we went to a concert. I'm not even sure what the name of the artist was now. It was at a little bar. The stage was quite far back from the crowd and the performers weren't really paying that much attention to the audience. Weirdest was that to one side of the "stage" a tailor worked presumably on showing costumes. Perhaps we were just too early, but it was the strangest concert I've ever been to.
The neatest part of the concert was the dancing. They had employed one dancer, although half way through he was joined by a street kid. Man, could these boys dance. To this day, I don't understand how they isolated their hips to make that movement. The street kid started getting cheers from the crowd. Coolest though was that he motioned me to come dance with him. So me and Kristin went out to show him some mzungu (white person) moves. The white people dances basically invovle lots of big arms and some of the classics, such as the shopping cart, swim, skiier, bus driver etc. He copied us and we tried to copy him. This kid had such sass about him. Quite gutsy really to barge into a concert and start dancing. I was sad to see him sniffing glue because I thought he had such talent. Another example of how poverty causes lots of wasted potential.
Anyhoo, that was my weekend in Kristin's Kisumu. I think we managed to hit all her favourite spots including the nice hotel with free wifi. Oh and we went out for kick-ass indian food. For a place with a fairly substantial indian population, I'm not sure why indian restaurants aren't more common, but such is life.
Here's a quick recipe for Ugali
Corn flour
Water
Boil the water. Pour in the flour. Stir until you have a thick paste or dough. Some Kenyans say that it should burn a little at the bottom to be properly cooked.
Sunday, November 21, 2010
October Highlights
So I've decided to update my blog which appears to be slowly dying. I'm starting with October before moving onto November. As you were all merrily enjoying Autumn, I was enjoying the short rains in Kenya. I had three major events in October: 1) Kericho, 2) Uganda, and 3) Kakamega Forest.
Kericho
Kericho is still in Western Kenya, but, unlike Bungoma, it's a tea growing region. I'm sure most of you can guess that was the draw for me. I adore tea so I really wanted to see how tea is made. Me, and a two fellow German enthusiats, went picking in the tea fields and then headed to the factory. Tea has got to be one of the prettiest crops I've seen. They are waist-high green bushes whose leaves become the most delectable drink of all time. It's almost all hand picked because you need to pick the top three leaves only. Machines aren't quite that particular. Tea is also a pretty cool plant because the same same leaves can me made into white, green or black tea.
I didn't actually stop at picking on the tea plantation - I went to the factory as well. Unlike other places in the world, more than half of the tea factories in Kenya are farmer owned. By owning the factories, the farmers can ensure a fairer price for their tea although they are not fair trade.
I found the factory really interesting but I'm not so sure all of you will be as enthralled. Basically, the process goes something like this: 1) wither the leaves, 2) cut and tear them, 3) oxidize them (this step is only for black tea), 4) dry 'em out 5) sort for the best quality 6) pack and ship 'em out. It's quite sad actually that all the best tea, as well as coffee, is exported. For a nation that grows some of the best coffee, the average Kenyan drinks instant. The tea is of a slightly better quality from the supermarket, but the sad fact is that you're probably drinking better tea outside the country than inside. Tetly is actually one of the producers that buys the tea from the Momul factory we visited.
Oh the other interesting thing about Kericho was the Tea Hotel. It was built in the 1950s. While a stunning building, unlike most of Kenyan architecture, it reeked of colonialism. There was such a palatial feel to this building that it turned me off. It's the first place I've really seen like that in Kenya.
Uganda
Where to start? Well, I went three places in Uganda: 1) Kampala, 2) Entebbe, and 3) Jinja. I actually have less to say about Kampala. I kinda skipped the tourist attractions and focused on all the things I can't get in Bungoma. I went straight for the coffeeshop and english bookstore. I was just so excited to be in a city. I bought two books on development - Dead Aid by Dombisa Moyo and one about food security. Dead Aid was fantastic. Totally read. I'll write a post about it because it was just that good. umm Kampala as a city. It's a busy city with an army of motorbike taxis. I was constantly lost in Kampala.
Entebbe was completely different. It's only about an hour away from Kampala, but the picture perfect resort right on Lake Victoria. Lake Victoris is the massive lake in the middle of East Africa that touchs Kenya, Uganda, and Tanzania. I keep wishing there was a ferry across it, but it's not to be.
The big highlight of Entebbe though was the Chimpanzee Sanctuary on Ngama Island. Apparently there are chimpanzee sanctuaries all over the world including Louisana in the US. In the name of honesty though, the chimp sancuary was expensive and kinda felt like a zoo. The chimps are allowed to roam free, but visitors are allowed to see the feedings. I have to admit they do act a lot like humans. I was amazed to find them clapping and holding out their hands for food. They do share 96% of their genes with humans though so not sure why I'm surprised. I think there's a difference between knowing that chimps and humans are remarkably similar and seeing it. I'm happy to report though that humans are a great deal less violent than chimps. The chimps we saw fought tooth and nail over food. Actually, chimpanzees in sanctuaries often cannot be re-introduced into the wild because if another chimpanzee group is in the area the two groups will fight to the death for the territory. They also don't share. The guide told me that the only thing chimps share is breast milk. He mentioned this during a story about chimps returning to the spot where another chimp had died in a type of mourning ritual. I found that a fascinating tidbit to imagine another animal engaging in some type of mourning. Anyways, that was the chimps. Darn cute though. Oh if you are interested, this chimp sanctuary offered a caregiver experience. It's a lot of money but you get to feed the chimps, put them to bed, have them climb on you etc. Sounded pretty sweet, but of course I didn't have the money/time to go for it.
Onto Jinja, my last stop in Uganda. I really liked Jinja. It also goes down as the place where I had my most adventuresome motorbike ride. The Lonely Planet mentioned a textile shop near Jinja. So we asked some local motorbike drivers to take us there. They asked around and apparently thought they knew where they were going. As I'm about to motor off, a ugandan guy tells me, "I want to make love to you." I kind of stare at him strangely while motioning for my motorbike driver to step on it. Then we're waiting in traffic on the bridge crossing the Nile, and two guys start talking to me in Lugandan (the local language). My motorbike driver is nice enough to translate: "You're beautiful and we love you because you're beautiful." The most bizarre part of this experience is not so much the protestations of undying affection, but the fact that the driver and his passenger are wedged tightly together. I'm aware that homosocial relationships are often expressed very differently in other parts of the world, such as men holding hands in Uganda does not connote homosexuality. However, when protesting love to someone I think it's better not to be holding another guy too close. That's just me though. If all the love I'm getting from the ugandan men isn't enough, my driver stops to fill up the bike. And somehow or other she puts too much in. And he argues ad nauseum with the poor woman. Finally, she asks me if I've paid and if not, then maybe I can pay her. So I pay for my driver's gas. This ride was also exciting because we had to stop several places to ask for directions. Voila! We finally make it to the textile factory. I thought it was pretty cool to see all the hand-looms. The size of the was quite astonishing. I'll add a pic for everyone to see.
The final highlight of Uganda was rafting the Nile. I'm incredibly lucky to have gone now because they are building a new dam that will get rid of about half of the rapids forever. The best part about raftin on the Nile though is that it's not too cold when you fall in. Plus the water is quite deep so it's fairly hard to get hurt.I should know since our raft flipped 5 times (once was the safety demonstration, but still lots of flips!) So much fun. And the scenery is absolutely beautiful. Our company fed us pineapple and cookies in the middle of the trip to keep our energy up. The only downside to the Nile was that the rapids tended to be fairly far apart. So you'd better be prepared to paddle.
Unlike my rafting trip in Canada, I saw way more wildlife. There were a couple different types of birds, some lizards, two eagles, and some bats. Luckily, I missed any of the crocs that are apparently in the water. The weirdest part of the wildlife was actually man-made if you will. Ugandans have been quite busy cutting down the indigenous rainforest in order to plant pine. I was quite surprised to see pine (trees from my native country) on the banks of the Nile. Not only do they look horribly out of place, but they change the pH in the soil making it impossible to simply re-plant the indigenous forest. They plant pine because it grows faster making it easier to produce paper and fire wood. Uganda has a deforestation rate of 3% per year though. Anyways, it's still a beautiful place, but environmental problems definitely exist.
I found Ugandans on a whole to be a lot more chill than Kenyans. I think I noticed this most at the market place. I'm currently used to the Kenyan bargaining style where you talk lots and try to get him down by quite a bit. I went in all ready to bargain and the woman didn't really move all that much. Nor did she make any major comments regarding how the merchandise was so nice and that I was already getting a good deal. Oh no, she just kinda looked uncomfortable. I bought the scarves anyways, but it was definitely a less intense experience than most of my bargaining here in Kenya (although truth be told I'm not that good at it. . . )
Kakamega Forest
After heading off to Uganda, my friend and I took a quick trip to the Kakamega Forest. I only live about 2 hours away from this national park. This forest is all that's left of the rainforest that stretched all the way from the Congo to Western Kenya. I'm quite sad that it's mostly gone now.
This place goees down as the most magical I've been to in Kenya. There's something special about a walk through the rainforest. To know that those trees have been there for hundreds of years. Even though we were slighly unlucky in the sense that it rained so we saw very little wildlife, I still felt the magic of being under that green canopy. I felt like it could have been a millenia ago before humans even walked the earth.
Some of my guides stories about some of the tribes traditions were quite interesting. There's one tree that will cure typhoid if you run to it, then around it 9 times, followed by running all the way home. The catch is though that you can't look back on the way home. Similarly, another tree can cure infertility if a woman takes a pot with water to the sacred tree. She drinks the water from home, but leaves the pot behind. When she returns for the pot, she drinks the rainwater it has collected in the interim. Then voila, the baby will come.
Ok, so these two beliefs I'm not so sure about. On the other hand, some of the plants do have medicinal purposes. Our guide was part of a group that has started a tree nursery where local healers etc. can come to gather those plants, rather than heading into the forest. This is just one example of some of the initiatives that have been started to conserve the wilderness.
Anyhoo, that's all she wrote for October. I also managed to do some work during that month so never fear.
Kericho
Kericho is still in Western Kenya, but, unlike Bungoma, it's a tea growing region. I'm sure most of you can guess that was the draw for me. I adore tea so I really wanted to see how tea is made. Me, and a two fellow German enthusiats, went picking in the tea fields and then headed to the factory. Tea has got to be one of the prettiest crops I've seen. They are waist-high green bushes whose leaves become the most delectable drink of all time. It's almost all hand picked because you need to pick the top three leaves only. Machines aren't quite that particular. Tea is also a pretty cool plant because the same same leaves can me made into white, green or black tea.
I didn't actually stop at picking on the tea plantation - I went to the factory as well. Unlike other places in the world, more than half of the tea factories in Kenya are farmer owned. By owning the factories, the farmers can ensure a fairer price for their tea although they are not fair trade.
I found the factory really interesting but I'm not so sure all of you will be as enthralled. Basically, the process goes something like this: 1) wither the leaves, 2) cut and tear them, 3) oxidize them (this step is only for black tea), 4) dry 'em out 5) sort for the best quality 6) pack and ship 'em out. It's quite sad actually that all the best tea, as well as coffee, is exported. For a nation that grows some of the best coffee, the average Kenyan drinks instant. The tea is of a slightly better quality from the supermarket, but the sad fact is that you're probably drinking better tea outside the country than inside. Tetly is actually one of the producers that buys the tea from the Momul factory we visited.
Oh the other interesting thing about Kericho was the Tea Hotel. It was built in the 1950s. While a stunning building, unlike most of Kenyan architecture, it reeked of colonialism. There was such a palatial feel to this building that it turned me off. It's the first place I've really seen like that in Kenya.
Uganda
Where to start? Well, I went three places in Uganda: 1) Kampala, 2) Entebbe, and 3) Jinja. I actually have less to say about Kampala. I kinda skipped the tourist attractions and focused on all the things I can't get in Bungoma. I went straight for the coffeeshop and english bookstore. I was just so excited to be in a city. I bought two books on development - Dead Aid by Dombisa Moyo and one about food security. Dead Aid was fantastic. Totally read. I'll write a post about it because it was just that good. umm Kampala as a city. It's a busy city with an army of motorbike taxis. I was constantly lost in Kampala.
Entebbe was completely different. It's only about an hour away from Kampala, but the picture perfect resort right on Lake Victoria. Lake Victoris is the massive lake in the middle of East Africa that touchs Kenya, Uganda, and Tanzania. I keep wishing there was a ferry across it, but it's not to be.
The big highlight of Entebbe though was the Chimpanzee Sanctuary on Ngama Island. Apparently there are chimpanzee sanctuaries all over the world including Louisana in the US. In the name of honesty though, the chimp sancuary was expensive and kinda felt like a zoo. The chimps are allowed to roam free, but visitors are allowed to see the feedings. I have to admit they do act a lot like humans. I was amazed to find them clapping and holding out their hands for food. They do share 96% of their genes with humans though so not sure why I'm surprised. I think there's a difference between knowing that chimps and humans are remarkably similar and seeing it. I'm happy to report though that humans are a great deal less violent than chimps. The chimps we saw fought tooth and nail over food. Actually, chimpanzees in sanctuaries often cannot be re-introduced into the wild because if another chimpanzee group is in the area the two groups will fight to the death for the territory. They also don't share. The guide told me that the only thing chimps share is breast milk. He mentioned this during a story about chimps returning to the spot where another chimp had died in a type of mourning ritual. I found that a fascinating tidbit to imagine another animal engaging in some type of mourning. Anyways, that was the chimps. Darn cute though. Oh if you are interested, this chimp sanctuary offered a caregiver experience. It's a lot of money but you get to feed the chimps, put them to bed, have them climb on you etc. Sounded pretty sweet, but of course I didn't have the money/time to go for it.
Onto Jinja, my last stop in Uganda. I really liked Jinja. It also goes down as the place where I had my most adventuresome motorbike ride. The Lonely Planet mentioned a textile shop near Jinja. So we asked some local motorbike drivers to take us there. They asked around and apparently thought they knew where they were going. As I'm about to motor off, a ugandan guy tells me, "I want to make love to you." I kind of stare at him strangely while motioning for my motorbike driver to step on it. Then we're waiting in traffic on the bridge crossing the Nile, and two guys start talking to me in Lugandan (the local language). My motorbike driver is nice enough to translate: "You're beautiful and we love you because you're beautiful." The most bizarre part of this experience is not so much the protestations of undying affection, but the fact that the driver and his passenger are wedged tightly together. I'm aware that homosocial relationships are often expressed very differently in other parts of the world, such as men holding hands in Uganda does not connote homosexuality. However, when protesting love to someone I think it's better not to be holding another guy too close. That's just me though. If all the love I'm getting from the ugandan men isn't enough, my driver stops to fill up the bike. And somehow or other she puts too much in. And he argues ad nauseum with the poor woman. Finally, she asks me if I've paid and if not, then maybe I can pay her. So I pay for my driver's gas. This ride was also exciting because we had to stop several places to ask for directions. Voila! We finally make it to the textile factory. I thought it was pretty cool to see all the hand-looms. The size of the was quite astonishing. I'll add a pic for everyone to see.
The final highlight of Uganda was rafting the Nile. I'm incredibly lucky to have gone now because they are building a new dam that will get rid of about half of the rapids forever. The best part about raftin on the Nile though is that it's not too cold when you fall in. Plus the water is quite deep so it's fairly hard to get hurt.I should know since our raft flipped 5 times (once was the safety demonstration, but still lots of flips!) So much fun. And the scenery is absolutely beautiful. Our company fed us pineapple and cookies in the middle of the trip to keep our energy up. The only downside to the Nile was that the rapids tended to be fairly far apart. So you'd better be prepared to paddle.
Unlike my rafting trip in Canada, I saw way more wildlife. There were a couple different types of birds, some lizards, two eagles, and some bats. Luckily, I missed any of the crocs that are apparently in the water. The weirdest part of the wildlife was actually man-made if you will. Ugandans have been quite busy cutting down the indigenous rainforest in order to plant pine. I was quite surprised to see pine (trees from my native country) on the banks of the Nile. Not only do they look horribly out of place, but they change the pH in the soil making it impossible to simply re-plant the indigenous forest. They plant pine because it grows faster making it easier to produce paper and fire wood. Uganda has a deforestation rate of 3% per year though. Anyways, it's still a beautiful place, but environmental problems definitely exist.
I found Ugandans on a whole to be a lot more chill than Kenyans. I think I noticed this most at the market place. I'm currently used to the Kenyan bargaining style where you talk lots and try to get him down by quite a bit. I went in all ready to bargain and the woman didn't really move all that much. Nor did she make any major comments regarding how the merchandise was so nice and that I was already getting a good deal. Oh no, she just kinda looked uncomfortable. I bought the scarves anyways, but it was definitely a less intense experience than most of my bargaining here in Kenya (although truth be told I'm not that good at it. . . )
Kakamega Forest
After heading off to Uganda, my friend and I took a quick trip to the Kakamega Forest. I only live about 2 hours away from this national park. This forest is all that's left of the rainforest that stretched all the way from the Congo to Western Kenya. I'm quite sad that it's mostly gone now.
This place goees down as the most magical I've been to in Kenya. There's something special about a walk through the rainforest. To know that those trees have been there for hundreds of years. Even though we were slighly unlucky in the sense that it rained so we saw very little wildlife, I still felt the magic of being under that green canopy. I felt like it could have been a millenia ago before humans even walked the earth.
Some of my guides stories about some of the tribes traditions were quite interesting. There's one tree that will cure typhoid if you run to it, then around it 9 times, followed by running all the way home. The catch is though that you can't look back on the way home. Similarly, another tree can cure infertility if a woman takes a pot with water to the sacred tree. She drinks the water from home, but leaves the pot behind. When she returns for the pot, she drinks the rainwater it has collected in the interim. Then voila, the baby will come.
Ok, so these two beliefs I'm not so sure about. On the other hand, some of the plants do have medicinal purposes. Our guide was part of a group that has started a tree nursery where local healers etc. can come to gather those plants, rather than heading into the forest. This is just one example of some of the initiatives that have been started to conserve the wilderness.
Anyhoo, that's all she wrote for October. I also managed to do some work during that month so never fear.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Cooking Forays!
So I have made chapati (flat bread), groundnut (or a variety of peanut) stew and matooke (mashed plantains) in the past two days. For chapati I went into my director's kitchen to cook with her cousin. I have to admit that there was something inherently soothing in the act of making bread. Although the nice thing about a flatbread is that there's no waiting around for it to rise. Just mix it up, roll in out (well this step takes a bit since you do it twice), then throw it on a pan to cook. And oh goodness does chapati ever taste good. The warm, oily, bready wonderfulness that's chapati. Definitely my favourite food in Kenya although groundnut stew scores a close second.
I'm going to share the chapati recipe but really it's just a list of ingredients because Kenyans don't measure anything when they cook. It's more of a throw in the pot and hope it comes out kinda attitude. Nor do they seem to share recipes on cards to put in boxes like some of us are wont to do. And, most unfortunately, the church or school cookbook is absolutely non-existent.
Chapati
Flour
Salt
Egg (I've been told these can be optional
Oil
Water
Mix it all together until it resembles dough.
Roll it out into a square. (I think techniques might differ here). After we rolled, we cut the dough into long, thin strips that we rolled into a pinwheel shape that eventually made a little ball of dough. Then we rolled out the little balls of dough into round, pancake shapes.
Now you're ready to cook your chapati. Put oil on the pan, throw on the chapati. Flip it once or twice, possibly adding a bit more oil for that top side. The goal is a nice, golden chapati. You'll know if there's too little oil because it'll be white rather than golden.
And voila! chapati!
I'm going to share the chapati recipe but really it's just a list of ingredients because Kenyans don't measure anything when they cook. It's more of a throw in the pot and hope it comes out kinda attitude. Nor do they seem to share recipes on cards to put in boxes like some of us are wont to do. And, most unfortunately, the church or school cookbook is absolutely non-existent.
Chapati
Flour
Salt
Egg (I've been told these can be optional
Oil
Water
Mix it all together until it resembles dough.
Roll it out into a square. (I think techniques might differ here). After we rolled, we cut the dough into long, thin strips that we rolled into a pinwheel shape that eventually made a little ball of dough. Then we rolled out the little balls of dough into round, pancake shapes.
Now you're ready to cook your chapati. Put oil on the pan, throw on the chapati. Flip it once or twice, possibly adding a bit more oil for that top side. The goal is a nice, golden chapati. You'll know if there's too little oil because it'll be white rather than golden.
And voila! chapati!
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Kitchens
Last week, I also attended an agricultural field. Admittedly, I did little actual work since my agricultural knowledge is quite limited, but I did get the chance to talk to the villagers. We talked of many things, including cabbages and kings, but I want to focus on one particular moment. At first, the villagers told me to sit down. However, I've never been very good at sitting around watching people work around me.
So, like any good prairie girl, I found my way into the kitchen hoping to be helpful. But this kitchen looked very little like a Canadian kitchen, meaning I was basically no help at all. The kitchen was in a round, mud-brick hut with a thatched roof. The women were cooking over an open fire with massive pots. The mudbrick hut design seemed a little flawed to me because it had no chimney so the smoke could only go out some tiny windows, making it understandably quite smokey. The first portion of my help consisted of cutting one onion before having it taken away. At this point, I also witnessed freshly slaughtered chickens being plucked. I have to admit that I've never been quite that close to my food.
In fact, I'd carried one of those chickens to the car myself. I tried not to think of animal rights as I put the chicken in the trunk of the car. It actually gets worse. Not only were the chickens in the trunk, but we (yes, I need to implicate myself) put a bunch of bread on top of them. I wish I could say I heard hurt chicken noises from the trunk, but they seemed to come through the ordeal just fine. All the chickens here are free range so I guess I should not worry if their last hours of life were couped up in a trunk since they'd spent the rest of their lives roaming the streets of Bungoma.
The second time I came into the cooking hut, one of the women told me, "We're hard working. We should be paid." To which, I replied, "You should. I'll tell Iddi." Iddi was one of the community members running the show. Of course, all the women laughed.
The highlight of my kitchen experience was shoveling chicken into a pot with frying onions. I took a big metal paddle to move chicken bits from one large pot into another. Of course, this was done in a crouched position since the fire is in the ground. A lot of cooking here occurs bent over your pot whether you live in the city or country. My own gas burner is on the ground. Jikos, which are little charcoal burning stoves, also sit on the ground. People usually use jikos to cook anything requiring a lot of time, such as beans.
Strangely, shoveling chicken was not in itself the amusing part of the experience, but one of the village women's picture taking skills. I gave my camera to a villager to document my village cooking experience, but she didn't know to hold a camera. She kept turning it backwards with the lenses pointing at herself. With a little teaching though, she got the hang of it. As always happens when I bring out the camera, everyone then wants a picture. Often they want to have their picture taken with me. So I now have action shots of me cooking chicken and several with random village ladies.
Even though I learned a lot about agricultural and our programs, those ladies laughing with me while cooking are what I will remember. Kitchens are often my favourite part of the house so it's no surprise this village kitchen turned out to be my favourite part of the village. And whether the kitchen has an electric fridge and stove or just an open fire, there will always be women sharing laughter and stories. Oh and talking about their men, of course.
So, like any good prairie girl, I found my way into the kitchen hoping to be helpful. But this kitchen looked very little like a Canadian kitchen, meaning I was basically no help at all. The kitchen was in a round, mud-brick hut with a thatched roof. The women were cooking over an open fire with massive pots. The mudbrick hut design seemed a little flawed to me because it had no chimney so the smoke could only go out some tiny windows, making it understandably quite smokey. The first portion of my help consisted of cutting one onion before having it taken away. At this point, I also witnessed freshly slaughtered chickens being plucked. I have to admit that I've never been quite that close to my food.
In fact, I'd carried one of those chickens to the car myself. I tried not to think of animal rights as I put the chicken in the trunk of the car. It actually gets worse. Not only were the chickens in the trunk, but we (yes, I need to implicate myself) put a bunch of bread on top of them. I wish I could say I heard hurt chicken noises from the trunk, but they seemed to come through the ordeal just fine. All the chickens here are free range so I guess I should not worry if their last hours of life were couped up in a trunk since they'd spent the rest of their lives roaming the streets of Bungoma.
The second time I came into the cooking hut, one of the women told me, "We're hard working. We should be paid." To which, I replied, "You should. I'll tell Iddi." Iddi was one of the community members running the show. Of course, all the women laughed.
The highlight of my kitchen experience was shoveling chicken into a pot with frying onions. I took a big metal paddle to move chicken bits from one large pot into another. Of course, this was done in a crouched position since the fire is in the ground. A lot of cooking here occurs bent over your pot whether you live in the city or country. My own gas burner is on the ground. Jikos, which are little charcoal burning stoves, also sit on the ground. People usually use jikos to cook anything requiring a lot of time, such as beans.
Strangely, shoveling chicken was not in itself the amusing part of the experience, but one of the village women's picture taking skills. I gave my camera to a villager to document my village cooking experience, but she didn't know to hold a camera. She kept turning it backwards with the lenses pointing at herself. With a little teaching though, she got the hang of it. As always happens when I bring out the camera, everyone then wants a picture. Often they want to have their picture taken with me. So I now have action shots of me cooking chicken and several with random village ladies.
Even though I learned a lot about agricultural and our programs, those ladies laughing with me while cooking are what I will remember. Kitchens are often my favourite part of the house so it's no surprise this village kitchen turned out to be my favourite part of the village. And whether the kitchen has an electric fridge and stove or just an open fire, there will always be women sharing laughter and stories. Oh and talking about their men, of course.
Government working with the community?
This week has been jam packed with days spent in the field. I have to admit that I'm consistently impressed with Kenyans' passion. But also their ability to talk and their audience's ability to sit and listen. In almost every meeting, I am left tapping my feet hoping the speeches will end shortly while the Kenyans wait patiently for the talker (which they all are) to finish.
Ironically, some of the most formal meetings I've attended have been in small, rural villages in Kenya. First of all, every person stands up to introduce themselves. After introductions, the MC usually introduces other important guests then gives a synopsis of what will occur at the meeting. At one of meetings, we had a speech from the committee chairperson. Oh and if you have question, it's necessary to raise your hand then stand to speak your piece. My favourite moment occurred in one of these formal meetings when a chicken walked in to stand in the middle of the floor. He came and went from the meeting at will with no one paying him any mind. I kind of wished that I had that chicken's abiliy to come and go from the meeting.
Even though these meetings are more formal than I'm used to, I've had some powerful moments at them. The first happened this week during a training session for lobby group members. We were training them on the new constitution. Kenya swore in its new constitution in late August. The high in the country is amazing right now. Everyone is talking about how this constitution will change the government. They have high hopes that it will fight corruption and ensure the equal distribution of resources with the implementation of county, as well as national, governments. Historically, members of government have given their tribe, or local region, more resources. Ok, enough history.
My moment in the lobby group training came right at the end. One of the members commented that he wanted to see the lobby groups become finanically sustainable associations in the future. His comment was really cool because Valerie (the project manager) and I had discussed implementing the same idea the week before while writing the final report for this program. Valerie asked me to respond to his suggestion. So I was the one who got to tell them that we are submitting a proposal with that very suggestion to UNIFEM. We'd suggested that CREADIS give lobby groups a loan for start-up capital for income generating activities in order to make them finanically sustainable, as well as allowing them to pay for stationary, lunch and transport for people who attend their meetings. It was amazing to make this announcement because they all clapped for me. I then had to tell them that currently there is no money, but it's a wonderful thought for the moment. I just felt so special when they all clapped for me!
The next day I went to an Accountability Forum. The Kenyan governments has a number of devolved funds that communities can access in order to improve their communities. However, the issue is that these devolved funds often mysteriously go missing while proposed projects are either shoddily completed or not even started. CREADIS with its partners trained community monitors to monitor these projects. This particular day we had gathered stakeholders, including some government officials, to talk about the projects. Of course, we mostly spoke about the projects that had gone awry.
I think the most productive part of this forum was bringing the government officials together with the community members and NGOs to dialogue. Government officials have mentioned to me how NGOs can often make them feel as if they on trial, rather than trying to work with them. I felt the engagement on both sides to try to start working together. Of course, right now its all pretty words.
I did stand up at one point to try and make it a bit more than pretty words. The community members had been complaining about access to information at the government offices. The governance advisor suggested that the government offices post the information on notice boards. Then the community members started to discuss how this suggestion would be difficult to implement. At this point, I stood up to ask the government officials representing their offices if they could act as our lobby in the office to produce these notice boards. One of the officials promised to have the notice board posted in two days. We still need to follow up to find out if they've actually fulfilled their promises, but I'll keep you posted.
Ironically, some of the most formal meetings I've attended have been in small, rural villages in Kenya. First of all, every person stands up to introduce themselves. After introductions, the MC usually introduces other important guests then gives a synopsis of what will occur at the meeting. At one of meetings, we had a speech from the committee chairperson. Oh and if you have question, it's necessary to raise your hand then stand to speak your piece. My favourite moment occurred in one of these formal meetings when a chicken walked in to stand in the middle of the floor. He came and went from the meeting at will with no one paying him any mind. I kind of wished that I had that chicken's abiliy to come and go from the meeting.
Even though these meetings are more formal than I'm used to, I've had some powerful moments at them. The first happened this week during a training session for lobby group members. We were training them on the new constitution. Kenya swore in its new constitution in late August. The high in the country is amazing right now. Everyone is talking about how this constitution will change the government. They have high hopes that it will fight corruption and ensure the equal distribution of resources with the implementation of county, as well as national, governments. Historically, members of government have given their tribe, or local region, more resources. Ok, enough history.
My moment in the lobby group training came right at the end. One of the members commented that he wanted to see the lobby groups become finanically sustainable associations in the future. His comment was really cool because Valerie (the project manager) and I had discussed implementing the same idea the week before while writing the final report for this program. Valerie asked me to respond to his suggestion. So I was the one who got to tell them that we are submitting a proposal with that very suggestion to UNIFEM. We'd suggested that CREADIS give lobby groups a loan for start-up capital for income generating activities in order to make them finanically sustainable, as well as allowing them to pay for stationary, lunch and transport for people who attend their meetings. It was amazing to make this announcement because they all clapped for me. I then had to tell them that currently there is no money, but it's a wonderful thought for the moment. I just felt so special when they all clapped for me!
The next day I went to an Accountability Forum. The Kenyan governments has a number of devolved funds that communities can access in order to improve their communities. However, the issue is that these devolved funds often mysteriously go missing while proposed projects are either shoddily completed or not even started. CREADIS with its partners trained community monitors to monitor these projects. This particular day we had gathered stakeholders, including some government officials, to talk about the projects. Of course, we mostly spoke about the projects that had gone awry.
I think the most productive part of this forum was bringing the government officials together with the community members and NGOs to dialogue. Government officials have mentioned to me how NGOs can often make them feel as if they on trial, rather than trying to work with them. I felt the engagement on both sides to try to start working together. Of course, right now its all pretty words.
I did stand up at one point to try and make it a bit more than pretty words. The community members had been complaining about access to information at the government offices. The governance advisor suggested that the government offices post the information on notice boards. Then the community members started to discuss how this suggestion would be difficult to implement. At this point, I stood up to ask the government officials representing their offices if they could act as our lobby in the office to produce these notice boards. One of the officials promised to have the notice board posted in two days. We still need to follow up to find out if they've actually fulfilled their promises, but I'll keep you posted.
Government working with the community?
This week has been jam packed with days spent in the field. I have to admit that I'm consistently impressed with Kenyans' passion. But also their ability to talk and their audience's ability to sit and listen. In almost every meeting, I am left tapping my feet hoping the speeches will end shortly while the Kenyans wait patiently for the talker (which they all are) to finish.
Ironically, some of the most formal meetings I've attended have been in small, rural villages in Kenya. First of all, every person stands up to introduce themselves. After introductions, the MC usually introduces other important guests then gives a synopsis of what will occur at the meeting. At one of meetings, we had a speech from the committee chairperson. Oh and if you have question, it's necessary to raise your hand then stand to speak your piece. My favourite moment occurred in one of these formal meetings when a chicken walked in to stand in the middle of the floor. He came and went from the meeting at will with no one paying him any mind. I kind of wished that I had that chicken's abiliy to come and go from the meeting.
Even though these meetings are more formal than I'm used to, I've had some powerful moments at them. The first happened this week during a training session for lobby group members. We were training them on the new constitution. Kenya swore in its new constitution in late August. The high in the country is amazing right now. Everyone is talking about how this constitution will change the government. They have high hopes that it will fight corruption and ensure the equal distribution of resources with the implementation of county, as well as national, governments. Historically, members of government have given their tribe, or local region, more resources. Ok, enough history.
My moment in the lobby group training came right at the end. One of the members commented that he wanted to see the lobby groups become finanically sustainable associations in the future. His comment was really cool because Valerie (the project manager) and I had discussed implementing the same idea the week before while writing the final report for this program. Valerie asked me to respond to his suggestion. So I was the one who got to tell them that we are submitting a proposal with that very suggestion to UNIFEM. We'd suggested that CREADIS give lobby groups a loan for start-up capital for income generating activities in order to make them finanically sustainable, as well as allowing them to pay for stationary, lunch and transport for people who attend their meetings. It was amazing to make this announcement because they all clapped for me. I then had to tell them that currently there is no money, but it's a wonderful thought for the moment. I just felt so special when they all clapped for me!
The next day I went to an Accountability Forum. The Kenyan governments has a number of devolved funds that communities can access in order to improve their communities. However, the issue is that these devolved funds often mysteriously go missing while proposed projects are either shoddily completed or not even started. CREADIS with its partners trained community monitors to monitor these projects. This particular day we had gathered stakeholders, including some government officials, to talk about the projects. Of course, we mostly spoke about the projects that had gone awry.
I think the most productive part of this forum was bringing the government officials together with the community members and NGOs to dialogue. Government officials have mentioned to me how NGOs can often make them feel as if they on trial, rather than trying to work with them. I felt the engagement on both sides to try to start working together. Of course, right now its all pretty words.
I did stand up at one point to try and make it a bit more than pretty words. The community members had been complaining about access to information at the government offices. The governance advisor suggested that the government offices post the information on notice boards. Then the community members started to discuss how this suggestion would be difficult to implement. At this point, I stood up to ask the government officials representing their offices if they could act as our lobby in the office to produce these notice boards. One of the officials promised to have the notice board posted in two days. We still need to follow up to find out if they've actually fulfilled their promises, but I'll keep you posted.
Ironically, some of the most formal meetings I've attended have been in small, rural villages in Kenya. First of all, every person stands up to introduce themselves. After introductions, the MC usually introduces other important guests then gives a synopsis of what will occur at the meeting. At one of meetings, we had a speech from the committee chairperson. Oh and if you have question, it's necessary to raise your hand then stand to speak your piece. My favourite moment occurred in one of these formal meetings when a chicken walked in to stand in the middle of the floor. He came and went from the meeting at will with no one paying him any mind. I kind of wished that I had that chicken's abiliy to come and go from the meeting.
Even though these meetings are more formal than I'm used to, I've had some powerful moments at them. The first happened this week during a training session for lobby group members. We were training them on the new constitution. Kenya swore in its new constitution in late August. The high in the country is amazing right now. Everyone is talking about how this constitution will change the government. They have high hopes that it will fight corruption and ensure the equal distribution of resources with the implementation of county, as well as national, governments. Historically, members of government have given their tribe, or local region, more resources. Ok, enough history.
My moment in the lobby group training came right at the end. One of the members commented that he wanted to see the lobby groups become finanically sustainable associations in the future. His comment was really cool because Valerie (the project manager) and I had discussed implementing the same idea the week before while writing the final report for this program. Valerie asked me to respond to his suggestion. So I was the one who got to tell them that we are submitting a proposal with that very suggestion to UNIFEM. We'd suggested that CREADIS give lobby groups a loan for start-up capital for income generating activities in order to make them finanically sustainable, as well as allowing them to pay for stationary, lunch and transport for people who attend their meetings. It was amazing to make this announcement because they all clapped for me. I then had to tell them that currently there is no money, but it's a wonderful thought for the moment. I just felt so special when they all clapped for me!
The next day I went to an Accountability Forum. The Kenyan governments has a number of devolved funds that communities can access in order to improve their communities. However, the issue is that these devolved funds often mysteriously go missing while proposed projects are either shoddily completed or not even started. CREADIS with its partners trained community monitors to monitor these projects. This particular day we had gathered stakeholders, including some government officials, to talk about the projects. Of course, we mostly spoke about the projects that had gone awry.
I think the most productive part of this forum was bringing the government officials together with the community members and NGOs to dialogue. Government officials have mentioned to me how NGOs can often make them feel as if they on trial, rather than trying to work with them. I felt the engagement on both sides to try to start working together. Of course, right now its all pretty words.
I did stand up at one point to try and make it a bit more than pretty words. The community members had been complaining about access to information at the government offices. The governance advisor suggested that the government offices post the information on notice boards. Then the community members started to discuss how this suggestion would be difficult to implement. At this point, I stood up to ask the government officials representing their offices if they could act as our lobby in the office to produce these notice boards. One of the officials promised to have the notice board posted in two days. We still need to follow up to find out if they've actually fulfilled their promises, but I'll keep you posted.
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Fruits of Malaba
This weekend my co-worker took me to Malaba. I felt like a true Kenyan heading just across the border to Malaba, Uganda to pick up some cheap foodstuffs and fabrics. I even sat beside a woman on the matatu who was going to buy body sprays to sell at a profit, of course, in Bungoma.
Now then, I only felt this way after I realized we were going into Malaba, Uganda. There is also a Malaba, Kenya. Due to this confusion, I actually forgot my passport back in Bungoma. Apparently, they usually don't stop mzungus (white people) heading into Uganda, but it was my lucky day to be caught by the customs officer. After a lengthy lecture about how I was doing something terribly illegal, I had to take the matatu (basically 15 seater bus that usually holds 20-25 people) back to Bungoma for my passport. At this point, I realized I'm definitely not part of the East African community even if I'm living like a Kenyan.
After all that hassle, I went shopping. Malaba was basically a sleepy little town with one street full of shops. Centi fitted me out with some African garb. I'm now the proud owner of a long, green dress, black sandals and fabric to be made up into a proper african outfit. I just got into work and got lots of compliments on my new African digs. I think my favourite was that I look "yummy." I feel pretty good about looking "yummy."
She also helped me buy food for the next month of so. I bought some rice, ground nuts and green grams. Ground nuts are a type of local nut that everyone eats. They taste a bit like peanuts, but better. We also had ground nut stew at the restaurant. I really like the ground nut stew. Centi promised to show me how to make it. So hopefully I'll be posting a recipe for ground nut stew sometime soon. Green grams are a type of bean. I'm looking forward to green grams and rice sometime this week.
Monday, September 13, 2010
Antigonish Movement!
So I have not been good at posting and this one is actually about Nova Scotia! So Sorry for the mistakes. I really wanted a post about the Antigonish Movement though. It was a grassroots movement that began in, you guessed it, Antigonish in the 1920s. This movement is important to me because it’s the basis of the Coady International Institute (a.k.a. the lovely people that are sending me overseas). I want to explain the movement in some depth because by doing so I will be able to explain what I’m doing overseas.
Two men, Fr. Moses Coady and Fr. Jimmy Tompkins, started the whole Antigonish Movement, although Moses Coady generally gets more credit and definitely gets quoted more frequently. So you’re probably asking by now, what the heck was this movement? Well, in the 1920s people in Nova Scotia were in desperate economic straits.
Generally, they worked for exploitive middle men who sold their goods, such as fish or coal, at much higher costs than which bought them from the Nova Scotians. Moses Coady and Jimmy Tompkins saw the inherent corruption within in this system. So they said to themselves, “Why bother with these middlemen? The people could do it themselves with a bit of education.” So that’s exactly what they did. Moses Coady began adult education programs surrounding practical skills that would immediately affect the lives of the people. Communities began building their own canneries, selling their products to the market directly, starting credit unions and any other project they felt their community needed. Summed up, Moses Coady preached a message of self-reliance by saying people could be “Masters of their own destiny.”
Now you might ask, “What does this have to do with contemporary development work in Kenya?” Well, the Coady still bases its work on the ideas of its founders. I will be partnering with an organization called Community Research in Environment and Development Initiative (CREADIS). Their work centres on educating people in the Bungoma District of Kenya so that they can help make their communities stronger. This approach to development focuses on looking at a community’s assets in order to improve upon them and make lives better for all. And that’s how I’ve become the newest member of the Antigonish Movement.
Two men, Fr. Moses Coady and Fr. Jimmy Tompkins, started the whole Antigonish Movement, although Moses Coady generally gets more credit and definitely gets quoted more frequently. So you’re probably asking by now, what the heck was this movement? Well, in the 1920s people in Nova Scotia were in desperate economic straits.
Generally, they worked for exploitive middle men who sold their goods, such as fish or coal, at much higher costs than which bought them from the Nova Scotians. Moses Coady and Jimmy Tompkins saw the inherent corruption within in this system. So they said to themselves, “Why bother with these middlemen? The people could do it themselves with a bit of education.” So that’s exactly what they did. Moses Coady began adult education programs surrounding practical skills that would immediately affect the lives of the people. Communities began building their own canneries, selling their products to the market directly, starting credit unions and any other project they felt their community needed. Summed up, Moses Coady preached a message of self-reliance by saying people could be “Masters of their own destiny.”
Now you might ask, “What does this have to do with contemporary development work in Kenya?” Well, the Coady still bases its work on the ideas of its founders. I will be partnering with an organization called Community Research in Environment and Development Initiative (CREADIS). Their work centres on educating people in the Bungoma District of Kenya so that they can help make their communities stronger. This approach to development focuses on looking at a community’s assets in order to improve upon them and make lives better for all. And that’s how I’ve become the newest member of the Antigonish Movement.
Bungoma Town
I’ve been in Bungoma for the past 4 days. I have to admit that my travel exhaustion made the first couple of days a bit of a wash. I basically went to work and to sleep. But I’m settling in nicely and starting to feel right at home. I’m living in a hotel for the first week and a half that I’m here so it’s been quite cushy. I have a largish room with a flushable western-ish toilet (no toilet seat) and even a little breakfast nook in the entrance. I fully expect my living standard to drop by the end of next week. I’ll give you an update on that though at the end of next week.
In some ways, it’s much easier to report on the amusing tourist things in Nairobi than my experience of Bungoma. It is at once larger and smaller than I expected. I’m happy to say that I can get almost anything in town, but it’s rural enough that cows, donkeys, goats, and chickens are common sights along the road. The first morning I woke up to the sound of a rooster cock-a-doodle doing. He actually cock-a-doodle doed several times that morning. You’d think once would be enough. The night also comes alive with the sounds of crickets, mosquitoes buzzing and even lights up with fireflies. In a nutshell, I feel closer to nature than I’ve ever felt in a Western city.
The people are very friendly. They consistently tell me, “Kariboo” (welcome in kiswahili). I’m surprised by how much Kiswahili you hear in the streets. I’m trying to pick up as much as possible. My co-workers speak Kiswahili to each other unless addressing me or Caleb. Everyone speaks English though so it’ll take some effort to learn Kiswahili. I think I’m going to hire a teacher.
The most exciting thing I’ve done since coming to Bungoma is participate in evaluating CREADIS’s HIV/AIDS programming by helping them conduct interviews. We drove from village to village asking women and men about how their lives have changed since CREADIS entered it. I was at once happy that their lives have gotten considerably better, but also sad at their dependency on the organization. We really want to strive towards making people independent. Some of the women told us they prayed to God that CREADIS would continue giving them support.
Others were more positive about their new livelihoods. I want to tell you two of the stories that I found particularly inspirational. One woman cared for two vulnerable children. She, herself, was HIV +. Unlike many other people she is living openly, or as they say here, “living positively.” Currently, she cares for 14 children who have nowhere else to go. She feeds them from the money she makes selling vegetables. Although this feat alone is phenomenal, I found her desire to support others the most amazing. She spoke of how she’d received counselling and support from CREADIS. She started her own support groups independent of CREADIS with those skills. Now, she gives support to others. She’s also an example to her community because she not only living with HIV, rather than dying as so many others, but she’s also succeeding.
The other young man spoke to me about raising his family from poverty to at least having enough food to eat. His parents and his sister died leaving him to raise his younger brother and nephew. CREADIS gave him some chickens, which laid eggs and made more chickens as chickens are wont to do. With the profit from the chickens, he bought a goat. Then he sold the goat in order to lease some land. Now he’s growing his own food for him and the children. More positively, the children are back in school with full bellies making them able to learn.
These are just two of the stories that I heard while interviewing people. I feel so lucky that I’ve had the chance to ask people about their lives.
In some ways, it’s much easier to report on the amusing tourist things in Nairobi than my experience of Bungoma. It is at once larger and smaller than I expected. I’m happy to say that I can get almost anything in town, but it’s rural enough that cows, donkeys, goats, and chickens are common sights along the road. The first morning I woke up to the sound of a rooster cock-a-doodle doing. He actually cock-a-doodle doed several times that morning. You’d think once would be enough. The night also comes alive with the sounds of crickets, mosquitoes buzzing and even lights up with fireflies. In a nutshell, I feel closer to nature than I’ve ever felt in a Western city.
The people are very friendly. They consistently tell me, “Kariboo” (welcome in kiswahili). I’m surprised by how much Kiswahili you hear in the streets. I’m trying to pick up as much as possible. My co-workers speak Kiswahili to each other unless addressing me or Caleb. Everyone speaks English though so it’ll take some effort to learn Kiswahili. I think I’m going to hire a teacher.
The most exciting thing I’ve done since coming to Bungoma is participate in evaluating CREADIS’s HIV/AIDS programming by helping them conduct interviews. We drove from village to village asking women and men about how their lives have changed since CREADIS entered it. I was at once happy that their lives have gotten considerably better, but also sad at their dependency on the organization. We really want to strive towards making people independent. Some of the women told us they prayed to God that CREADIS would continue giving them support.
Others were more positive about their new livelihoods. I want to tell you two of the stories that I found particularly inspirational. One woman cared for two vulnerable children. She, herself, was HIV +. Unlike many other people she is living openly, or as they say here, “living positively.” Currently, she cares for 14 children who have nowhere else to go. She feeds them from the money she makes selling vegetables. Although this feat alone is phenomenal, I found her desire to support others the most amazing. She spoke of how she’d received counselling and support from CREADIS. She started her own support groups independent of CREADIS with those skills. Now, she gives support to others. She’s also an example to her community because she not only living with HIV, rather than dying as so many others, but she’s also succeeding.
The other young man spoke to me about raising his family from poverty to at least having enough food to eat. His parents and his sister died leaving him to raise his younger brother and nephew. CREADIS gave him some chickens, which laid eggs and made more chickens as chickens are wont to do. With the profit from the chickens, he bought a goat. Then he sold the goat in order to lease some land. Now he’s growing his own food for him and the children. More positively, the children are back in school with full bellies making them able to learn.
These are just two of the stories that I heard while interviewing people. I feel so lucky that I’ve had the chance to ask people about their lives.
Elephants, Giraffes and Rhinos, Oh My!
So I’ve finally arrived in Kenya after what felt like many mini-journeys. I first heard I was going to Bungoma, Kenya at the beginning of May while living in Kingston. As you all know, I took a journey back to the past by going home. Then I visited a completely new part of the country since orientation was in Nova Scotia. As you can probably guess, my flight to Bumgoma was anything but direct. I spent a day in Paris and a day and night in Nairobi with a morning in Kisumu before finally arriving in Bungoma last Wednesday.
Well, I’ve already been to Paris, but this time around I saw something that I have been meaning to catch for a while. I saw the unicorn tapestries at le Musée du Moyen Age. I’m not sure what it was about these tapestries that moved me. I stared at them for ages. It is a series of 6 tapestries of a blonde woman with a unicorn and lion in each. The first five represent the five senses: Taste, Smell, Touch, Sight and Hearing. The last is more ambiguous because it is simply titled, “Mon seul desir (My one desire).” I think I’m drawn to them because the female figure looks so powerful in each. There’s also something special about a tapestry because of its size. It’s hard not to feel awed by figures twice your size that used to grace the great hall of some noble. The colours in the unicorn tapestries are also particularly vivid. Quite ironically the only faded bits are those that were retouched using chemical dyes because of water damage. The vegetable dyes are standing the test of time, while our own chemical concoctions quickly wasted away.
After Paris, I took another red-eye flight to Nairobi. Now then I wouldn’t want to leave Nairobi too quickly. I had the pleasure of meeting Alissa, another volunteer, and her supervisor, Grace, who both work for another development NGO near Nairobi. My time in Nairobi became all about the animals. Even our hostel was called the Wildebeest Camp, although, disappointingly, there were no wildebeests to be found.
However, I did get to go to Sheldrick’s Elephant Orphanage. Just like the name suggests, this organization takes care of baby elephants. Now then one would think that a baby elephant would just need a lot of food, but there is so much more to the process. Elephants have a complex social structure, but they are also highly emotional. A baby elephant will often die of loneliness if they not found quickly enough or of stress. Sheldrick’s transports the babies by air to reduce the amount of stress on the newly rescue orphan. Now one might ask why the herds do not simply take care of these orphaned elephants themselves. Well, a baby elephant requires milk for at least the first 2 years, but usually 3, of its life. If its mother dies, unfortunately usually from poaching poaching although other natural causes do occur, the other female elephants do not have enough milk to give the orphan. But the orphan will die without milk. At this point, Sheldrick’s steps in. The kicker is that baby elephants are allergic to cow’s milk and will often die if given it. So Sheldrick’s imports baby formula from the UK for these little tuskers-to-be (no tusks yet when that little). I have to admit that elephants are the biggest babies I’ve ever seen with their own bottles. One of them was even able to hold her own bottle with her trunk. It made me want a trunk I must admit. Imagine all the things you could hold with a trunk . . . peanuts . .. mirrors . .. people . .. but I digress. The orphaned elephants will eventually be reintroduced into the wild where they will join a herd. Astonishingly, reintroduction takes 8 to 10 years. I did not realize that elephants were very close to humans in their maturing time. So these little tuskers have years to go before they are even adolescents.
My other animal adventure came in the form of the Giraffe Centre. In the 1970s , some people adopted a Rothschild giraffe because they were quickly becoming extinct. This one adopted giraffe has since multiplied into several that the centre now breeds with the small giraffes being reintroduced into the wild. The best part of the giraffe centre is that you could pet them and feed them. I particularly enjoyed their ears. They just look so big and floppy, but they’re surprisingly mobile and I think could be used as a form of communication. Giraffes also have the absolutely neatest tongues. These long, agile grey, prickly pine tongues will take food right out of your hand. And they’ll also take food from your lips. So I have to admit that I was already kissing Kenyans the first day I got here. Erin the giraffe convinced me that I needed some loving. Although her kisses were a little slobbier than I usually enjoy. And she was quite free with her favours because I saw her kissing lots of other people, including my friends. So ya, don’t expect your giraffe to be faithful. They’ll pucker up for anyone with some food on their lips.
After my foray into Nairboi’s National Park, I left the next morning for Kisumu. Kisumu is just a hop away from Bungoma. I arrived at the town I’ll be living in last Wednesday afternoon.
Well, I’ve already been to Paris, but this time around I saw something that I have been meaning to catch for a while. I saw the unicorn tapestries at le Musée du Moyen Age. I’m not sure what it was about these tapestries that moved me. I stared at them for ages. It is a series of 6 tapestries of a blonde woman with a unicorn and lion in each. The first five represent the five senses: Taste, Smell, Touch, Sight and Hearing. The last is more ambiguous because it is simply titled, “Mon seul desir (My one desire).” I think I’m drawn to them because the female figure looks so powerful in each. There’s also something special about a tapestry because of its size. It’s hard not to feel awed by figures twice your size that used to grace the great hall of some noble. The colours in the unicorn tapestries are also particularly vivid. Quite ironically the only faded bits are those that were retouched using chemical dyes because of water damage. The vegetable dyes are standing the test of time, while our own chemical concoctions quickly wasted away.
After Paris, I took another red-eye flight to Nairobi. Now then I wouldn’t want to leave Nairobi too quickly. I had the pleasure of meeting Alissa, another volunteer, and her supervisor, Grace, who both work for another development NGO near Nairobi. My time in Nairobi became all about the animals. Even our hostel was called the Wildebeest Camp, although, disappointingly, there were no wildebeests to be found.
However, I did get to go to Sheldrick’s Elephant Orphanage. Just like the name suggests, this organization takes care of baby elephants. Now then one would think that a baby elephant would just need a lot of food, but there is so much more to the process. Elephants have a complex social structure, but they are also highly emotional. A baby elephant will often die of loneliness if they not found quickly enough or of stress. Sheldrick’s transports the babies by air to reduce the amount of stress on the newly rescue orphan. Now one might ask why the herds do not simply take care of these orphaned elephants themselves. Well, a baby elephant requires milk for at least the first 2 years, but usually 3, of its life. If its mother dies, unfortunately usually from poaching poaching although other natural causes do occur, the other female elephants do not have enough milk to give the orphan. But the orphan will die without milk. At this point, Sheldrick’s steps in. The kicker is that baby elephants are allergic to cow’s milk and will often die if given it. So Sheldrick’s imports baby formula from the UK for these little tuskers-to-be (no tusks yet when that little). I have to admit that elephants are the biggest babies I’ve ever seen with their own bottles. One of them was even able to hold her own bottle with her trunk. It made me want a trunk I must admit. Imagine all the things you could hold with a trunk . . . peanuts . .. mirrors . .. people . .. but I digress. The orphaned elephants will eventually be reintroduced into the wild where they will join a herd. Astonishingly, reintroduction takes 8 to 10 years. I did not realize that elephants were very close to humans in their maturing time. So these little tuskers have years to go before they are even adolescents.
My other animal adventure came in the form of the Giraffe Centre. In the 1970s , some people adopted a Rothschild giraffe because they were quickly becoming extinct. This one adopted giraffe has since multiplied into several that the centre now breeds with the small giraffes being reintroduced into the wild. The best part of the giraffe centre is that you could pet them and feed them. I particularly enjoyed their ears. They just look so big and floppy, but they’re surprisingly mobile and I think could be used as a form of communication. Giraffes also have the absolutely neatest tongues. These long, agile grey, prickly pine tongues will take food right out of your hand. And they’ll also take food from your lips. So I have to admit that I was already kissing Kenyans the first day I got here. Erin the giraffe convinced me that I needed some loving. Although her kisses were a little slobbier than I usually enjoy. And she was quite free with her favours because I saw her kissing lots of other people, including my friends. So ya, don’t expect your giraffe to be faithful. They’ll pucker up for anyone with some food on their lips.
After my foray into Nairboi’s National Park, I left the next morning for Kisumu. Kisumu is just a hop away from Bungoma. I arrived at the town I’ll be living in last Wednesday afternoon.
Final Days in Nova Scotia
I’m actually in the Paris airport trying to wrap-up my thoughts on my orientation. It was a really amazing experience that I’m having trouble putting into words. So I’m just going to concentrate on the last day and hope it gives you some idea of the wonderfulness that was orientation (somewhat shockingly since I had expected to be bored shittless).
We started the day off with evaluating the program. For me, I felt my facilitation skills had improved the most in the past three weeks. We had talked a lot about adult education and, to this day, I find these ideas simmering in the back of my head. The biggest adjustment in the adult education model is seeing each of your learners as someone with experience upon which you have to build. It becomes about creating a safe environment for each learner to come to a better understanding of the subject matter by themselves. Then we had the pleasure of working with facilitators who followed this teaching method. It was nice to be able to draw on one’s experience in the learning process. They also taught through games that encouraged us to understand concepts on an intuitive level, rather than just on paper. I found it a wonderful way to learn and a way that I want to emulate in the future.
At lunch, I had the pleasure of delivering a gift to the Antigonish Women’s Centre. All of the Coady participants, development workers from all over the world who have come to study at the Coady, and youth associates were invited to the annual women’s picnic during our second week of orientation. The women of Antigonish rolled out the red carpet by cooking wonderful food and providing great conversation. The female associates re-wrote the lyrics of “I am your Sunshine” to represent solidarity, as well as brought a piece of fabric for every woman to sign a message of solidarity. It turned into a collage of messages in all languages. We gave the fabric to the Women’s Centre as a gift, while at the same time receiving a tour. I found out that they do innovative programming, especially around sexual assault/abuse. The Antigonish community became as much a part of my orientation experience as the Coady Institute itself.
During the afternoon, we spent the day strengthening our relationships with the other youth associates. We had all become very close in the last three weeks. But the best, and saddest, part of the day was yet to come. We went to a farewell supper with all the participants at Cristal Cliffs. This place once again highlighted for me the beauty of Nova Scotia. It was a beach right on the ocean with trees lining the shore on either side. At this point, I said good bye to all of the participants, including the Kenyans who had already welcomed me to Kenya. They had taught me some Kiswahili, shared about their country, and shared contacts in country for me. In fact, tomorrow morning I will be welcomed by two women from the organization of one of the participants who has no stake whatsoever in the Youth in Partnership Program. From my experience with the Kenyans, I have found people to be consistently welcoming. At this time, I also said good-bye to my fellow youth associates with the promise to keep in touch.
The party was bittersweet, but the bus ride to Halifax was sheer excitement. My boyfriend, Kevin, came to spend the weekend with me in Halifax. We had a bit of a pirate theme going on actually. We took a harbour cruise, labelled pirate cruise, on a sailboat. My very first sailboat ride! I even helped raise one of the sails. I say help because it gets heavy and Kevin kinda took over near the end. But I have the pictures to prove that I did most of the work. But I have a better “ARGH, Matey.”Then we ate some lobster for dinner, or at least I did. And to continue with our pirate theme we went to the local theatre festival to watch an adaptation of Treasure Island. I love outdoor theatre and it was definitely a winner. We said our goodbyes at the airport since we happened to be taking the same flights home. And now I’m halfway to Kenya more excited than ever.
We started the day off with evaluating the program. For me, I felt my facilitation skills had improved the most in the past three weeks. We had talked a lot about adult education and, to this day, I find these ideas simmering in the back of my head. The biggest adjustment in the adult education model is seeing each of your learners as someone with experience upon which you have to build. It becomes about creating a safe environment for each learner to come to a better understanding of the subject matter by themselves. Then we had the pleasure of working with facilitators who followed this teaching method. It was nice to be able to draw on one’s experience in the learning process. They also taught through games that encouraged us to understand concepts on an intuitive level, rather than just on paper. I found it a wonderful way to learn and a way that I want to emulate in the future.
At lunch, I had the pleasure of delivering a gift to the Antigonish Women’s Centre. All of the Coady participants, development workers from all over the world who have come to study at the Coady, and youth associates were invited to the annual women’s picnic during our second week of orientation. The women of Antigonish rolled out the red carpet by cooking wonderful food and providing great conversation. The female associates re-wrote the lyrics of “I am your Sunshine” to represent solidarity, as well as brought a piece of fabric for every woman to sign a message of solidarity. It turned into a collage of messages in all languages. We gave the fabric to the Women’s Centre as a gift, while at the same time receiving a tour. I found out that they do innovative programming, especially around sexual assault/abuse. The Antigonish community became as much a part of my orientation experience as the Coady Institute itself.
During the afternoon, we spent the day strengthening our relationships with the other youth associates. We had all become very close in the last three weeks. But the best, and saddest, part of the day was yet to come. We went to a farewell supper with all the participants at Cristal Cliffs. This place once again highlighted for me the beauty of Nova Scotia. It was a beach right on the ocean with trees lining the shore on either side. At this point, I said good bye to all of the participants, including the Kenyans who had already welcomed me to Kenya. They had taught me some Kiswahili, shared about their country, and shared contacts in country for me. In fact, tomorrow morning I will be welcomed by two women from the organization of one of the participants who has no stake whatsoever in the Youth in Partnership Program. From my experience with the Kenyans, I have found people to be consistently welcoming. At this time, I also said good-bye to my fellow youth associates with the promise to keep in touch.
The party was bittersweet, but the bus ride to Halifax was sheer excitement. My boyfriend, Kevin, came to spend the weekend with me in Halifax. We had a bit of a pirate theme going on actually. We took a harbour cruise, labelled pirate cruise, on a sailboat. My very first sailboat ride! I even helped raise one of the sails. I say help because it gets heavy and Kevin kinda took over near the end. But I have the pictures to prove that I did most of the work. But I have a better “ARGH, Matey.”Then we ate some lobster for dinner, or at least I did. And to continue with our pirate theme we went to the local theatre festival to watch an adaptation of Treasure Island. I love outdoor theatre and it was definitely a winner. We said our goodbyes at the airport since we happened to be taking the same flights home. And now I’m halfway to Kenya more excited than ever.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Mustard Pickles
I wanted to share with everyone a recipe that I found while in Nova Scotia. I have to thank my friend's mother, Carol Bray, for sharing it with me. She lives on a farm and shared this lovely pickle recipe with me. I haven't tried it yet, but when I start living closer to the land I will definitely start to pickle. Someone should try it and get back to me though.
Mustard Pickles
Day 1
7 cucumbers
5 onions
1 c coarse salt
Peel and remove seeds from cucumbers. cut in small pieces. cut onions into small pieces and mix with cucumbers.
Sprinkle salt over cucumbers and onions and let stand overnight.
Day 2
3 c sugar
1/2 c flour
1 T dry mustard
1 T tumeric
1T celery seed
2 c vinegar
In the morning drain and rinse the cucumbers with cold water.
Add vegetables to sauce mixture and heat slowly. Cool until cucumbers are translucent. Ladle into hot sterile bottles.
And voila! You have pickles!
Mustard Pickles
Day 1
7 cucumbers
5 onions
1 c coarse salt
Peel and remove seeds from cucumbers. cut in small pieces. cut onions into small pieces and mix with cucumbers.
Sprinkle salt over cucumbers and onions and let stand overnight.
Day 2
3 c sugar
1/2 c flour
1 T dry mustard
1 T tumeric
1T celery seed
2 c vinegar
In the morning drain and rinse the cucumbers with cold water.
Add vegetables to sauce mixture and heat slowly. Cool until cucumbers are translucent. Ladle into hot sterile bottles.
And voila! You have pickles!
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Wowed at the Pow Wow!
So the first week of my orientation has passed. I'm amazed at how quickly the orientation is going. I'm also really impressed by all the cultural opportunities I've had since my last post. I went to the annual Coady Welcome Social, a Pow Wow and a Joel Plaskett concert.
The Coady Social was basically an opportunity for the Coady to interact with the community at large. Everyone in the Antigonish area was invited to meet the participants. Every fall the Coady, and greater Antigonish, welcome participants from around the world who come here for leadership training. The Coady took out all the stops to show them Nova Scotian culture. They included musical performances from a First Nations woman from the Micmac band, an Acadian singer, a gaelic singer, and a group of local feminist women's choir. They were all fantastic. But, honestly, they just reminded me of the wonderful diversity of Canada. I feel so lucky to get to discover more about the culture of Nova Scotia.
Then, even more excitingly, I went to my first Pow Wow. I have to admit that I felt somewhat guilty that my first pow wow occurred thousands of miles away from home. Indigenous people make up a large portion of Saskatchewan's population so it seems somewhat ridiculous that my first Pow Wow wasn't until I was 23 years old and living in Nova Scotia. One of the elders asked me why I hadn't been to one since loads happen in Western Canada. He also said you don't need to be invited. Of course, I couldn't fathom going to a Pow Wow without an invitation. I actually felt privileged and honoured to be invited to this one. It was really wonderful to celebrate with the MicMac. I also saw a lot of other people from outside of that community at the Pow Wow. I didn't realize they were so inclusive. It's even inclusive among the different First Nation peoples because the dancers come from all over.
My favourite part of the Pow Wow was the dance for the dead. They sing a song of mourning and dance for the people who have died this past year. The family and friends of those who have lost people are invited into the circle to dance with the dancers. Then, and here comes the coolest part, other members of the community are invited to come into the circle to shake hands or give each mourner a hug. It is a beautiful example of group healing. I loved dancing in the circle as well. I felt like I was being embraced by the community because others were dancing beside you and around you. Even though I've danced much closer to people in clubs, I have never felt solidarity like in the Pow Wow circle. Usually I am focused on keeping my little huddle of people together with other dancers buffeting us on all sides. But in the Pow Wow circle everyone was welcome and we moved in one continuous line and direction. I liked it. If you've never been to a Pow Wow, I'd suggest going to check one out. We're so lucky in Canada to have diverse cultures in our own backyards if we'd only explore them.
Today, our group facilitator explored another First Nations tradition with us. We participated in a Talking Circle. I think a talking circle is a fairly universal practice, but basically you hold a object (usually a rock or a stick) and whoever has the object is the person who is speaking. The group listens to the person's thoughts without interrupting before passing it on. I really like this practice because it's not so much about responding to other people as sharing your own truth or experience.
I found it to be an incredibly moving experience. The rest of the youth associates shared such beautiful, wonderful thoughts. All I can say is that I feel privileged to be a part of this group.
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
First Days at the Coady!
So I've finally arrived for my orientation at the Coady International Institute located in St. Francis Xavier in Antigonish, Nova Scotia. And it's true, Nova Scotia is beautiful and friendly. Everyone at the Coady is always smiling and laughing together. I'm very happy to be part of such a great support network. I think most of you know that I'm going to Kenya through Coady's Youth in Partnership Program, funded by the Canadian International Development Agency. Definitely look into the program if you are interested in development work. For this post, I'm just going to share some of my best moments from the first 3 days I've been here.
The first day of orientation included introductions to oodles of people. However, there was one very special group of people that I had the pleasure to meet. The Coady also runs a Diploma program for experienced development workers from all over the world. It turned out that there are a ton of Kenyans in this year's program. As a mixer, we (the interns) and the diploma participants played Lifeboats. So we got into lifeboats with people who shared your birthday month or your favourite colour (December and Blue for the curious). When it came time to get in a lifeboat with my fellow countrymen I became an honourary Kenyan. The Kenyan participants enveloped me in a big hug to welcome me. I felt truly welcomed. Dorcas, a participant who lives near Bungoma, where my placement will be taking place, gave me a Kenyan name. She called me Nafula. Now you may think it's an arbitrary choice, but I assure you Kenyans don't just give arbitrary names. She said that they base your name on the time of year in which you were born. Since I was born in the depths of a Canadian winter, she called me Nafula, meaning rain. Of course, snow doesn't exist in Kenya so not so many words for it in her language. I suppose rain will do. I am honoured by this name because her daughter is also named Nafula. I felt so proud to already have a Kenyan name. I'll be sure to tell it to the friends I make in Kenya.
I'm not in Kenya yet though so right now I'm busy socializing with the other interns. One of them attended St. Francis Xavier as an undergraduate so she took us for a hike. We hiked through a forest up to a ridge from which we could see the ocean. The hike took us through green, mossy forests, but also through some lower swampy areas. I knew we were in Canada because we saw a beaver dam. Go Canada's national animal! I'm so happy to have experienced some of the landscape in Nova Scotia. I think Western Canada still has my heart, but it's definitely a winner on the prettiness factor.
We've started to really settle into the nitty gritty of working around here though. I'm in an Intercultural Training course for the next two and a half days. I'm enjoying having the chance to think about how to be interculturally effective rather than just diving into it whole hog. Tonight we're off to the bar to the open mic night. I've been hearing lots about Nova Scotian music so hopefully it lives up to its reputation.
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Goodbye, Saskatchewan
I flew out of Saskatchewan early this morning. It was so early in fact that I slept through take-off. Luckily, routing from Regina being what it is, I was able to say a proper goodbye to my prairies while awake from Calgary. In fact, I flew over them not once, but twice this morning. Thank you WestJet for keeping me in the prairies for as long as you possibly could.
I do have an excuse for my sleepiness. I went to my cousin’s wedding the night before allowing for little sleep before my 6 o’clock flight. I did have the pleasure of saying goodbye to most of mother’s extended family as well. It was my first family wedding in a while so it was a nice experience. My cousin and his new wife also served one of my favourite Saskatchewan meals: steak. He is a beef farmer so it does make sense. I have to admit that I love steak especially from home. I’ve tried it other places and nothing quite lives up to my expectations. Now it will be another 8 months before I get Saskatchewan beef.
I’m in the Nova Scotia airport writing this post while I wait for my bus. I had the pleasure though of seeing an exhibit about an organization called WaterCan. They bring clean water to parts of Eastern Africa, including Kenya. As I saw these photos, I realized how incredible it is that I get to go to Kenya to do development work. In a little less than three weeks, those photographs will become real people for me. I will know the names of Kenyans and begin to have an understanding of what their lives are like. I have to admit that I can’t wait.
The exhibit also almost made me cry. The statistics about how many people live without clean water or proper sanitation was heartbreaking. We take clean water and garbage collection for granted. Here’s the stat that really struck me: 40% of children under 5 are saved by teaching people to wash their hands with soap. I’m amazed that something so simple could be so life changing for so many people. I also need to confess at this point that I dug out my hand sanitizer before writing this post.
I just got off the plane in Halifax and ran into that exhibit. I take it as a good sign that I’m supposed to be going to Kenya. I will keep you all posted on how orientation goes tomorrow!
I do have an excuse for my sleepiness. I went to my cousin’s wedding the night before allowing for little sleep before my 6 o’clock flight. I did have the pleasure of saying goodbye to most of mother’s extended family as well. It was my first family wedding in a while so it was a nice experience. My cousin and his new wife also served one of my favourite Saskatchewan meals: steak. He is a beef farmer so it does make sense. I have to admit that I love steak especially from home. I’ve tried it other places and nothing quite lives up to my expectations. Now it will be another 8 months before I get Saskatchewan beef.
I’m in the Nova Scotia airport writing this post while I wait for my bus. I had the pleasure though of seeing an exhibit about an organization called WaterCan. They bring clean water to parts of Eastern Africa, including Kenya. As I saw these photos, I realized how incredible it is that I get to go to Kenya to do development work. In a little less than three weeks, those photographs will become real people for me. I will know the names of Kenyans and begin to have an understanding of what their lives are like. I have to admit that I can’t wait.
The exhibit also almost made me cry. The statistics about how many people live without clean water or proper sanitation was heartbreaking. We take clean water and garbage collection for granted. Here’s the stat that really struck me: 40% of children under 5 are saved by teaching people to wash their hands with soap. I’m amazed that something so simple could be so life changing for so many people. I also need to confess at this point that I dug out my hand sanitizer before writing this post.
I just got off the plane in Halifax and ran into that exhibit. I take it as a good sign that I’m supposed to be going to Kenya. I will keep you all posted on how orientation goes tomorrow!
Ice Wine Party!
As I mentioned, I bought some ice wine at Inniskillin, a winery in Niagara-on-the-Lake. Last week, I had the chance to throw a party where Bre and I cracked a bottle with our Mothers paired with some special appies. I had fun finding out which flavors went with which wines (the Inniskillin site was really helpful for this). I picked apricot and parmesan cheese as the flavors I wanted to explore. The woman who gave us our tour actually suggested parmesan as a pairing for Vidal ice wine.
In the spirit of appetizers, I made parmesan crisps topped with apricots. Parmesan crisps are super good and super easy. I would completely recommend them if you want to look classy without a lot of actual effort. All you need to do is put 12 tablespoons of parmesan in little mounds on a parchment-lined cookie sheet and bake at 500 degrees for three minutes. And voila! You have parmesan crisps. You could put them with dip, eat them plan or top them with something. This time around I sweetened the cheese up with dried apricots on dollop of ricotta cheese and sprinkled with toasted almonds. But I urge you to experiment with the flavors you might want to try.
Parmesan Crisps topped with Apricots
Inspired by Parmesan Crisps at TasteBuddies
Freshly grated Parmesan cheese (use the large holes)
Dried Apricots
Ricotta Cheese
Almond Flavoring
Sliced almonds (toasted)
Using a tablespoon, spoon parmesan onto parchment paper-lined cookie sheets. Make 12 mounds. Bake for 3 minutes at 500 degrees.
Mix ricotta cheese with almond flavoring to taste. Cut up apricots into 8 pieces. Toast almonds if not already toasted.
Assemble each crisp by spreading some ricotta, placing two pieces of dried apricot stuffed with a slice of almond.
Friday, August 6, 2010
Fruit Crisp
I decided that, since I like to cook, i would add the odd recipe. The next couple will be recipes because I've been at home doing some cooking with some lovely local ingriedents.
I actually came home to beautiful rhubarb (saved by my wonderful Mother) and what else can one do with rhubarb but make a crisp. Nothing says comfort food quite like a crisp. There's sweet, gooey fruit underneath with crispy sugary goodness on top. Some like to add the silky smoothness of ice cream, but I have to admit that I like my crisp straight. I usually take dessert straight without whip cream or ice cream to flatten the taste of a good dessert. However, it does make it look pretty.
I decided to challenge myself this time by not using either brown sugar or cinnamon in this one. Instead, I grated some cardamon I found in the cupboard to give it a sweet, spiciness and used maple syrup to sweeten it. I used maple syrup in the topping as well which made it quite a bit crispier. I liked the crunch of this topping in comparison to the softness of brown sugar. I also bulked out my rhubarb with some fresh apples and saskatoons. The saskatoons gave it a nice purple colour, as well as a Saskatchewan flare. However, 5 cups of almost any fruit would work. Apples and blueberries . . . peaches . . . plums . . . yum yum
Fruit Crisp
Filling
1 ½ c rhubarb
2 apples
1 ½ c saskatoons
1/3 c maple syrup
1 tsp. Cardamom
1/2 tsp. All spice
Topping
1 c oats
1/3 c whole wheat flour
1/3 c maple syrup
1/4 c butter (melted)
1 tsp cardamom
Cut up all the fruit and spread it in a casserole dish. Mix in the spices with the maple syrup. Let sit while mixing the topping.
Combine dry ingredients with cardamon. Add maple syrup and butter until it forms a crumbly topping. Spread over the prepared fruit. Bake for 40-50 minutes at 350 C.
Monday, August 2, 2010
Go, Riders, Go!
I had the good fortune to go to a Rider Game at Taylor Field since coming home. I’ve become more of a football fan since leaving the province. Sometimes I wonder if they put some green dye in the water to make sure the people of Saskatchewan become Rider fans. My family is evidence of the amount of love showered on this team. My brother and sister both have partners from outside of Saskatchewan who now happily identify themselves as Rider fans (my own boyfriend also numbers himself among the Rough Rider fans). This game was special though because my little niece came to her first game ever in her whole life (we’re not counting the ones she attended in her mama’s tummy). I have to say she’s the happiest baby I’ve ever seen. She grinned her way through the whole game. And for the most part she even clapped at the right times. Although, smiling Mommy, Daddy, Granddad, Grandma, and Aunt might have influenced her clapping decisions just a little bit.
Little does my niece know though that it takes a special person to be a Rider fan. Rider fans go out in rain or shine in their best green and white outfits. Most even boast owning t-shirts in both colours so they have some choice come game time. I’m always amazed at the outfits sported at Rider games. Sometimes the fans are more interesting than the game on the field. Personally, I’ve always liked the watermelon on the head. And buying a fake, plastic watermelon from the Rider store is cheating. If you’re going to go with the watermelon, you should be authentic. I liked the guy near us who added to his watermelon hat with a green broom on top. I thought that was original.
Although, perhaps, crazy clothing is not the true mark of a Rider fan; it is sticking with this team through thick and thin. The franchise celebrated its 100 year anniversary. It’s an amazing achievement for a team that has won 3 Grey Cups in 100 years. We are tied with teams who only lasted ten years. Yet, the fans still come to watch them play. I’m living proof because I’ve been going to Rider games for as long as I can remember. You can bet that the Rider fans will cheer on their team when they’re doing well and complain loudly when they’re doing poorly. This game proved no different. True to form, the Riders gave us plenty to complain about when failing to punch it in from within 5 yards of the goal line THREE times. They still got field goals, and I suppose points are points. In honour of me being home, they were kind enough to win with a score of 37-24 for us. At the end of the day though, with all their faults, the Riders are a Saskatchewan institution.
Sunday, August 1, 2010
Roadtrip!
I’ve traveled from Regina (a.k.a. home) to Eastern Canada several times now (and back again). But this time, we took a slightly different route by dipping into the States. I added to my state-count by 4, but we actually went through 8 (for the curious: New York, Pennsylvania, Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Wisconsin, Minnesota, and North Dakota). Unfortunately, I can’t say that we saw much besides the scenery on the interstate. We did catch a bit of Illinois by popping into Chicago (if an hour and half drive through heavy traffic to downtown can be rightly called a pop) and Minneapolis.
At the same time, there is a certain joy and freedom to a roadtrip. There’s always the possibility that there’s something waiting for you just off the interstate. Wisconsin is actually a surprisingly great state for tempting you off the interstate. Signs abound for antiques, cheese, and resorts, complete with waterslide parks, which we unluckily only glimpsed longingly from the highway. We did stop at one of the antique shops. I have to admit that this one did not appear to have any swanky antiques: it looked like a grandmother’s house. Then again, I have never been good at finding either antiques or vintage clothing.
By contrast, Chicago was a nice place. I liked the vibe I got from Chicago. It felt like a cultural oasis in the mid-West. My favourite part of town was Millennium Park. This park included neat modern art, a cool fountain, and, a performing arts auditorium in the signature style of Frank Gehry (Guggenheim architect) with a large grassy area in front for outdoor performances. I wanted to go to the symphony, which was playing for a summer festival, but it poured rain that night. We hung out at Gino’s Pizza instead waiting on some traditional Chicago deep-dish. I have to say this pizza was something else. I use that phrase because I can’t say that it’s the beats delicious Italian thin crust, but it had a distinct flavour and texture all of its own. The crust had a fluffy, goldeness to it that was distinctly American. I think they might have added cornmeal to the crust to make this texture, but I’m not positive. I enjoyed the green spaces of Chicago, although we spent most of our time at the shops along the Magnificent Mile. Weirdly, Chicago had lots of honourary names for streets, such as the Magnificent Mile, which is really on Michigan Ave. The picture below is my favourite honourary street so far in my limited experience of Chicago.
The last place of any significance that we stopped was Minneapolis. We learned our lesson in Chicago so we stayed out of downtown Minneapolis. However, the developers were onto us because they built us a shopping complex, The Shoppes at Arbor Lakes, near the interstate. I can only describe this complex as a pedestrian downtown-like centre with oodles of parking on the outskirts. It had several boutiques, mixed in with box stores, a plan which was designed to give one the illusion of a quaint, downtown shopping experience. I have to say it made for a lovely stop and I bought a cook book and some coffee.
Those were the major stops along the route from Kingston to Regina, but there is one more little thing to mention. By North Dakota, we had entered my beloved prairie. The traffic lightened up and you started to be able to see your dog running away for three days. For me, being able to see for miles in every direction makes me feel free. Definitely, the landscape of my childhood and my heart.
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Yay, Wineries!
I started off my trip home with a detour to Niagara-on-the-Lake and a viewing of Niagara Falls. I loved Niagara-on-the-Lake. This town had both quaint buildings and the natural beauty of the lake, but, best of all, it’s also home to some of the country’s finest wineries. We didn’t have enough time, but I think winery tours, with the obligatory tastings, followed by a tipsy picnic by the lake could be a recipe for a perfect day.
We visited two wineries: Inniskillin and Jackson Triggs. It was really neat to see Inniskillin because this wine label put Canadian wines on the map. An Italian-Canadian and old-school Austrian winemaker founded Inniskillin in 1975. These two men set out to make world class wine and actually made it. One of their major innovations was the importation of European grapes that they grew in Canadian soil. By the 1980s, they were winning prizes for their wines, specifically their ice wines. Does it get any more Canadian than ice wine? I’ll take a minute to explain ice wine in case some of you haven’t had the pleasure. It is definitely delicious, if expensive. I consider it worth it, but you’ll have to try it for yourself. The winemakers leave the grapes on the vine until the first frosts arrive. Then they harvest the grapes by hand, usually at night, when the temperature is below at least 8 C. Freezing concentrates the flavour of the wine because the water in the grape is frozen while the sugars remain unfrozen, making the wine much, much sweeter than regular wine.
I love ice wine precisely because it is so scrumptiously sweet. I’m planning on cracking a bottle at a party soon so I’ll post the recipe I decide to pair with my ice wine after the party. I also indulged in a bottle of ice syrup. This treat is not fermented making it somewhat cheaper. I haven’t tried it yet, but the saleswoman compared it to grape syrup. I’m excited to try it in desserts and maybe even some lucky pancakes or French toast. These two wineries carried other products for the kitchen like ice syrup, but also local grapeseed oil. It was a great place to find interesting local ingredients. I think these wineries have done a great job of melding European culture to Canadian geography. Germany and Austria only receive the correct conditions to make icewine every 3 or 4 years, while Canada has those conditions every single year. Yes, it may not be pleasant to have ice and snow every, single year, but hey when life throws you some frozen grapes, you’ve just gotta make icewine.
After sampling some of the lovely wines, we decided to head off to the most iconic sight in Canada: Niagara Falls. My first view of Niagara Falls was somewhat sceptical of its greatness. I thought to myself, “Well, it’s a beautiful geographic phenomenon. Not sure what the fuss is about. It looks just like the pictures.” Of course, the number of pictures I took of the falls will attest to my enjoyment of it. We also took a ride on that other great Canadian tradition: The Maid of the Mist. I have to admit that seeing the falls, and hearing the roar, from the distance of a couple hundred feet was an unforgettable experience. I find so often that falls can appear as merely quite beautiful, foamy water that I often forget just how much of a power punch that rushing water packs. Getting up close and personal with Niagara Falls made me remember that those Falls were more than just pretty, picturesque water falling over a cliff. For all its tackiness and business, I really did enjoy Niagara Falls. That pretty much wraps up my fun on the Canadian side of the border before heading into the States.
Monday, July 26, 2010
Dog Days of Kingston
So I have finally officially moved out of Kingston. I left four days ago. However, I wanted to note some of the attractions I saw in my final days in that lovely city.
Kevin and I made it out to the Penitentiary Museum. I have to admit that the prisons are one of the defining features of Kingston. Not only does it have eight prisons, but they played a part in the history. Perhaps I think the prisons are important simply because Margaret Atwood set Alias Grace in a Kingston prison and Charles Dickens also visited the prison in Kingston. Truly, the Kingston Pen has been attracting tourists for as long as it’s been open. They even offered tours at one point during the 19th century. I think the Victorians had a bigger appetite for watching other people’s suffering. Kingston also offered those tourists the chance to watch public hangings. I still don’t really understand the appeal, but maybe they would find riding elevators up tall buildings quite boring (an attraction most North American cities offer). Heck, I find that somewhat boring although much nicer than walking up all the stairs. Be careful in Europe though because the dome at the Duomo (Cathedral) in Florence has no elevator. They make you exercise. But I digress. Continuing with the prisons in Kingston, I wanted to add that right by the prison is the village of Portsmouth, founded in 1784, but which grew in order to provide housing and services to the prison staff in the next century. At the beginning of its existence, the prisoners were treated much more harshly, as well as put to work without pay. All of the iron workings, as well as the building itself, was made by the prisoners. I think it would be the worst feeling in the world to be building the tiny cells that would eventually house yourself. However, the reproduction of the current cells resembles a college dorm to a certain extent with bars for the door. The prison wasn’t the only thing the prisoners made. They also built the Church of the Good Thief or St. Diasmus. This parish still exists and provides mass for its parishioners every Sunday. It is a beautiful little church with wood paneling on the ceiling and walls, as well as stained glass windows. It was my favourite church in Kingston partly because it’s adorable, but also because of its history. I guess something good came out of the prison.
We also experienced the historic side of Kingston by touring Fort Henry. The British built Fort Henry in 1832-1837 to protect us from an American invasion. The living conditions of the average 19th century soldier do leave something to be desired. We saw Murney Tower, one of the Martello Towers, and they also had very cramped quarters. I think I live in about the same amount of space for just me while they would have shared the same amount with 20 other people. I did find the cooking implements interesting. They had iron waffle makers, coffee grinders, pancake pans, and even a dish drier. So basically my kitchen isn’t much better than theirs would have been . . . . although now that I think about it I don’t have a waffle maker or a coffee grinder so maybe they do win. How depressing.
What I didn’t know about Fort Henry is that it’s considered one of the most haunted places in North America. The Haunted Walk we took through said that Ghost Hunters, a television show, visited this site. I did find myself becoming a little jumpy. Kevin lives right beside the Fort and our guide told us that many men died in the hidden ditches on late night walks home. Luckily, the ditches seem to be less hidden nowadays, but I’m still a little worried. Mostly there’s just been reports of strange noises and doors closing. I think there are creepier sites in the downtown area. I definitely felt jumpy for the rest of the night although this could be a result of my lovely boyfriend and best friend. I started feeling a little chilled in this one room where other tour guests had felt less than pleasant, and to aid my creepy feeling both Bre and Kevin blew on my neck. Next time I might consider leaving some people behind. . .
My final days in Kingston would not have been complete without final stops at all my favourite restaurants. I made my own pizza at Woodenhead’s, followed by coffee at the Sleepless Goat and I wrapped it up with a Lemon Currant Bun from Pan Chancho. I actually bought the Chez Piggy cook book so I can make my own Lemon Currant Buns. I’ll keep you posted on how that goes. For now, I’ve said good bye to all my favourite restaurants in Kingston and I look forward some welcome back parties at these gems.
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Times Square and the Theatre District: Bigger is Better
No trip to New York would be complete without taking in a Broadway show. We actually saw two shows: a classic, The Phantom of the Opera, and one of this year’s darlings, Promises, Promises. The sheer magnitude of the sets and special effects of Phantom forces you to feel the glitz and glamour of Broadway. Need I even mention the amazing score? Its 20 year run on Broadway attests to the power of this musical. And we joined the mass of fans who loved the musical. I have to admit to thinking before we went that it wouldn’t be that much better than the movie. But seeing it on stage was something special. The closeness of the sets brought you right into the action on stage: the chandelier rises from stage at eyelevel to eventually take its place right above your head. All the time with you watching, thinking “it must be magic.”
Warning: English-y part coming up. I also found, as an audience member, that the meta-theatrical references and parody of the operatic form were heightened. I especially love the moment when the theatre owners suggest that their lives could be an opera. Also, the use of the ballet replicated the use of ballet in the French opera houses, a practice which has since ceased. And there was just something wonderful about sitting in the beautiful Majestic theatre, in the pit I might add, that made me feel as if I was at the Opera Populaire in Paris.
Promises, Promises was definitely a good show, but it lacked the glitz and glamour of Phantom. Fortunately, it made up for this lack with sheer talent. Sean Hayes, of Will & Grace fame, and Kristen Chenoweth, from Glee, were the leads in this show. I have to admit that the resonance of seeing them on stage together made the show for me. Kristin Chenoweth has a phenomenal voice and it was really cool to see her on stage. And Sean Hayes, well, he’s just hilarious. He has great comic timing that shines through at the start of the second act when he (while drunk) picks up a drunken woman in the bar. The plot and the music are quite forgettable, but it is a fun show. For me, it resonated because I knew both of these actors and they just brought the cool factor up for me. I have to admit to being a bit start struck . . .
As for Times Square, well, that’s the biggest and brightest part of New York. I think it’s just as iconic as the Statue of Liberty and, for me, it definitely lived up to images of it as bigger than life. I especially liked the colour from all of the ads. It just screams at you to try to take in all the excess. In an attempt to experience the excess, we visited two massive American chocolate shops: Hershey and M&M. I have to admit that M&M wins the excess contest because it had three floors worth of M&M paraphernalia. I mean three floors? How much stuff can you possibly emboss with the M&M characters (albeit cute characters)? Then again, who doesn’t love chocolate? We definitely indulged.
From the distant past to the present, New York has remained a presence in my imagination. Ok, so it proves that I watch too many American movies, but still there was something special about New York City.
Warning: English-y part coming up. I also found, as an audience member, that the meta-theatrical references and parody of the operatic form were heightened. I especially love the moment when the theatre owners suggest that their lives could be an opera. Also, the use of the ballet replicated the use of ballet in the French opera houses, a practice which has since ceased. And there was just something wonderful about sitting in the beautiful Majestic theatre, in the pit I might add, that made me feel as if I was at the Opera Populaire in Paris.
Promises, Promises was definitely a good show, but it lacked the glitz and glamour of Phantom. Fortunately, it made up for this lack with sheer talent. Sean Hayes, of Will & Grace fame, and Kristen Chenoweth, from Glee, were the leads in this show. I have to admit that the resonance of seeing them on stage together made the show for me. Kristin Chenoweth has a phenomenal voice and it was really cool to see her on stage. And Sean Hayes, well, he’s just hilarious. He has great comic timing that shines through at the start of the second act when he (while drunk) picks up a drunken woman in the bar. The plot and the music are quite forgettable, but it is a fun show. For me, it resonated because I knew both of these actors and they just brought the cool factor up for me. I have to admit to being a bit start struck . . .
As for Times Square, well, that’s the biggest and brightest part of New York. I think it’s just as iconic as the Statue of Liberty and, for me, it definitely lived up to images of it as bigger than life. I especially liked the colour from all of the ads. It just screams at you to try to take in all the excess. In an attempt to experience the excess, we visited two massive American chocolate shops: Hershey and M&M. I have to admit that M&M wins the excess contest because it had three floors worth of M&M paraphernalia. I mean three floors? How much stuff can you possibly emboss with the M&M characters (albeit cute characters)? Then again, who doesn’t love chocolate? We definitely indulged.
From the distant past to the present, New York has remained a presence in my imagination. Ok, so it proves that I watch too many American movies, but still there was something special about New York City.
Upper West Side: Chillin’ like I’m from New York
This area was my favourite. I liked it because it is quieter than other parts of New York and less touristy. Also, the best cookies in New York live in this area at the Levain Bakery. This tiny bakery, with a counter the size of an average desk, serves only 4 types of cookies, but they are definitely the best. When you arrive, you walk into a wall of ooey-gooey good smells and you leave with a bag of the heaviest cookies in the universe. Did I mention that portion sizes on cookies was also ginormous? I think these cookies could have been a meal all by themselves. I did not restrain myself to cookies, but also tried one of the cupcakes from the famous Magnolia Bakery (it is the bakery where Miranda and Carrie buy cupcakes). While Magnolia Bakery has become a chain that even has a shop in Grand Central Station, Levain Bakery has remained small and artisanal. I might add that the cupcakes still taste good though. However, I think the humble (by which I mean the double chocolate peanut butter variety) cookie has stolen my heart and wins the award of the best thing I ate while I was in New York.
Besides, a delicious bakery the Upper Westside has many other restaurants that are a bit more reasonably priced than those in other areas. I am slightly biased about this area because I reconnected with two friends in New York and we explored this area together. Eliza met us at the Metropolitan Museum of Art so we could gossip with famous works of art and antique items within eye sight. On a serious note, the Met rivals any museum in Europe. Like the Louvre, the collection spans many different time periods and geographic regions around the world. My mother loved the impressionist section, which I have to admit was lovely, but the Cypriot section won my heart. As you might have noticed, I have a bit of a thing for the underdog. In my travels so far, including a trip to the ancient history museum in Istanbul, I’ve never seen Cypriot works before. I really liked the style of these works because they combined both Egyptian and Greek ancient statuary. Anyways, you can do more research in order to form your own opinion. If you’re going to be in New York sometime soon, I would suggest seeing the “American Woman: Fashioning a National Identity” exhibit at the Met. It is both an exhibit on American national identity AND a fashion show. They take you from the elaborate ball gowns of the late-nineteenth century heiress to the screen goddesses of the 30s and 40s. My favourite bit of this exhibit was the Gibson Girl clothing. The Gibson Girl was a marketing phenomenon in the late-nineteenth century. She embodied greater freedom and liberty for women through physical activity. However, I have to say how she skated or played tennis in long petticoats remains a mystery to me. But good on her for leaving her needle point behind.
However, the best part of the Upper West Side is the proximity of Central Park. The green space provides a welcome relief from sounds and smells of New York (although the sewage does seep into the part a little). Kevin and I were lucky enough to have Line, my Danish friend, show us the statue of Alice in Wonderland and Hans Christian Andersen. My beloved European fairy tales even have a little home in Central Park. Line If fairytales aren’t your thing, Strawberry Fields is also in Central Park with a monument to John Lennon who lived in the Upper West Side. I also loved the rented motorized sailboats floating on the lake. Central Park allows you to take a break from the rest of what makes New York special. Oh, and of course, it’s also supersized.
Besides, a delicious bakery the Upper Westside has many other restaurants that are a bit more reasonably priced than those in other areas. I am slightly biased about this area because I reconnected with two friends in New York and we explored this area together. Eliza met us at the Metropolitan Museum of Art so we could gossip with famous works of art and antique items within eye sight. On a serious note, the Met rivals any museum in Europe. Like the Louvre, the collection spans many different time periods and geographic regions around the world. My mother loved the impressionist section, which I have to admit was lovely, but the Cypriot section won my heart. As you might have noticed, I have a bit of a thing for the underdog. In my travels so far, including a trip to the ancient history museum in Istanbul, I’ve never seen Cypriot works before. I really liked the style of these works because they combined both Egyptian and Greek ancient statuary. Anyways, you can do more research in order to form your own opinion. If you’re going to be in New York sometime soon, I would suggest seeing the “American Woman: Fashioning a National Identity” exhibit at the Met. It is both an exhibit on American national identity AND a fashion show. They take you from the elaborate ball gowns of the late-nineteenth century heiress to the screen goddesses of the 30s and 40s. My favourite bit of this exhibit was the Gibson Girl clothing. The Gibson Girl was a marketing phenomenon in the late-nineteenth century. She embodied greater freedom and liberty for women through physical activity. However, I have to say how she skated or played tennis in long petticoats remains a mystery to me. But good on her for leaving her needle point behind.
However, the best part of the Upper West Side is the proximity of Central Park. The green space provides a welcome relief from sounds and smells of New York (although the sewage does seep into the part a little). Kevin and I were lucky enough to have Line, my Danish friend, show us the statue of Alice in Wonderland and Hans Christian Andersen. My beloved European fairy tales even have a little home in Central Park. Line If fairytales aren’t your thing, Strawberry Fields is also in Central Park with a monument to John Lennon who lived in the Upper West Side. I also loved the rented motorized sailboats floating on the lake. Central Park allows you to take a break from the rest of what makes New York special. Oh, and of course, it’s also supersized.
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