Phi Phi Island, igorant tourists and Indian feminists

Moving on from our night of fun in Phuket Tom and I headed to Phi Phi island. Recommended by my colleague Gaurav - as well as the guidebooks - it promised to be the "real" Thailand - small coves and sandy beaches.

We weren't disappointed. Phi Phi is a gorgeous little place as you can see from the photographs. It is, however, full of farang. It's all the island really exists for. It's a backpacker paradise - with the small town area simply full of guesthouses, tour shops, stalls and restaurants. If you accept that, then you can just enjoy Phi Phi for what it is - a place where all you can really do is swim, snorkel, sunbathe and eat seafood. Not a bad way of spending a few days - I could have happily spent a few months there to be honest.

We saw some fantastic fire-throwers, ate some great prawns and snapper and I even managed to trek up the hill to the view point over the isthmus to watch the sunset. Oh and of course quite a bit of swimming and sunbathing.

Aside from the idyll, for me, the most interesting part of visiting Phi Phi was the people I met there. Up at the viewpoint, I got chatting to an American guy who had spent a lot of time in China and was now travelling round Thailiand before returning to university in Texas. You think that someone who had obviously had to look at a map at some point might have a vague understanding of world geography. However, he thought that Kenya was in the Himalayas, and looked pretty oblivious about the mention of Africa as a continent on the whole.  I returned from watching the sunset inspired by the beauty of the world but a tad depressed about the lack of curiousty and interest in life of some of its inhabitants.

However, the following day, when sitting on the ferry back to Phuket, I met Anu, an Indian girl from Delhi who was on her honeymoon. She met her fiance three months prior to the wedding through work. Her hands and feet were still covered in henna and her arms with the traditional wedding bangles traditional to her new husband's punjab tradition. She was a smart, gorgeous girl, with lots of ideas and a huge interest in the cross-fertilisation of cultures - and most importantly for her - the effect it was having on the rights of women in India. "Divorce is increasing - women don't have to stay in arranged marriages anymore in which their husbands don't respect them. Women can manage men in the workplace - we can get married later - have a career. It's all very new - we're on the threshold of change. It's exciting."



She told me with some incredulity that she had heard there was still discrimination against women in western cultures. The way she talked about western culture actually made me feel ashamed. I so often feel embarrassed by and saddened by the export of the "western" way of life. I am constantly critical of it, constantly apologising for it. That's not to say that those criticisms aren't valid but looking at things through Anu's eyes gave me a very different perspective. As a women, she just saw the freedom and the opportunities it offered. She also saw it as something to be proud of. "Doesn't it make you happy," she said, "When you see everybody wearing your clothes?" I was so surprised I had to ask her to explain what she meant. "When I loan one of my non-Indian friends a Sari, I'm always so proud when they enjoy wearing it. For you - you see people of all different countries taking on your fashions all the time - so many different people and cultures like the way you dress and want to wear your clothes. Doesn't that make you proud?"

I was at a loss for an answer. All I could say was that I'd never thought about it like that - because that was the truth - I hadn't.

An evening in Phuket - Ka Jok See

I travelled down to Phuket recently to spend a few days holiday with my friend Tom, who was over from Hong Kong. We had a couple of nights in Phuket town and decided we'd try and find a restaurant recommended by both our guidebooks called Ka Jok See. After a good half an hour of searching (why are all guide book maps so bad?!) we found this little wooden building on the corner of a side street of bars and restaurants.

We wandered up to the door and a short, slightly camp looking man greeted us. It seemed we had found the right place. "Yes, this is Ka Jok See - we are quite a private place - how did you find us?" We booked a table for the evening, and were told in no uncertain terms that we needed to dress smartly and that I was expected to dance. We walked away feeling slightly perturbed, but too curious to back out.

A few hours later we turned up and found the small restaurant half full and a very calm, slightly formal atmosphere - all candlelight and hush hush. We were welcomed and sat down. Shortly after being served drinks and an appetizer were presented with "frog companions" for our table by the waiter. Tom and I looked at the two small ceramic frogs and then at each other. "Salt and pepper pots?" I asked. Tom looked at the frogs. "No. Just frog companions".

The food was beyond delicious and as the evening went on, some of the waiters asked various women to dance with them during breaks in the courses. Tom and I laughed at all the men who sat there looking slightly uncomfortable when their women were up and dancing with the waiters - until of course one of them asked me to dance and I turned beetroot as I tried to remember a bit of salsa and Tom had his turn at looking awkward. We tried to figure out the story behind the other people at the restaurant - they were all farang. Some were families, some couples, and some male farang with their young Thai wives. But there was something Tom and I couldn't really put out finger on about the atmosphere...

Shortly, we thought we had found the answer. One of the waiters stood at the back of the restaurant holding up some flyers. Tom looked at me, a note of slight panic in his voice. "Those flyers say "sex sex" he said. All I could see from from my persepctive was the shape of a naked woman's back on the front cover. We looked at each other - had we somehow landed ourselves in a sophisticated Phuket swingers bar? I consider myself pretty liberal when it comes to sexual preferences but potentially being put on the spot by a Thai waiter was something I didn't feel quite prepared for...

Gradaully the waiter with the leaflets made his way round to our table. People at other tables had been taking them and looking at them with interest. I took one apprehensively and burst out laughing. It actually said "Sun Sea" and was just a promotional flyer for a local beauty salon and gave prices for facials, nails, massages... all the usual stuff. Tom and collapsed into slightly relieved hysterics. No sex was expected of us... yet...

It had barely got to 10pm when it became clear that the restaurant was keen for us to stop drinking and start dancing. Most people were pulled onto their feet to join in with some shuffling salsa moves and general downing of mojito shots.  A couple of dancers - obviously booked for the evening - were doing some positively amazing salsa in one corner. The atmosphere had changed from being quiet and slightly formal to be a bit louder and slightly tipsy.

And then the first trannie made an appearance. Modelling a figure hugging red sequinned dress, she marched into the middle of the restaurant - along with mike stand and launched into a half hour miming set. It was the worst miming ever - it almost seemed that whoever was choosing the tracks in the back was deliberately picking ones she didn't know for a giggle. She of course pulled it off - with the help of rose petals which were strewn over her at various intervals by the waiters.

Soon everyone was joining in the party. One of the waiter stripped down to just his jeans, grabbed a violin and jumped onto one of the tables and did an enthusiastic spot of violin-miming which much hip-grinding to go along with it. The bongos, tamborines and maracas were brought out. All the tables were pushed back, more mojito shots were brought out, cigarettes were lit and then - Beyonce appeared.



To be fair, she was more like Diana Ross as her hair was so big it was a personality in itself but her miming and strutting to a Beyonce megamix was really the highlight of the evening. She even had the dances down. By this stage, pretty much everyone (apart from poor old Tom) in the restaurant was hammered - either up on the tables or giving it large on the dance floor. It had gone from feeling like an exclusive dining club to a private house party. Tom and I were still recovering from the hilarity of thinking we'd landed ourselves in a members-only sex club. In fact, it proved to be the best food, best music and generally most entertaining night of our trip - and one that we'll both remember for quite a while. However, we did decide to head back to our hotel at about 1am and the party in Ka Jok See was still going strong so who knows what happened at the end of the night...

Eating bugs

At this time of year, the north of Thailand occasionally gets large swarms of bugs, that arrive in the towns and, well, die everywhere. They're called muenman and are a real delicacy. At the center, because we're really close to the forest, we have been visited by these bugs quite regularly, much to the delight of all the children. We've had quite a few evenings bug hunting, bug collecting, bug frying and bug eating. And you know, they are quite tasty. You fry them in oil and a little salt and they just taste a bit like crisps. Crunchy, and a bit addictive. Mmmm.

News from Kenya

I've had a slightly stressful few weeks. This statement from the CEO of my organisation explains why. Check out the video and you might understand why I find what has happened so heartbreaking.

Dear Sponsors, Supporters, Friends and all of our IHF Family,

In April, our non-Kenyan volunteers and directors at our center in Nakuru were expelled unceremoniously from Kenya.  I am deeply distressed and saddened by the experiences that these brilliant and committed individuals had to endure.  Their abrupt departure also leaves a very difficult situation for our children and for our center.  

I would like to try to explain the long and complex history that has contributed to this situation and ask for your understanding and support as we try to get through this difficult period.  Should you have any concerns or questions on reading the below, please do not hesitate to contact our Sponsor Relations Team at sponsor.relations@ihfonline.org.

Over six years ago, a Kenyan man, whom was working as a director for IHF in Kenya, embezzled large sums of money by faking pictures of Famine Feeds and taking the money for himself.  This man was secretly working for the head of a powerful clan and regularly manages to continue to infiltrate charity monies in the East Pokot region, and had previously done so in Subukia, as well.  Corruption such as this – even amongst the charitable section – is rife in Kenya, and very difficult to fight.  However, I was determined to take this man to court as I believed then – and still believe now – that it is vital to fight such corruption, as it only grows if kept quiet.  No one wants to be seen with “dirty linen” and the instinct to “protect the image of the organization” is a strong one.  However, as corruption and cons grow more complex and layered by the day, the only hope of reducing their prevalence is by trying to stand against them and support those honest and hardworking charities and individuals who are truly dedicated to what they do.  If people are not certain their money is being used for the right purpose, then they will abandon giving to charities – and the charities that will be hurt most will be the small volunteer organizations that do the most for the least money. So this is why, despite IHF being threatened with closure and seizure of our land, I was determined to take this case to court.

The court case has been going on now for six long years.  During this time, our evidence has vanished from police custody on three separate occasions: each and every time we reorganized evidence.  This strong evidence included original letters, notes and videos of meetings we could not replace, as police demanded custody of them immediately before we could make copies.  This valuable evidence has been “lost” by the police on three occasions.  After the third occasion, the Judge arranged for it to be kept securely in the court house, but despite this assurance before the defense hearing in March, we were informed that our newest re-gathered evidence had been “lost” yet again from the vault in the Court house.  There have been many delays to the hearings – often with dates having been rearranged at the last minute to prevent the attendance of myself and other IHF representatives.  Our directors have often been targeted and persuaded to believe various untruths about IHF – such as the fact, our center is not registered or that non-Kenyan directors steal funds. Obviously each time this happens, it creates diversions and strife within IHF, which is difficult to recover from.  However, we are a close and loving family and our financial transparency and our children’s own stories speak loudly and so we have so far managed to remain strong.

We are now getting very close to the summation of the court case and I believe this has resulted in the recent distressing events which occurred in Nakuru.

On Wednesday April 27, 2011, a disgruntled ex-director went to the media and to Nakuru Immigration and informed them that all of the non-Kenyan volunteers and directors were “working” there illegally.  This director had been asked to leave a week prior because he was not performing the work that he had committed to doing upon acceptance into IHF.   It is also now apparent that he had been contacted by members of the tribal clan we are suing in our court case and believed much of the incorrect information they told him about IHF and, as such, was determined to hurt our organization as much as possible – not realizing that he was part of a much more complex and difficult situation.

In going to immigration, this former director exploited a vulnerability that all NGOs in Kenya face. Technically, to do any kind of volunteer work in Kenya, the law states that you need a work permit. These are difficult to obtain and cost $2000 and if all volunteers to Kenya had to obtain one of these,
precious few NGOs would be able to survive.  It is a rule that is rarely enforced and NGOs in Kenya often deal with it successfully, by either stating their volunteers are merely “visitors” or arranging informal backhanders with immigration officials.  For the last 15 years, all our volunteers have helped at our center in Kenya, have obtained, and renewed their tourist visas for this purpose without any problems and we have certainly never paid any zany bribes whenever demanded and told we will be sorry if we don't.  It is the unfortunate situation however, that if the immigration authorities have any reason to cause trouble for an NGO, this is an ideal way to do it.  As the man we are suing has connections with the immigration authorities and with the media and has bribed often (as a way of life), it is not difficult to understand how, with the resolution of our court case imminent, this suddenly became an issue.

As a result of this, our volunteers and volunteer directors were arrested and charged by the immigration authorities.  They were threatened with jail, each were fined 20,000KES and asked to leave the country within seven days.  For one volunteer, the situation was even worse as she had not realized that her tourist visa had expired eight days prior.  Where as in usual circumstances, she would have been asked to leave the country and pay a small fine per day for the over stay of her visa, in this case, she was kept in jail for 5 days and bribed to pay large sums of money to a lawyer in order for her release and deportation.

Our directors and volunteers were made to feel like criminals.  They were in Kenya to generously give of their lives, their time, their money and their love to children that the Kenyan government has no interest in helping.  It makes me so sad that they were treated in this way and that IHF, as an organization, was powerless against the corruption that made this possible.  Of course, money makes the world go round and if we had thousands of dollars to bribe our way through this, the situation might be different.  However, as you know, we are a grass roots organization - all donated money goes to our children and we do not have such funds available - and that is even before addressing the hard moral question of whether giving money to corrupt officials would be the best way to resolve the situation.
The forced departure of our directors and volunteers has made our center very vulnerable.  Children’s Services had stepped in during this time and requested that all our children leave the center until more staff can be brought in and various changes made to the center.  All of our children, except for High School and Standard 8, have been forced to return to Pokot for at least the next 3-6 months.  Our children are currently housed at our old IHF Center in Pokot, but it is a difficult situation as access to food and education is not easy.  We obviously need new volunteer directors at the center as quickly as possible, but due to the issues with immigration, we cannot send anyone there safely who cannot pay the $2000 for a work permit.  The situation with the court case
makes it very difficult to know whom to trust when hiring staff and volunteers locally.  Currently, one of our experienced East African former director’s is flying back to Kenya to help stabilize the situation and interview new staff.  We are also fundraising to try to raise money to pay for work permits so that other experienced non-African directors can return to our Nakuru Center.  We do not know if we will ever be able to have short-term volunteers again at the center – something of which would be catastrophic for IHF, not only financially, but also because the education of the educated is just as vitally important to us as the education and support of our children.  It is precisely situations like this, that the citizens of “developed” countries should be aware of, as without awareness, we can never hope to create change.

I currently fear that the threat to close the center and to seize our land will somehow be realized.  I have been threatened with arrest at the border if I try to enter the country.  I have been reaching out to international organization heads for advice, support and some kind of momentum to try to combat the difficulties we are experiencing.  I have sadly been met with an overwhelming reluctance to fight or deal with situations like this.  It seems such corruption and exploitation of charity and goodwill is becoming a “fact of life” and does not provoke the outrage that I, and all of IHF, feel so deeply.

To all our generous sponsors of our Nakuru Center – we are so deeply grateful for your support. Please know that your generous contributions will continue to go towards feeding, clothing and educating the children as best we can in this situation.  We hope to have our center returned to the wonderful supportive environment it is as soon as possible.  Ensuring the safety of our children and the proper use of your sponsorship contributions and donations is our highest priority.  We will, of course, keep you notified of any further changes and beg that you do not desert our children in this particular time of need.

To all our IHF family - please reach out to friends, family, contacts, embassies, media, etc.  to tell our story.
Our children need our help now more than ever.

Carol Sasaki
CEO and Founder of the International Humanity Foundation

Songkran!

Songkran is the Thai new year and happens every April around 12-14th. The word is from Sanskrit and refers to the astrological passage of the sun into any sign of the zodiac. More interestingly, it is celebrated by mass water fights!

The throwing of water originated as a way to pay respect to people, by capturing the water after it had been poured over the Buddhas for cleansing and then using this "blessed" water to give good fortune to elders and family by gently pouring it on the shoulder. However, now, people line the streets with buckets, fill pick ups full of water bins and spend two days getting each other thoroughly drenched. It's hilarious.

We rented a pick up for a couple of days, piled the kids in the back, tooled up with water pistols and joined in. Needless to say, as there are precious few farang in Chiang Rai, we became something of a target. And believe me, they don't just go for the people who are joining in! I headed out on my own on my bike to get dinner one night and was thoroughly soaked on the way into town. By the time I reached my destination, I was dripping wet, my African sandals had distintegrated so I was sort of hopping along the street and the restaurant I wanted to go to laughed at me and told me to sit on the wicker chairs. Ha.

Hilltribe visit

All the children at our center come from the hilltribes in the borders of Thailand, Myanmar and Laos. 

Most of our kids are from the Lahu tribe. The Lahu were originally hunters but now live an a mainly agricultural lifestyle - a mixture of cash crop and susbsistence. They clear forested areas of the hills and then plant them for crops.

Previously, they would then move on to another area after a while to allow the ground to recover, but movement such as this is now restricted by the Thai government so many areas are suffering from deforestation. About a third of Lahu are Christian from missionary activity and educational programs in the area. Lahu have their own language and culture - totally distinct from the Thai language and culture. This means for our kids Thai is their second language, English their third. It makes school for them pretty challenging - and communicating for us pretty entertaining!

A real problem for some of our children, is that because they were born in the borders, some of them can't prove which country they are from. Their families don't always have the necessary papers for them and can't exactly say where they were living at the time. Many of our children have their birthday on January 1st because they don't know when exactly they were born. Without this information they are not recognised as Thai citizens, which means that later in life they can't open bank accounts, buy houses, obtain passports...

Some of our children so have family members - maybe one parents is alive, or they have aunts and uncles, brothers and sisters who they go and stay with in the school holidays. The hill tribe people and children are particularly vulnerable to the problems of sex trafficking and prostitution and so one or two of our children are staying at the center because their parents felt it safer for them to be here than to be exposed to those dangers in their village.

Chiang Rai

So this is my new home!

 IHF Chiang Rai is much smaller than IHF Kenya. It's home to 16 children - most of whom are in their teens. The kids all come from the hilltribes in the borders of Thailand, Myanmar and Laos. Most of them are from the Lahu tribe - which has it's own language and customs very separate to the language and customs of Thailand. For our children, Thai is their second language, English their third - so communication with westerners is difficult!

The center is richer than the center in Kenya. As there are fewer children it's less of a challenge making sure all are sponsored and so the center has a big enough budget to afford everything it needs. Also, as Thailand is a tourist and backpacker destination, the center is very popular with short term volunteers which helps both in terms of income and workforce!

Chiang Rai itself is a decent sized town with shops like Boots and EVEN a Tesco lotus. My head nearly exploded in Boots when I first arrived. I just needed to buy some soap. I walked into Boots and it was basically a shop full of soap. Even after only a month in Kenya I had been so used to not having choice or access to luxuries. A shop full of soap was a little much to cope with. Thankfully it was a few weeks before I ventured into the new shopping center not far from the center which has a Maccy Ds and a Starbucks...

Breaking up with 20 people in the same evening

After a month in Kenya, I'm transferring to Thailand. A bit of a surprise but exciting none the less. I prepared by talking to my colleagues in Thailand, finding out about the center there, trying to get as much work done as possible to cover my travel days and of course the inevitable packing.

What I didn't prepare for was leaving the children.

I was only in Kenya for one month so I assumed that the children (even the 20 girls in my dorm) wouldn't be too surprised or sad at me leaving. Volunteers come and go all the time at IHF so I thought they would be used to people coming in and out at the center. I was wrong. Some of them were really angry with me, and the rest of them were really upset.

Chelatan spent the whole evening with tears in her eyes, Chembalau wouldn't really talk to me. I didn't appreciate how important love and affection is to these kids - and how much they rely on the stability on someone's continued presence in their lives. I think I allowed myself to forget that they don't have anyone else.
Thankfully, Madie arrived in the dorm to hang out the last evening I was in Kenya so the general depressed mood was lifted by general mucking around - including games that my family will recognise as being reminiscent of Sisters-de-McKeon action. Hearing the sound of giggles was a big relief.


- flying Chemongot...

Keeping clean in Nakuru

So, one of the theories about the name "Nakuru" is that it's derived from tribal words meaning "swirling dust". This would make a lot of sense. It's a pretty dusty place. Everything is coated in a layer of dust. You step outside and after a few minutes you are covered in it. You would think that you'd need hot showers three times a day to cope with this. However, you quickly learn how to keep clean with the resources you have available....

Kenyan cuisine

Food is important to me. There's not much I don't like about food. So when the type and quantity of food I am able to eat is restricted, I turn from a food enthusiast to a food obsessive. So here is a blog all about Kenyan food.

In the morning, the kids have tea for breakfast. We have tried many times to persuade them we should spend the money on porridge instead but they have none of it. They are determined that they have sweet kenyan tea (brewed with loads of sugar) with loads of sugar as their morning  intake.

As a result, I nip over the road to a little shack by the factory and grab a bag of mendazi for 20KES (about 15p). They're like doughnut-type things and you get five in a bag. I have managed to eat all five in one go, which left me in quite a lot of pain but was pretty enjoyable.

Lunch at the center is githeri - maize and beans in a soupy kind of thing. It's pretty uninteresting but hey, it's protein. Dinner is ugali - which is made from maize flour - and is sort of like a palenta-type substance. We have it with cabbage or kale (althernate day). Thankfully it gets quite addictive, which is just as well when you eat it every day.

I'm very grateful that I bascially enjoy any food and the only thing I draw the line at is beetroot (not come across any beetroot in Kenya) as it makes eating the same, tasteless food every day much easier. However, I spent the last six months in England eating fantastic food - including a final meal at a delicious chinese featuring crispy fried fillet steak. It was a long way to fall. I blame Griff...

As a result, I've found that I've turned into one of those grim westeners who go to a different country and only want to eat their own rubbish food. I crave burgers, pizzas, big blocks of processed cheese, chunks of stodgy bread and potatoes. However, my occasional treats are more general on the healthy side as the one food stuff that is amazing in Kenya is fruit. Kenyan mangoes at the most delicious mangoes I've ever had. They're 20KES each, really big, really juicy and completely amazing and to be honest make the endless days of ugali totally bearable....

A quick tour of IHF Kenya

So here's a little video I made...

Something for the IMPs

Some of you may know that last year I did a lot of work for Orange when I was with IMP Media. And amongst other things I was involved in multimedia product for them called ZAP!

So you can understand why it made me giggle when I got off the plane and launched my bags onto one of these. And then arrived in Nakuru and was greeted with a plethora of signs advertising ZAP! To be fair - it's not the same ZAP! (it's a mobile network) but still. I was a tad horrified at first but it quickly became a sweet reminder of my fantastic ex-colleagues - now I think of you all every time I'm in town!

P.S. If any of the IMPs know a quick way I can make blogger display these horizontally in a gallery rather than vertically down the page that would be "super handy". 

Bethlehem Butcher also quality signage.

Things to take, things to leave

Before I left the UK, I had a hilarious evening packing with Kat  and Caroline.  Of course I was trying to take too much stuff and couldn't fit it all in my bags so they were helping me veto. For them, this was basically an excuse to take the piss out of me for a good three hours and remind me just what I would miss after I left. Things that were discarded that caused the most hilarity were: a flat headed and cross headed screwdriver ("Oh my god Anna they have tools in Kenya you know") a three way plug extension lead (no actual comment for this one due to too much laughter) and a lovely informal suit jacket ("when on earth are you ever going to wear THAT!").

So, especially for Kat and Caroline, I thought I'd do a quick blog on the things that have proved to be the most useful, and the things I could have really left behind.

The what-would-i-do-without-it list:

 - Swiss army knife. A loan from Caroline. Very handy for chopping up mangos.
- Ear plugs. A gift from Kat. Said I never use them as I can never sleep in them. However when you're separated from a room of 20 girls by what is essentially a piece of cardboard, trust me, you find a way.
- Little grey boots. SO glad I've got these. Great for tromping round in. Getting knackered already but they are loved all the more for it.
- Dynamo torch. Donation from Jaime which I very nearly shunned. Essential for going to the toilet after 8.30pm, or doing anything that's not in my room after 8.30pm (not many lightbulbs here). The kids are also totally fascinated by how you charge it.

The I-haven't-touched-this-in-three-weeks list:

-Nail polish. Yeh, I wear this about once a year in the UK. Not sure what I was thinking there.

- Pretty handbag. I love it, and it reminds me of home but god knows when I'll ever use it.
- Exercise/stretching band. Nice idea. Highly unlikely.

And things-I-wish-I'd-brought:

- Another pair of jeans. Not sure what I would have discarded to fit these in, but have a surplus of tops to bottoms.
- Sports water bottle.
- Griff. Would be dead useful on the farm, that's all...
- A different hair colour. I have a good brown/red two tone going on with my roots at the moment. Nice.

Wherever I am, I love my bed...

A quick hello from inside my mosquito net.

The International Humanity Foundation

 So this is who I'm working for! It's a little charity with a lot of guts. The idea is to help provide education to poor and disadvantaged kids and also to provide education about poverty to those who have had all the advantages life has to offer. There are six IHF centres - four in Indonesia, one in Thailand and one in Kenya. The charity is funded mainly by individuals rather than grants and tries to keep a real ethos of personal communication between the people who support the charity and the kids who benefit from it.

Check out the brand spanking new Facebook page  and our twitter feed.

I'm at the IHF centre in Nakuru, in Kenya. Most of our children come from a region called Pokot. The Pokot tribes at the moment are not far away from starvation and walk hours a day to find water. We go there once a month with some of the kids to provide some emergency food and livestock. It's not much but it helps a bit. There is still real need close to home as well however. Even in Nakuru (Kenya's fourth largest town) kids are fainting in school from hunger. You can read about it here. It's scary being so close to such poverty.

Sick of home and homesickness

One of the main reasons I decided to up sticks and move to Kenya was because I was sick of home. This is said with the greatest love and respect to my friends and family - those closest to me know that I don't mean this in any negative way about them or our relationship. It's a luxury and a priviledge to be able to look at your surroundings and decide you'd like to change it - and be able to do so without much difficulty. I feel very lucky to have moved and know that I have the support of family and friends - and that they'll always be part of my life.

At home, I was sick of everything being as I expected it. I had a very nice, very comfortable life. I knew that I could close my eyes and sleepwalk through my days - and that I'd probably open them 10 years later and wonder where all the time had gone. Many of my friends were making big changes in their lives - deciding to marry, buying houses, having children. Whilst they weren't paths I was interested in taking, I was watching other people move forward into uncertain, exciting new futures. Meanwhile I was moving around in a cosy circle.

Now, I'm certainly out of my litte circle. I'm living in an orphanage, just on the outskirts of Nakuru, Kenya. I get up at 5.30am most days and I wash in a bucket (more on that later). Little kids in the street point, laugh and stare as, even though Nakuru is partly on the Kenyan tourist track, muzungos are still few and far between. I eat beans, maize flour and cabbage most days and constantly smell of mosquito repellent. Am I homesick? Not perhaps in the way most people think about it. I've no desire to return home, I don't miss familiar places, activities or luxuries. I love it here - I love the fact that everyday I'm struggling to figure out how to live, work, play. I love the heat and the landscape and the new places to explore and people to meet. However there is always a little ache - an ache that gets a bit bigger when I'm tired or stressed or hungry, or when I talk to people I love whose lives are moving on without me. It's an ache that I wouldn't want to be without and probably the day I can't feel it anymore is the day I'll know it's time to go home.