Back in 2012 when I was in Rwanda, I had the great fortune to meet a dynamic duo from South Africa who were on transit from London to Cape Town... by bike. Tom and Matt cycled 501 incredible days from Tom's home in the UK to Matt's native South Africa and made some amazing memories along the way. Two and a half years on, Tom has created a travel cookbook of their journey, and it's about to be hot off the presses. Called The Nomadic Kitchen, this book is testament to the joys, discoveries, and challenges of travel that have inspired me to take on a global life and career. I highly recommend you check out the website for more! 

Flowers, tea, and the end of month two

Once every couple of weeks, Rebecca and I stop for flowers on our walk home from work. Nairobi, while sometimes chaotic, smoggy, and clogged with traffic, is also chockablock full of bright greenery. These flowers were growing wild in the hills just outside of Nairobi and are typical of the city landscape.

A couple of weekends ago a couple of friends and I went to a tea farm in Tigoni, just outside of Nairobi. We heard from the owner of the farm, a lively 70 year-old woman whose grandfather moved to Kenya from Scotland and started the farm on 60 acres of rolling hills. Now reduced to 2 acres, the farm still produces tea. She spoke to us about growing tea, tea production, and maintenance of the fields. As a self-proclaimed lover of tea, I was thrilled to learn so much about the plant that has provided so much comfort and cosy, familiar times for me. We took a tour of the grounds (see the picture at left) and surrounding woods, after which we had a fabulous, multi-course buffet lunch. Did I consider jumping ship and starting up my own tea farm or WWOOFing on one? You betcha! I'll be tucking that idea away for my post-fellowship plans... 

I'm finding that post-grad life has given me a fair amount of downtime outside of work, which means that I'm slowing down and appreciating the smaller things in life. The picture at right shows some of the simplicity that I've been appreciating recently. At top is tea, as it grows on the bush and ready to be picked. At bottom left is a tree tomato, a deliciously tart fruit that is excellent by itself and with yogurt, cheese, or oatmeal (I haven't yet exhausted all possible pairings). At bottom right is the bouquet of flowers we picked up yesterday; the flowers are now sitting in various bottles and glasses around our dining and living room. Other silver linings of post-grad freedom? I've found a used guitar and am learning to play! I love live music and am enjoying the task of learning something totally new. I'm finding that sitting with a cup of coffee and practicing a few chords is a beautiful way to wake up.

Juniper Kitchen

One of my favorite weekend activities has been getting together with the PiAf fellows and friends and doing a lazy brunch. In fact, my first full day here we went to a monthly brunch, called the Juniper Kitchen, held at the beautiful home of an Australian expat. My friend and fellow fellow Camille Pendley-- who incidentally made us a Southern-inspired brunch last weekend that I won't soon forget-- wrote a piece on the Juniper Kitchen, which has just been published in the New York Times' 'Bites' column! It's a great read and shows a snapshot of one of my favorite Nairobi pastimes. 

Between the Lines

I do a fair amount of reading for my job-- reports, budgets, budget narratives, log frames, concept notes, and proposals. Though I find myself sitting at my desk in Nairobi Monday through Friday, I spend 90% of my time mentally 680 miles away in Turkana County. The IRC runs two offices in Turkana, the largest and most northeastern of Kenya's counties, in Kakuma and Lodwar. In recent months, these two operations have absorbed thousands of refugees fleeing conflict in South Sudan. I had the privilege of teaching a unit on South Sudan at the leadership conference I worked at this summer. I think back to the misshapen map I would draw on the dry-erase board and the passionate discussions my high school students would have about the humanitarian crisis in the country. To be here, literally on the other side of it, is humbling and eye-opening. In many ways, the IRC's work is the frontline response these refugees meet when they cross into Kenya. Through my work, I get a factual and numbers-based understanding of what this looks like and the targeted ways the IRC's programs respond to the challenges. I haven't yet had the chance to visit Kakuma or Lodwar, but I work with the field staff daily to support their programs and ensure clear communication between them and the donors. One of my colleagues has written two pieces on the work of the IRC in response to the influx of refugees. You can read 'Twice a Refugee' and 'Silenced Minds: unshackling people with mental illness at Kakuma' on the IRC website. 

Human Needs Project

One aspect of Nairobi has proven particularly hard to reconcile, and that's the juxtaposition of wealth and poverty throughout the city. Junction is an American-style mall about a 45 minute walk from our apartment; complete with a fro-yo place, Century theaters, and Levis, it's strikingly reminiscent of shopping back home. Not 10 minutes from Junction though is Kibera, one of Nairobi's largest slums. Until this past weekend, I'm embarrassed to say, I'd been to Junction at least six times and to Kibera not once. That changed when a friend of Rebecca's offered to introduce us to the Human Needs Project on Sunday morning.

We met Rebecca's friend, an employee of the Human Needs Project, at a nearby coffee house, and she drove us into the slum, passing shops, churches, and stalls through rutted streets streaming with people to Kibera's main center. There, we found ourselves at the doorstep of the Human Needs Project, a community and town center. The vision of Danish actress Connie Nielsen, the HNP opened a mere three months ago and is already an impressive addition to Kibera. In just one building, it provides laundry facilities (both machine and hand-washing), male and female bathrooms complete with showers, classrooms, an internet cafe, a food-and-coffee cafe, and fresh water station where community members can fill up jerrycans with clean, safe water. The building sits on top of the borehole that started it all; when Connie completed filming a movie in Kibera, she asked the community if they wanted for anything and the reply was access to water. The HNP houses an impressive water filtration system that draws its source from an aquifer 300 meters deep and its inspiration from the rock-and-sand, gravity-driven filtration systems developed by the Romans. Now I'm no water engineer (in fact, I'm not any kind of engineer and last looked at a calculus textbook in high school) but I was in awe of how the HNP manages and maximizes the resources at its disposal. Everything about the building was innovative, from the plants that act as natural insect repellents to the gray-water that's recycled to the solar panels being installed on the roof. What's more, the founder insists that this be a place that is first and foremost owned by the community; thus community members must pay to use the facilities. It's staffed by residents of Kibera who are trained in skills that they can market to gain employment elsewhere in Nairobi. The HNP is designed to advance and support the potential of Kibera's residents: internet services are meant to be used to manage email, draft a resume or CV, and connect with employers; classes are held to give training in finance management and technical skills; women use laundry facilities to expand clothes-washing businesses. It's even lit up at night to provide security for those in the surrounding area. 

Over a cappuccino at the cafe, we discussed the challenges the HNP faces in its early stages. Some in the community voice skepticism about the building; it rises high above the surrounding aluminum-sheeted rooftops and is initially an intimidating presence. Some of the services prove to luxurious for community members. Our guide shared with us that for every 1 woman that uses the shower facilities, 12 men do the same. She explained that at 12 shillings (about 14 cents US), showers are an expensive commodity for women who must make their daily allowances support food, water, and other needs of the family. Men, she finds, are much more likely to use 12 shillings of their day's work for a shower on the way to or from work. Whether or not this reflects something about the gendered dimensions of money management, disposable time, or facility usage, the HNP is constantly brainstorming ways to reach out to the community and create a space that serves the potential and the needs of individuals. 

I left looking forward to my next visit to HNP and to seeing how it adapts in its first year. Ideally, if the project is successful it will be scaled up to other, similar areas in Nairobi and around the world. I'll admit, I raised an eyebrow when I first heard that a Hollywood actress had started a project in Kibera. But from everything the community members and staff said Connie makes a genuine and concerted effort to visit as often as possible and can be found sleeves rolled up, baking in the kitchen, cleaning in the bathrooms, and toiling away in the HNP office. A remarkable project with what looks like a bright future, HNP was well worth the visit and a wonderful introduction to Kibera. 

It also got me thinking about needs and how much in life I actually require to live. I'm as guilty as anyone of confusing 'need' and 'want': I 'need' a cup of coffee, some chocolate, new work clothes, a change of scene. I have what I truly need in life: my basics covered (food, water, shelter) and I'm blessed to have family and friends I love and that reciprocate. I've had gainful academic and professional opportunities that have been fulfilling and have supported my development. What struck me about the HNP was that it didn't profess a formula for meeting needs that was very different from what I would prescribe for myself. It sees the potential and not the poor in Kibera's communities, which is exactly how I want to be seen by those who support me-- for what I offer and my potential to grow.