I made it to London!!! Even more, I made it through security :D Funny, this is only my second time flying. Funnier, I've only ever flown internationally and I managed to get spoiled both times (what can I say? The Swiss and the Brits take care of you!). I do have to say, I love flying. I have not yet found anything more exhilirating.
For some reason, I've never feared flying. Maybe I'm just lucky and happen to have good flights, maybe I just had to get over it (knowing I had to cross the ocean somehow), maybe I just have a sense of adventure, but I've never felt frightened by the prospect of flying. In all honesty, I love it. I love take off, I love landing and, dare I say, I find turbulence to be quite the adrenaline fix (who needs caffeine after THAT?). It just amazes me that we have created something that allows us to stay seven miles above the ground without completely disintegrating. Sometimes, it's like sailing in the arms of God.
I tend to find this attitude manifesting in other areas of my life. I've never been one to run from adventure in favor of the predictable. Quite the opposite, actually. I believe we should all take chances at what we want, despite how the rest of the world thinks we should feel about them. If I had listened to the rest of the world, I would not be en route to Kenya, now would I?
Halfway there.........It's never felt so incredible. It feels good to be alive.
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Friday, August 27, 2010
Two Days...........and I have no clue.....
So, I have about 46.5 hours till I fly (but who's counting, right?). You know what I just realized? I have no clue at all what's happening when I land...or even in between, for that matter. I, Ms. Regimented, Must-Plan-Every-Minute, have no idea what's going on. And for once, I don't seem to mind.
You see, I have only flown once. I flew to Europe on a guided tour three years ago. I didn't need to know what was going on. People told me where I needed to go, what to do, and I did it. Now, I'm flying solo, from NY to London, then maybe I'll meet up with some Kenya mates and fly out to Nairobi. Unlike Europe, I'll spend 18 hours total trying to get across the Earth's diameter. So just going from airport to airport will be an adventure.
I've also never had to apply for a visa. Of course, this time, I'll be going through customs with $50 in my hand to apply for it. I'll be going through customs by myself, which is a little intimidating. Then, I'll be meeting my country director, who will bring me back to my apartment, somehow......Did I mention I also have no idea who I'm rooming with?
Oh yeah, then we have orientation. Which "may be" out of the city. I have no idea where we're going, what we're doing, what's to be expected. I don't even know if I need to be on my malaria pills yet (oops............). Did I mention I have no idea what's going on?
This will be a good thing. If life was entirely planned, there'd be no adventure, no excitement, and no happiness. This is what Kenya is, it's an adventure. One I will enjoy every second of.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Three Days and High School Memories
So, three days, two crises and a suitcase to go. Thankfully, technology crises have been averted, though I'm marveling at the truth of Murphy's Law in regard to life changes. Suitcase still needs to be packed but at least most of what I need is together. The truly important stuff (passport, visa money, traveler's medicine) is already packed and most of my clothes are at least out. Finally, a moment to reflect on some memories, namely the memories I have of traveling with my parish youth group in high school. I found that many of these experiences helped shape the path I have chosen. This is not meant to proselytize, but just some thoughts and experiences I've had.
When I was in high school, I was a very new Catholic, trying to find ways to implement my faith. I knew that service was at the core but I was not sure how to apply that. Our parish had been involved with Group Workcamp Foundations, an ecumenical Christian organization that provides opportunities for teenagers to get involved in service. What we did was we went as a parish to complete a project that could be finished within the span of a week. For example, we may be painting someone's house or building a wheelchair ramp. To accomplish this, we were placed in work crews of other teens from different churches, backgrounds, regions of the country, you name it. In addition, we were immersed in our faith. Prayer/praise and worship in both morning and evening, devotions at lunch, and, for all of us Catholics, Mass at least three times that week (not including Sunday, provided our priest came with us. Yeah, that was a lot of church ;-)). The point of the trip was not necessarily to completely restore a broken neighborhood, but to learn how our values and beliefs translated into action.
Despite the heavy immersion of our faith, we never proselytized. It was completely contrary to our values to force people to pray, even suggest conversion or make passing out Bibles as our primary mission. Really, more than our religion, more than construction, we were supposed to get to know people, to see them as nothing less than human beings like ourselves, despite the obstacles they faced in life, despite the presence of money or how readily they accepted us. That went for both our residents and our work crews. The point of the week was to open our eyes to people's realities, to come to new understandings, and to learn who we are outside of markers such as social status and privilege.
Looking back, I am eternally grateful for the three years I participated. Those lessons, experiences, memories, and emotions have remained with me in ways I could not begin to comprehend. As I examine issues of poverty, privilege, values (Christian or non-Christian, Global North vs. Global South), I will take these with me. I think we all need to constantly examine our motives and values, to realize what truly helps rather than make ourselves out to be saviors (and thus hurt more than help). The world is not the white man's burden, it is everyone's blessing and one all must fight for to see that it is truly cherished and valued. We have this common duty, this privilege. Let's take advantage of it.
Friday, July 9, 2010
Foreign Aid-A Debate With the Doctor
OK, I didn't actually debate my doctor. There was no time. However, while vaccinating me, he noticed my copy of William Easterly's The White Man's Burden: Why the West's Efforts to Aid the Rest Have Done So Much Ill and So Little Good. I read this book for my International Development class, alongside Jeffrey Sachs' The End of Poverty: Economic Possibilities for Our Time, and found Easterly's arguments more compelling. He argues that, while foreign aid is a necessity, the West has been donating so much on an agenda that hasn't really proven beneficial to most of the developing world and has prevented a participatory approach for countries to solve their own problems.
Yet, a glance at the title prompted my doctor to ask me the following question.
"What burden?"
"Oh, just a critique on failures with foreign aid."
"You mean, the burden of saving people?"
His question gave me a moment of pause. Though my visit was quick and my doctor was all business, I got the sense that he was a deeply compassionate man who cared enough to make a difference. That's probably what prompted him to enter medical school and make health care his life. Yet I notice the argument constantly, that we need more aid, that we can save so many people from poverty if we just give more, that it's our nation's duty to give more in aid.
That's not Easterly's argument at all. While he is not against foreign aid in general (and, when asked, said he absolutely supported emergency aid to Haiti and other countries), he's finding that our policies with aid have pushed nations deeper into a cycle of poverty and dependence. For example, one policy the U.S. holds is that governments must use aid vouchers to purchase supplies from U.S. companies. While it may provide technology and food in the short run, this prevents countries from developing industries in those areas and keeps them dependent on coupons. Another example is the free bed nets for malaria. He said that what usually happened was they ended up on the black market or used as fishing nets and wedding veils. However, when sold at health clinics for modest prices in small villages and more expensive prices for richer folks in the cities, it assured that they would not only be used properly, but that they'd be in stock and that people could generate income for other needs. He said that we need to invest in A) simple, cheap preventative measures against widespread diseases, B) participatory measures that allow communities to prioritize needs, and C) investments in countries' markets rather than keeping them and their governments (benevolent and not) in a cycle of dependency reminiscent of colonialism.
I find myself agreeing with Easterly's premise, simply because it allows people to have a hand in their own destinies. I shouldn't be telling another country, "You have to spend money on this," rather, if a country asks for assistance, we should be asking, "What are the needs here?", "What do the people want?", "What actually works?" We need to keep in mind that money does not necessarily solve problems, that their are political, cultural, and historical contexts we need to keep in mind. Finally, we should not go in with the attempt to save people, building on a Messiah complex that has plagued the aid industry for so long. We should work on helping each other to build our own societies and design our destinies. Will it be a quick fix? Absolutely not. Will it be difficult? Yes. Will failures and mistakes happen? Yes, but we're all human and we learn through trial and error. All I know is that the parent-child model of foreign aid has to stop if we hope to make any progress. To me, that's development.
I do wonder how Kenya will impact my views on this. What does "development" look like? What does aid look like? How does it help or hinder the country's progress? Where do I fit in among this debate?
Yet, a glance at the title prompted my doctor to ask me the following question.
"What burden?"
"Oh, just a critique on failures with foreign aid."
"You mean, the burden of saving people?"
His question gave me a moment of pause. Though my visit was quick and my doctor was all business, I got the sense that he was a deeply compassionate man who cared enough to make a difference. That's probably what prompted him to enter medical school and make health care his life. Yet I notice the argument constantly, that we need more aid, that we can save so many people from poverty if we just give more, that it's our nation's duty to give more in aid.
That's not Easterly's argument at all. While he is not against foreign aid in general (and, when asked, said he absolutely supported emergency aid to Haiti and other countries), he's finding that our policies with aid have pushed nations deeper into a cycle of poverty and dependence. For example, one policy the U.S. holds is that governments must use aid vouchers to purchase supplies from U.S. companies. While it may provide technology and food in the short run, this prevents countries from developing industries in those areas and keeps them dependent on coupons. Another example is the free bed nets for malaria. He said that what usually happened was they ended up on the black market or used as fishing nets and wedding veils. However, when sold at health clinics for modest prices in small villages and more expensive prices for richer folks in the cities, it assured that they would not only be used properly, but that they'd be in stock and that people could generate income for other needs. He said that we need to invest in A) simple, cheap preventative measures against widespread diseases, B) participatory measures that allow communities to prioritize needs, and C) investments in countries' markets rather than keeping them and their governments (benevolent and not) in a cycle of dependency reminiscent of colonialism.
I find myself agreeing with Easterly's premise, simply because it allows people to have a hand in their own destinies. I shouldn't be telling another country, "You have to spend money on this," rather, if a country asks for assistance, we should be asking, "What are the needs here?", "What do the people want?", "What actually works?" We need to keep in mind that money does not necessarily solve problems, that their are political, cultural, and historical contexts we need to keep in mind. Finally, we should not go in with the attempt to save people, building on a Messiah complex that has plagued the aid industry for so long. We should work on helping each other to build our own societies and design our destinies. Will it be a quick fix? Absolutely not. Will it be difficult? Yes. Will failures and mistakes happen? Yes, but we're all human and we learn through trial and error. All I know is that the parent-child model of foreign aid has to stop if we hope to make any progress. To me, that's development.
I do wonder how Kenya will impact my views on this. What does "development" look like? What does aid look like? How does it help or hinder the country's progress? Where do I fit in among this debate?
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Adventures to the Travel Clinic
I am pleased to announce that, as of today, I am vaccinated against yellow fever and polio and will be completely vaccinated against typhoid fever by the end of next week (oral vaccine, which is currently hanging out in my refrigerator). In addition, I received the second shot in a chicken pox series, the first in a Hep A series, and a DPT booster a couple weeks ago and picked up prescriptions for Cipro (antibiotic for traveler's diarrhea) and Malarone (anti-malarial prophylaxis).
It was a quick visit, just a brief consultation in the doctor's office where he looked up requirements and administered the vaccines. He gave me basic precautions and prescriptions, told me what to look out for, and affirmed my desire to travel (he emigrated to America at a time when young people had no idea about the rest of the world).
I'm so stoked. It's even more real, more than the ticket. $350 for shots and preventative medications. $350 toward an investment for the rest of my life. It's crazy.
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Interfaith Issues in Kenya
As a practicing Catholic, I found it interesting that Kenya had as high a percentage of Catholics as it does. According to CIA World Factbook, 33% of the people are Catholic, eight percent higher than in the U.S. In addition, 45% of people identify as Protestant (mostly Anglican, due to British influence), leading to an overwhelming Christian majority. CIA World Factbook also mentions a 10% Muslim minority, with a disclaimer that these numbers can be disputed. I didn't think much about that last statistic until I read this article here.
The article in question talks about a proposition that would ban sharia courts from Kenya. For those who do not know, sharia is the legal system adherents of Islam follow. When implemented within a national framework, Muslims will handle legal disputes within their own communities rather than through a secular court system (unless, of course, the secular courts are under sharia law). In Kenya, these courts are protected by the constitution and only apply to the Muslim communities. However, this vote would overturn that ruling, stating that sharia law has no place in a secular nation like Kenya. This proposition is backed by many Christian groups in both Kenya and the U.S., groups that see Islam as a violent faith in opposition to their own.
While I believe religious courts of any kind should be accountable to the State in order to ensure basic human rights protections, I also find it appalling that self-proclaimed Christians would use this as an excuse to persecute people for believing differently. For a religion founded specifically to stand for the rights of the poor and oppressed (of which Muslims in Kenya are), this is astounding. In addition, as someone who supports human rights, I believe people should have the right to choose how to run their own communities, how to resolve disputes between members of these communities, and how to implement practice of their faith in their lives. In my opinion, with regard to certain aspects of sharia law (Muslim marriage, divorce, etc), the Kenyan government, as a secular nation, has no business interfering.
It also enrages me that Christian groups in the U.S. have been fueling the fire of persecution in African politics (such as Uganda's homosexuality ruling or this recent tension in Kenya). To me, this is another facet of Western imperialism, just like our aid politics, our trade decisions, and our governmental inference. Rather than showing genuine Christian concern for the plight of different peoples (domestic and international), these groups are using Jesus as a puppet to spew their own personal agenda, one of domination and subjugation. The fact that someone twists the God I claim to follow, one who teaches compassion, mercy, and equality, makes me hurt for the people affected by this.
I hope and pray these disputes are resolved in a peaceful manner. I pray that the tension is reversed and that people can learn to live peacefully, Christian and Muslim. I also hope that people can realize the impact of their actions, whether globally, politically, or economically. To me, this is proof that we have a much larger impact than we realize. Let it be a good one.
The article in question talks about a proposition that would ban sharia courts from Kenya. For those who do not know, sharia is the legal system adherents of Islam follow. When implemented within a national framework, Muslims will handle legal disputes within their own communities rather than through a secular court system (unless, of course, the secular courts are under sharia law). In Kenya, these courts are protected by the constitution and only apply to the Muslim communities. However, this vote would overturn that ruling, stating that sharia law has no place in a secular nation like Kenya. This proposition is backed by many Christian groups in both Kenya and the U.S., groups that see Islam as a violent faith in opposition to their own.
While I believe religious courts of any kind should be accountable to the State in order to ensure basic human rights protections, I also find it appalling that self-proclaimed Christians would use this as an excuse to persecute people for believing differently. For a religion founded specifically to stand for the rights of the poor and oppressed (of which Muslims in Kenya are), this is astounding. In addition, as someone who supports human rights, I believe people should have the right to choose how to run their own communities, how to resolve disputes between members of these communities, and how to implement practice of their faith in their lives. In my opinion, with regard to certain aspects of sharia law (Muslim marriage, divorce, etc), the Kenyan government, as a secular nation, has no business interfering.
It also enrages me that Christian groups in the U.S. have been fueling the fire of persecution in African politics (such as Uganda's homosexuality ruling or this recent tension in Kenya). To me, this is another facet of Western imperialism, just like our aid politics, our trade decisions, and our governmental inference. Rather than showing genuine Christian concern for the plight of different peoples (domestic and international), these groups are using Jesus as a puppet to spew their own personal agenda, one of domination and subjugation. The fact that someone twists the God I claim to follow, one who teaches compassion, mercy, and equality, makes me hurt for the people affected by this.
I hope and pray these disputes are resolved in a peaceful manner. I pray that the tension is reversed and that people can learn to live peacefully, Christian and Muslim. I also hope that people can realize the impact of their actions, whether globally, politically, or economically. To me, this is proof that we have a much larger impact than we realize. Let it be a good one.
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Embracing the Unexpected
Six months ago (nearly to the day), I was with a group of dear friends, about to ring in the new year in New York City. I had a wonderful time, sipping sangria and tasting tapas with these amazing people, at a Spanish restaurant on 10th Avenue. We spent the night at one of their houses and went back into the city the next morning. During the drive back, everyone was talking about their trips to Africa (they all did the program I am doing and two ended up returning to the continent). I commented that I was the only one in our group who had not been and had no plans to be there any time soon.
Ha. Ha. HA! Yes, that was God laughing. What was it? Man plans, God laughs?
I did not expect to be planning a trip to Kenya a mere three weeks later.
To be perfectly honest, Kenya tugged at my heart for six months before I truly began to listen. However, I didn't because it didn't fit with The Plan. I planned to be done with school by this coming December. I planned to go to Mexico for the summer, to take advanced Spanish classes and immerse myself in Mexican culture. My academic career had not even included Africa. I had taken classes on Latin America, Europe, Spanish, and Italian. The closest class I had taken was a class on Islam (which is like taking a class on Catholicism to count for studying the Philippines). I also had finances to consider. After all, in addition to keeping me in school for a semester longer, I had program fees, a plane ticket, expensive shots and medications, and food to consider.
Yet, when I started school again, Kenya became more insistent. It just kept coming up, in classes, in conversations, in readings, in prayer, and in thoughts. I felt pursued, captured, sucked in, as if I had seen a beautiful person and needed to find why they captivated me so. Three weeks later, in a conversation with a fellow student, she mentioned how she intended to study in Nairobi. She was the one who gave me the final push (not to be confused with Sachs' Big Push, for all the ID geeks reading this ;-)), the push to not only acknowledge my burning desire, but to do something about it. A conversation with my mother encouraged me to take the plunge.
Throughout this process, I've learned to embrace the unexpected. I never thought I'd have the opportunity to go to Africa before I finished college. At the same time, I never expected to find such determination inside of myself, the willingness to sacrifice so much for an adventure. I also never expected to have so many people support me, for no other reason than they truly wanted me to go. I never thought I'd be standing, on the brink of womanhood, on the edge of my academic career, with an adventure in Africa to look forward to. Nor did I expect to be as humbled as I am already, with so many turning out, ready to help me make this a possibility.
To be quite frank, I have no clue what to expect in Kenya. Yes, I know what classes I'll be taking. I know the basic facts, thanks to State Department, the CIA and the CDC. I've heard countless stories, from these same friends and others. I know people from Kenya who give their own encouragement and stories. I know what my program offers. At the same time, I really don't know anything. I don't know how this experience will change me. I don't know how my perceptions of Kenya will change. I don't know how my path will change, how my thoughts on my field work will change. I don't know how my relationships with other people (including these three) will change. I don't know how my thoughts on my own culture, country and national/ethnic identities will change. I don't know how my faith will change.
At the same time, I see this as a chance to plunge into the unknown, to tear down my ego and need for control so that I can enjoy the spontaneous adventures. I see this as the opportunity to allow my brain to learn something new and be receptive to loving people in a different way. I see this as the path that leads me to new paths, to new ways of life and new forms of thought. I see this as the chance to truly grow in ways only an African adventure can allow you to grow. Finally, I see this as the chance for my soul to finally breathe.
Life's challenges are about embracing the unexpected. This entire process has helped me to do just that.
Ha. Ha. HA! Yes, that was God laughing. What was it? Man plans, God laughs?
I did not expect to be planning a trip to Kenya a mere three weeks later.
To be perfectly honest, Kenya tugged at my heart for six months before I truly began to listen. However, I didn't because it didn't fit with The Plan. I planned to be done with school by this coming December. I planned to go to Mexico for the summer, to take advanced Spanish classes and immerse myself in Mexican culture. My academic career had not even included Africa. I had taken classes on Latin America, Europe, Spanish, and Italian. The closest class I had taken was a class on Islam (which is like taking a class on Catholicism to count for studying the Philippines). I also had finances to consider. After all, in addition to keeping me in school for a semester longer, I had program fees, a plane ticket, expensive shots and medications, and food to consider.
Yet, when I started school again, Kenya became more insistent. It just kept coming up, in classes, in conversations, in readings, in prayer, and in thoughts. I felt pursued, captured, sucked in, as if I had seen a beautiful person and needed to find why they captivated me so. Three weeks later, in a conversation with a fellow student, she mentioned how she intended to study in Nairobi. She was the one who gave me the final push (not to be confused with Sachs' Big Push, for all the ID geeks reading this ;-)), the push to not only acknowledge my burning desire, but to do something about it. A conversation with my mother encouraged me to take the plunge.
Throughout this process, I've learned to embrace the unexpected. I never thought I'd have the opportunity to go to Africa before I finished college. At the same time, I never expected to find such determination inside of myself, the willingness to sacrifice so much for an adventure. I also never expected to have so many people support me, for no other reason than they truly wanted me to go. I never thought I'd be standing, on the brink of womanhood, on the edge of my academic career, with an adventure in Africa to look forward to. Nor did I expect to be as humbled as I am already, with so many turning out, ready to help me make this a possibility.
To be quite frank, I have no clue what to expect in Kenya. Yes, I know what classes I'll be taking. I know the basic facts, thanks to State Department, the CIA and the CDC. I've heard countless stories, from these same friends and others. I know people from Kenya who give their own encouragement and stories. I know what my program offers. At the same time, I really don't know anything. I don't know how this experience will change me. I don't know how my perceptions of Kenya will change. I don't know how my path will change, how my thoughts on my field work will change. I don't know how my relationships with other people (including these three) will change. I don't know how my thoughts on my own culture, country and national/ethnic identities will change. I don't know how my faith will change.
At the same time, I see this as a chance to plunge into the unknown, to tear down my ego and need for control so that I can enjoy the spontaneous adventures. I see this as the opportunity to allow my brain to learn something new and be receptive to loving people in a different way. I see this as the path that leads me to new paths, to new ways of life and new forms of thought. I see this as the chance to truly grow in ways only an African adventure can allow you to grow. Finally, I see this as the chance for my soul to finally breathe.
Life's challenges are about embracing the unexpected. This entire process has helped me to do just that.
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