Kuira part II -- A Fourth of July Thought

Salama (another way that Kenyans say hello that points to the Arabic that floats through kii-swahili)

Quick administrative note: I heard that people were having trouble commenting on the blog and investigated. I had it set so that you could only comment with a user name, but I changed it earlier today so that now you can post anonymous comments. This should make it easier to post comments. If you're still having trouble email me at my gmail account (mhspivack@gmail.com) and I'll play around with the settings again. If you do make anonymous comments tell me who you are!

I'm back in Nairobi tonight staying at the ever friendly Ufungamano House. I have to say after being out in the rural area and living in someones home it really nice to just have my own room and a sink and a shower. Where I was staying in Kuira had no running water, so I was "showering" (that's what they call it but I don't agree with the term" by pouring water from a tub over myself. They use very hot water so it was refreshing, but I don't think I was getting clean. I think I could have done a better job at the washing from the tub thing, I'll work on improving this week when I go back out to the rural.

I haven't spent a lot of time talking about nature, but it is worth mentioning. I'm going to upload photos tonight and then I'll try to see if I can post them tomorrow. The strange thing about Kenya is that (as Edward, my boss from SOTENI told me today) it is a land of contrasts. Terrible poverty in the midst of natural beauty is one of the many contrasts of this country. I have seen so many different types of butterflies here. I haven't managed to get a picture of any of them, but it is really interesting, they are every where. Seeing a butterfly at home is pretty uncommon, but I saw them all of the time in Kuria. Also, the nights there are unbelievable. After finishing dinner (usually around nine) I would go outside to brush my teeth and not need a flash light, because the moon was so bright. It was so bright that you could see things clearly, if shadowy, so bright that you had a shadow, a prominent shadow. I have never seen anything like it (again I think Florence and Josephine thought I was a little nuts because of my fascination with the moon). But really, I have read poems and heard songs that talk about "moonlight" but I realized last week that we don't really have moonlight at home, not they way that the do when the moon is between half full and full in Kuira.

Kuira is a very fertile area (Edward calls it poverty in the midst of plenty) and unlike Ugenya I don't get the sense that people or children are hungry, there is just not a lot of opportunity and very little money circulating in the economy. The farms there are very productive. The SOTENI coordinator, Mathias took us to his shaba (small farm) and showed us the cassava, millet, maize, mango, and avocado he grows. He also keeps bees. he has three acres of land that could easily feed his family, and he also rents another two acres where he grows more cassava, just to sell for profit. I was talking to him about his little agri-business and he told me that land in Kuria is cheap and fertile (he can rent and acre of land for two years for ksh4,000 (about $50), labor is also relatively cheap, he can pay men ksh200 (about $2.50) to work for him for the day. And he predicts that he will turn a profit of about ksh150,000 (about $1970) on the land that he rented (that includes all of the labor, seed, and other input costs). He said that anyone can turn this kind of profit on land that they own or lease in Kuria, but as he said, they need to be able to plan. I also pointed out that they need the capital upfront to pay for the seeds workers and other inputs, since the cash won't come in until after the harvest. He said that that's true, but that it is all part of the planning process. Almost everyone in Kuria has a shamba (small personal farm) but I don't get the sense that they are as business savvy as Mathias is. If people in Kuria could get better at planning, and if they could organize in collectives to sell their crops to more distant markets (food prices are relatively low in their fertile region, in other parts of Kenya and the world food prices are rising, but many of the farmers in the area aren't benefiting from higher world prices) they should be able to lift themselves out of poverty. (sorry for all the economics, I just find this issue really interesting.)

Part of what makes the poverty in the rural areas so sad is that there are definitely natural resources available to improve everyone's' quality of life, but the system is broken in so many ways on so many levels that its really hard to harness what already exists. Some seemingly crazy things go on in these areas but when I think about it its just everyone trying to get by, trying to pursue their best interests within the given system.

Every system (political, economic, and social) in every country has flaws. I know I used to be (and still am, though to a lesser degree) a major critic of the US governments actions in the past and the present. I also know that many of us are still very critical of the US government. We vocally criticize flaws in the health care system, the education system, and the way our government operates. Obviously we have the right to complain, but this Fourth of July looking back home from Kenya I see more to celebrate in the US than ever before.

In the United States we complain that health care is too expensive, but when there is a major accident or emergency we have a network of ambulances and helicopters to get the person to the best possible facility in the shortest amount of time. We complain that we are becoming an unhealthy nation, but the average American will live to be 78, more than twenty years longer than the average Kenyan whose life expectancy at birth is 56 (www.nationmaster.com). We complain that our education system is broken and that children in economically disadvantaged areas are being cheated out of an decent education, but we have 100% FREE education for every single child for thirteen years. In Kenya even the public schools charge fees that make educating children financially impossible, and that's before the cost of uniforms, books, and lunches. There is no child in the United States who does not attend school because their parents are too poor. We complain that our government is inefficient, but we have one of the most extensive systems of paved roads in the world, pot holes are rare, and when it rains the roads do not become mud puddles. In Kenya many of the roads are dirt, they are bumpy to the point of being dangerous, and they make moving goods and people around the country difficult. We complain about partisanship, but when we have an election the apposing parties don't take to the streets in violent clashes that threaten national security.

So today on the Fourth of July I am realizing, more than I ever have before, how uncommonly blessed I am to have been born in a country where health care, education and government, though imperfect are existent. The blessings that we all enjoy, simply by accident of birth, cannot be taken for granted.

Happy Birthday America. My birthday wish (I'll share it and pretend that its not bad luck) is that more countries in the world can find a their own paths towards the stability that is enjoyed by all of your citizens.