Back to the Watoto: Scams, Tony and Me Being Kenyan

First off, I must apologize (again) for the lack of blogging. While I had wireless available, it was the actual networks that did not cooperate, making communication very frustrating or non-existent. I do believe this persistent and irritating situation will be rectified when we hook into Kenya Power. That said, KP is becoming a bit of a problem. We, like all in our growing community, are becoming more and more irritated with KP, by the day. The excuse of rain held for one week, two weeks ago. Funny things happen when a community bands together and gangs up on a government owned monopoly. We are actually the least irritated, because we have solar power. Our neighbors have neither solar power or water. The entire community, however, is hounding KP and have delivered our ultimatum: get here by Wednesday or refund our money. We'll see...I'm betting we will be fighting for the refund, because no one is interested in doling out a little kikidogo: paying bribes.

Children are one third of our population and all of our future.

~ Select Panel for the Promotion of Child Health, 1981

I was enjoying coffee on my porch Saturday morning, speaking with Sammy and David, our two shamba workers. Sammy was explaining to me that he wanted to build "Simmie's garden" in front of Nyumba Yangu. Thrilled, I requested flowers, an herb garden and "nothing that will grow too high", as my view is too lovely to spoil. They both laughed and told me they had lots in mind. We have newly planted orange and mango trees, and I'd like to see a few more of these, please! Tony later chimed in after I remarked that our maize had grown before my eyes this week: "When you get back, you're going to be too scared to live here, because no one will see you. The askaris won't know you're here. Chuckle chuckle." Thanks, Tony. I was envisioning some horror film where people get maimed and buried in corn fields. Anyway, I am being educated as to each plant that goes into our vast shamba, and loving it. As we were chatting, I could see a man lurking on the other side of the fence. I chose to ignore him, until he called out to me. We said our hellos and he rushed to explain to me that he had purchased a plot just a bit away from Nyumba Yangu; his son was staying in the makeshift hut, he had been anxious to come meet me and thank me for the work we are doing for the children, God Bless, the entire community sees you as a "savior, (saver, maybe?) and on and on. Oh and by the way, "May we have water, I cannot build my home without it. God will bless you." I stared at this man politely, always grateful that mind reading is not possible. " Jina langu Simmie", I said, holding out my hand in introduction. He knew this already. "My name is Innocent." Oh, the irony. "You will need to discuss this with my manager, Innocent. You are aware we don't have electricity?" Pumping is out of the question; it is far too costly and we are not prepared. Importantly, we are not interested, at least not yet. Innocent was aware, of course, so he quickly volunteered: "Oh, I will pay!! I don't expect anything for free!! Not me!" I wouldn't even give him Tony's number. "Please give me your mobile and I will pass it on." I didn't say: in due time.

Children see magic, because they look for it.

~ Christopher Moore, writer

With each successive trip, my partnership with Tony deepens. When he is fuming over something, I am the voice of reason. When I am ranting over people trying to take advantage of us, the children or me, he twists the conversation into comedy gold. "Kenyans are stupid, Simmie," he announces - as if the thought has never crossed my mind. We were in the market the other day, and the usual "salesman" was carrying caps. Tony stopped him to look and I jumped in: "Have at it, Tony, I'm happy to buy you a cap", and handed the guy 200ksh, left this exchange and walked on to the next thing. Tony picked out his cap and the salesman walked over to me, handing me a 50ksh note: "Take your change." I quickly pocketed it and once again, was glad mind reading is impossible. Tony later told me the man was irked that Tony wouldn't let him bargain with me. "Why wouldn't you let me charge the mzungu 300 or 350??" "Is she wearing this cap?? You make no sense." Tony barked. Tony has a way of deliberately confusing people when it comes to negotiations. Its impossible not to laugh, so it's best I stand back rather than ruin the scamming attempt by choking back a guffaw.

The long rains have arrived

When one of my "substitute" drivers, Peter, picked Cary, Tarak and me up one morning, I already knew the cost of this job: 1000ksh for the day ($10 USD). Of course, much to Cary's irritation, Peter pulled into a petrol station. She knows this tactic all too well. Kenyan drivers put 1-2 liters of petrol in their cars at a time. They know exactly how much is needed to get from point A to point B. Peter however, has stretched himself too thin before, and actually run out of gas. Feeling generous and wanting to avoid getting stuck on the side of the road, I handed the attendant 2000ksh. The next day, Peter picked us up again and delivered us to Tony. I handed Peter the agreed upon 1000ksh. I knew something was wrong, and was prepared when he called me back. "I need another 1000, Simmie". I argued over this, but quickly grew too irritated and tossed him the 1000ksh note, but not without strong words attached to it. Peter had just lost my trust and importantly, the two week driving job (3000ksh a day) for the Recorders Without Borders teachers, this coming July. Scamming has consequences, no matter how small the details.

Only where children gather is there any real chance of fun.

~ Mignon McLaughlin

I always fill Tony's vehicle when I am in Kenya. We pulled in the next day and I handed the attendant cash. Tony was busy under the hood, and we were all talking in the car. Usually, my eyes are fixed on the pump, because attendants (even at legit stations such as Total or Shell) will all scam the customers, and not just mzungus. This time, Tony caught it: Simmie, you gave him 5k??? The scamming attendant typically casually walked back to the pump, said nothing and added another 1k. On the way into Nairobi tonight, we pulled into another station and I said "Jeza!" which means "fill it". No "please", just fill it. Tony and I exchanged smug looks before he yelled out the window "And start at ZERO!" Usually one of us has to get out of the car to monitor the attendant, and this time it was Tony. He was even shaking the vehicle to make room for more petrol.

The best way to make children good is to make them happy.

~ Oscar Wilde

A sleeping dog awoke. I went back to camp with Cary and Tarak one night, and Tony asked me to sit and talk. Agnes had called him, and the exchange was not pleasant. There are two girls at Nagolie who are being sponsored from the outside. I communicate with both sponsors, because it is in the girl's best interests and most definitely makes the sponsor's job easier. If either sponsor ever sent money directly to the (non existent) manager at this home, to take care of this, one could be assured that the girl's school fees would be pocketed, and these two girls would be denied sponsorship. These two sponsors are very serious and dedicated, and Tony and I are equally committed to doing what is right, for all of us. Oftentimes it is not easy, requires much of our time and would be a burden to many, but not us. We are each sent the funds, and even do the pre-term required shopping. If I'm not there, Jecinta (Tony's wife) will do the shopping. Tony then takes the girls to school, and delivers them back to Nagolie during breaks. On this particular day, Tony drove to Nagolie to speak with the girls and get the lists of required items. What he found was the children alone. There was no adult on the compound. 20 minutes after leaving, he got a threatening phone call from Agnes, all familiar and repeated. Tony happens to have an app on his phone that records every call. "For my protection." We listened to the 10 minute exchange (Tony barely got a word in) which was offensive and very unpleasant. Tony's presence at the home threatened Agnes, who took the offense quickly so that she could divert any trouble away from her neglect. While I didn't understand much of the conversation, I got the jist of it, and heard my name mentioned twice. When done, I told Tony not to go back there again. "Pay the school fees, but do NOT purchase items." We have been doing this to prevent headaches and keep the peace, but no more. "Let Nagolie figure out how to get the children to school. Do not take this abuse again. It is not in the best interests of WWC."

I give these incidents, because they are part of daily life in Kenya. Nothing is ever as easy as it could or should be. Complications, diversions, attempted scams and requests for money are routine. I realized how "Kenyan" I have become his trip, because of Cary. Cary is an astute observer, and has been through much of the hell I went through years ago. She was quick to add her opinion, oftentimes laced with disgust. The difference is, I have learned to work with it, around it and plow through it. I don't even mind much of it anymore - in fact, I enjoy the challenge. Take care of the problem and move on to the next. A lot of the incidents we encountered prompted deep discussion between Cary, Tarak and me. Their insights told me that while I agree with them and can hash over the incidents just as much as the next person, I have moved to a different place. I pick my battles and say what I have to say, and move on. Kenyans really don't "do rude". In fact, when my neighbor Joseph was trying to hunt me down all week, I avoided him, because I knew what the hunt was. This morning, he brought a gift, two pair of earrings his wife made for me. I graciously thanked him and replaced the earrings I was wearing with the new ones. Lovely gesture, but there really are no physical gifts in Kenya; something is always presented with a motive behind the giving. Joseph then asked me for $400 to start a business. I took my earrings off and gave them back. Naturally he refused, but still? He didn't give up. We had a long discussion about cultural differences, which was very healthy. Its always a delicate balance, because I now "live" in this community. These are my neighbors after all, and it's up to all of us to work together. Pole pole (slowly, slowly), my neighbors will realize that giving doesn't always mean physical materials. They are also realizing that I don't give away the store. Never mistake my kindness as a weakness.

Pretty much all the honest truth telling there is in the world is done by children.

~ Oliver Wendell Holmes

The real gifts are the children, Tony and Watoto World Center. I've said it before and I will keep saying it: we are making wonderful progress. I am much tougher on the staff, and suddenly finding myself disciplining the children. "If I didn't take the time to do this, it would mean I don't care." They got it. Tony and I are on the same page and know our places, so to speak. It works beautifully. We have both grown, and oftentimes, we appear to take on one another's attributes. Tony is far more comfortable in his skin than he was a decade ago. Contrarily, when in Kenya, sometimes I feel like a different person. We are in sync. WWC is a full time job for Tony, along with his two electronic shops. We clearly share the passion, which is truly what makes everything work. That, and a healthy dose of shared humor.

That a child can endure so much trauma in his/her young life and still manage to love, is a testament to the human spirit. We must nurture and tend to this spirit, as if it were our own. We have a great responsibility and obligation to the next generation, especially those who have lost everything.

~ Simmie Issenberg

A child can ask a thousand questions that the wisest man cannot answer.

~ Jacob Abbot

From somewhere over the African continent, we are on our way home. It is always a great trip for me, but like the last one, it was enhanced by having Cary and Tarak with me. Thank you both for your time, insights and support. It didn't take a rocket scientist to see how pleased they both were with the organization. That was my greatest gift: validation.