Ran into Dede riding a bike by the police station in ISiolo.
I can’t think of much to say about this jacket, but I wish I had one.
Archive for the 'Just Hanging Out' Category
Keys
Published November 5, 2009 Isiolo , Just Hanging Out , Residents and Friends Leave a CommentTags: Dede, Isiolo, Jacket, Kenya, Photo
Keeping Clean
Published October 26, 2009 Isiolo , Just Hanging Out Leave a CommentTags: Hygiene, Isiolo, Kenya, Soap
A bar of Janako Brand soap. Suggested uses: Washing hair, body and clothes.
The importance of washing with soap is repeated over and over again in advisory posters from the Ministry of Health. We have about 4 of them in the Mama Tumaini Health Clinic. Prevent Cholera. Finish Sickness. Wise advice.
A few weeks back I stepped out of the hellpot and into the morning air. The sun was bright and the day full of warm and unnecessarily hot promise. I headed to a small faucet a few away and proceeded to wash my hands. Without soap. I just didn’t have any. Not that big a deal, I thought. I had planned on using some ancient hand sanitizer tucked away in one of my bags. I didn’t want to linger in the sun looking for a lost bar.
As I’m bent over washing, I couldn’t help but notice my filthy sandaled feet. I stuck one in the cool water and washed it off. I took off my sandal and gave it a quick once over. I do the same to the other. All the while visions of sprinklers and vast murky bodies of water danced in my head.
Finished, I splashed some water on my face and froze in horror. I was thinking of the fact that minutes ago my sandals were on the floor of a squatter toiler. And now, I’d just splashed my face with the same hands I used to clean them.
Appalled, I made a beeline into my room to look for soap. No. I’m out. Way to go. I rummaged in my bags and found the hand sanitizer. “Kills 99.9% of germs” it touted. I can deal with .1%, I tell myself. My hand squeezed the bottle which erupted in a wet splash. And before I knew it, I was rubbing alcohol based goo all over my sun burnt face.
My face now burning and eyes watering, I went straight back to the faucet and splashed my face reputedly. The stinging subsided and I let out a sigh of relief.
Crisis over, I stood up and looked to my left. Sitting there were 20 or so of my senior school students. They’ve come to pray for Ramadan, but instead were furrowing their brows at me.
I smile and wave. A few wave back. Most just stare.
Great. I thought. See you all in class.
-
And, no, I didn’t get sick.
Mohamed, one of my photo students stopping in the middle of the game to take pictures.
So there is a big dirt field where the kids play football here at Jangwani (slang for Wind of Hope in the Arid). It’s surrounded by ball deflating thorns and gives anyone with half a lung an asthma attack.
Last Tuesday, we organized a game with the “good ball.” The boys all dawned their bright orange NOKIA jerseys and hopped to it.
One of Mohamed’s photos
Dennis here eventually got irritated with Mohamed slacking his football duties and yelled, “Stop with the camera, Mohamed! You’re looking like a tourist!”
Game Over
“Hot on top of hot.”
Published September 24, 2009 Isiolo , Just Hanging Out Leave a CommentTags: Eid, Fasting, Goats, Hands
Nassir, Mike and James celebrate Eid ul-Fitr in Isiolo, Kenya.
Eid in the morning is nice and peaceful. All the muslims in Isiolo are celebrating the end of the Ramadan fast by heading off to the local stadium for a massive group prayer. The children are dressed in their Friday best. All is well.
Eid in the afternoon is a bit of chaos. It seems to consist of hundreds of women shouting cooking instructions and ordering people to eat. During the mass confusion, I ended up getting settled with my friends Nassir, Mike and James. The food looked (and was) excellent. Rice, chilies, tomatos, goat, etc…. But the instant we started digging in, we all winced as the food was HOT. So hot all four of us burned our fingers during the meal. After 10 mins of painful, yet scrumptious eating, we had managed to to spread the food to get it cooling off.
“Give them more!” a mama shouted immediately.
Mounds of steaming hot potatos and boiling goat meat stew was thrust upon our rice. I felt like our plastic platter sagging under the weight and heat of the feast was the perfect representation of the overwhelming sense of doom we all felt. We paused and looked at each other from across the mass.
“Ay, man, this is too hot,” said Nassir. “And they are adding hot on top of hot. We need reinforcements.”
Regrettably, I agreed. The second after he asked for help a group of 6 adolescent boys descended on our platter. Eating was not eating. Eating was racing. Hands were diving in from all direction. I remember rice under finger nails, mouths-a-fire with chilies and the conflict of eating vs. taking a photo. In under four minutes the food was gone and I was still hungry.
“Survival of the fittest,” one of the mamas told me while laughing at my plight.
From fast to feast, I guess.
Man, Dog, Chicken, Car
Published September 24, 2009 Just Hanging Out Leave a CommentTags: Animals, Art, Hospital, Medical, Murals
Saw this mural at Isiolo District Hospital while Hoyo was getting her hip x-rayed. Pretty cute, though a little bloody!
