Start reading from the blog post titled "Rural Week!" below
After a large lunch and a relaxing morning we boarded several matatu-like vans with our bags, water supply for the week, and gifts of food for the host families. In a little under an hour we reached the village and began dropping people off. After leaving Lily and Alex with their families we pulled up to my house. Allie and I both got out (her dad would come get her later) and were greeted by my host sister, Caroline. I introduced myself as Bailey but she seemed to here Pareal, which would come to be my name for the rest of the week. I eventually managed to get her to understand the first letter was “b” but Bareal was as good as it was going to get.
The house was nice and was surrounded by many trees. There were two buildings, the larger one made of cement with a tin roof and the smaller of mud/clay. In the back they had a chicken coup and rabbit house as well as another clay building, which served as a cooking area. Nearby, they had a field where they grow maize, bananas, sukumawiki (kale), beans, etc. Many people in the village survive by subsistence farming or selling their produce in the local market. Much of the food we would each this week would be from the garden. After arriving we sat in the living room of the main house as a group of children giggled excitedly, but were scared to come too close. Two of those kids I would later find out were my host sister’s daughters, Velma (age five) and Nicole (age three). After greeting them all, I helped do the dishes, although it seemed more like rubbing dirt around with soap and water. As I washed Velma rinsed and set them up to dry. Already, I was so impressed by how much work she does around the house. I definitely was not doing dishes at five years old.
The house was nice and was surrounded by many trees. There were two buildings, the larger one made of cement with a tin roof and the smaller of mud/clay. In the back they had a chicken coup and rabbit house as well as another clay building, which served as a cooking area. Nearby, they had a field where they grow maize, bananas, sukumawiki (kale), beans, etc. Many people in the village survive by subsistence farming or selling their produce in the local market. Much of the food we would each this week would be from the garden. After arriving we sat in the living room of the main house as a group of children giggled excitedly, but were scared to come too close. Two of those kids I would later find out were my host sister’s daughters, Velma (age five) and Nicole (age three). After greeting them all, I helped do the dishes, although it seemed more like rubbing dirt around with soap and water. As I washed Velma rinsed and set them up to dry. Already, I was so impressed by how much work she does around the house. I definitely was not doing dishes at five years old.
I was shown to my bed in the smaller clay house before going on a tour of the entire property. Behind our house there was another piece of land with six or so houses, where my extended family lived. The great grandfather was polygamous and had six wives, each of whom had a house. Three of those wives were still alive and live on the property and their children’s families occupied the other houses. We were warmly greeted as we stopped in each home. We sat for a while in each one, especially in each of the grandmothers’ homes (they were all so happy to have us there with them). The great grandfather (now 87) still heards cattle and some of the grandmothers sell produce at the market. Caroline introduced them all to us emphasizing how old they were, however in this culture (as in many African cultures), being old does not have the negative connotation we associate with it. She also followed by noting that each of them were still very strong. All of the grandmothers told Caroline they wished I would stay with them and asked that I come back tomorrow.
Velma and Nicole finally warmed up to us and began to hold our hands everywhere we went. It started pouring rain so we headed back to our home to stay dry. Once the rain had stopped we gathered up Allie’s things and walked her to her fathers house. He was getting home just as we arrived so we had a chance to greet him and meet her hose sisters before heading to the market where I was introduced to countless more people. It was mostly in Luo so I couldn’t really understand what was happening, but there was lots of hand shaking and "mzungu" thrown around. The market is open every day from around 5:30 to 7:00pm (when it gets dark) and since it's very small, you can always count on meeting people there. We bought some tomatoes and onions from one of the relatives we had met earlier and then picked up some eggs from one of the small shops surrounding the market. By the time we had reached home, it was dark and we had to light a lantern for light, as there is no electricity. I helped Caroline peel the kale off its stalks and then watched her skillfully cut it into tiny shreds. My host mom, Mary, finally returned home from work and was excited to meet me. She is the head teacher at a nearby primary school and was busy administering the Kenyan national exams all day to level 8 students. Her English was very good so we chatted on an off as dinner was prepared while Velma played with my hair.
Once dinner was ready we all sat around the table in the dark except for the lantern. We ate sukumuwiki, ugali (a staple component of Kenyan food, essentially a solid cornmeal mush) and scrambled eggs. We ate with our hands, using the ugali as a utensil. While the food was delicious there was so much of it, I physically could not put it all in my body. We had been told it was crucial to finish our plates as not to be rude (but in this case it was not really a possibility. By the time I gave up I felt like I could throw up). Surprisingly it was not awkward when I failed to finish my food. The family spoke almost exclusively in Luo during dinner and since I only know a few Luo words, I missed almost all of it. After dinner we sat around the living room and drank chai while I spoke to my host mom and tickled Velma. Before heading to bed I used the pit latrine in the house since I had learned earlier that the other one was simply a jerry can surrounded by four tin walls outside (never really figured out how that was supposed to work).
Velma and Nicole finally warmed up to us and began to hold our hands everywhere we went. It started pouring rain so we headed back to our home to stay dry. Once the rain had stopped we gathered up Allie’s things and walked her to her fathers house. He was getting home just as we arrived so we had a chance to greet him and meet her hose sisters before heading to the market where I was introduced to countless more people. It was mostly in Luo so I couldn’t really understand what was happening, but there was lots of hand shaking and "mzungu" thrown around. The market is open every day from around 5:30 to 7:00pm (when it gets dark) and since it's very small, you can always count on meeting people there. We bought some tomatoes and onions from one of the relatives we had met earlier and then picked up some eggs from one of the small shops surrounding the market. By the time we had reached home, it was dark and we had to light a lantern for light, as there is no electricity. I helped Caroline peel the kale off its stalks and then watched her skillfully cut it into tiny shreds. My host mom, Mary, finally returned home from work and was excited to meet me. She is the head teacher at a nearby primary school and was busy administering the Kenyan national exams all day to level 8 students. Her English was very good so we chatted on an off as dinner was prepared while Velma played with my hair.
Once dinner was ready we all sat around the table in the dark except for the lantern. We ate sukumuwiki, ugali (a staple component of Kenyan food, essentially a solid cornmeal mush) and scrambled eggs. We ate with our hands, using the ugali as a utensil. While the food was delicious there was so much of it, I physically could not put it all in my body. We had been told it was crucial to finish our plates as not to be rude (but in this case it was not really a possibility. By the time I gave up I felt like I could throw up). Surprisingly it was not awkward when I failed to finish my food. The family spoke almost exclusively in Luo during dinner and since I only know a few Luo words, I missed almost all of it. After dinner we sat around the living room and drank chai while I spoke to my host mom and tickled Velma. Before heading to bed I used the pit latrine in the house since I had learned earlier that the other one was simply a jerry can surrounded by four tin walls outside (never really figured out how that was supposed to work).