The Old Woman is Snoring

Four days of non-stop rain face. 

Everything I own is either wet and muddy, and won't be dry or clean again until the sun decides to show its cowardice face again. 

Real Housewives of Peace Corps

If you are on a diet, stop reading now. There is nothing here for you. I recommend the Health & Fitness page of Pintrest or a celery stick. The following images may be a bit to graphic for vegans also. Move along. 

Thanks to the brilliant brains of Marielle Griggs and Jane Eyerly Duncan, I now know how to make cheese. The following is a step by step instruction sequence complete with pictures of me having a rockin' Friday afternoon making dairy my bitch. 

First you need a 1.5 litres of fresh cow's milk. Non pasteurized is crucial. Also, 3 limes/lemons/vinegar or anything super acidic. 

1.5 ltr milk = 50 shillings = 57 cents

3 limes = 30 shillings = 34 cents

One pot to cook the milk in, and a handkerchief to strain out the curds and whey.

Thanks Ashley Czajka for the binder clips. I don't know how else I would have done this by myself

 

While the milk is boiling squeeze the juice outta the 3 limes into a separate cup.

 

Once the milk has boiled, and started to rise out of the pot, pour in the lime juice.

The milk will start to curdle instantly. Stir for a bit.

Pour the curds and whey over the handkerchief.

Curds.

And whey. 

I don't know what I'm going to do with all of this.

Fold the napkin around the curds and place on a flat hard surface.

Place something equally as heavy and flat on top of the curds.

Squeeze out excess juice.

Finished product!!!

It's important to note that this cheese is made entirely from the separated fat within the milk. It is in NO WAY healthy, but it is delicious. Especially when spread on garlic toast. 

Sylvester Talons

T: Look at your feet. Are these toes or talons?
J: They're stalons.
T: You mean talons.
J: No it's stalons.
T: Its talons. Iwona, is it talons or stalons?
Me: Its definitely talons. You mean like birds' feet? Yeah, talons.
T: See its talons.
J: OH, I was thinking Sylvester Stalons.
Me: Exactly.

Side note: Today I was crammed on a matatu so tightly that the heavy set woman next to me left her pit stain on my shoulder. 

Star Pupil

Last week I dealt out an assignment to my class 8, 7 and 6 students about Parenthood. We spent the lessons talking about what makes a good parent, what makes a parent bad, the different responsibilities of being a parent and how the younger someone is as a parent the more difficult it is for them to meet these responsibilities. I’m trying to deter teenage pregnancy here people.

The assignment was a list of 8 questions that I asked them to answer and tell my why they answered them.

1. Do you like children?
2. Do you have the patience to raise a child?
3. Would you beat your child if they misbehaved or you lost your temper?
4. Are you financially able to raise a child?
5. Would having a child interfere with your future goals?
6. Would you expect your child to take care of you in your old age?
7. Would you be willing to devote a large part of 18 years to be a devoted parent?
8. Could you accept and love a child who was physically or mentally disabled?

Well after piles of the same answer over and over. “Yes, because children are a gift from God.” “Yes, because you must teach your kids to stop bad behaviors.” “Yes, because I will have a career and be able to raise a family.” “Yes, because children are a blessing.”

Blah, blah, bah….Then I came across this little gem.

1. Do you like children? No, they are disturbing and making a person to have headache.
2. Do you have the patience to raise a child? No, because I don’t like them.
3. Would you beat your child if they misbehaved or you lost your temper? No, because I would not have a child.
4. Are you financially able to raise a child? No, because they are unbearable.
5. Would having a child interfere with your future goals? Yes, because when she/he is sick I wouldn’t go to work or school instead I will take her/him to the hospital and that is wastage of my time.
6. Would you expect your child to take care of you in your old age? No, because they would make me be stressed and I can finally die of ulcers.
7. Would you be willing to devote a large part of 18 years to be a devoted parent? No, they could be pretending in school and I can be called by the head teacher, and being asked silly questions.
8. Could you accept and love a child who was physically or mentally disabled? Yes, coz it is not their wish to be like that, it is also my dream that when I grow up I would like to be a charity woman who will take care of people with special needs. 

She is my new favorite student. Not because her answers are entertaining, but because it is so rare to see thinking like this, it deviates from the norm here. She is my new favorite because she is brave enough to think differently. Plus she funny as hell. I gave her TWO stickers.

My Mom Could Beat Up Your Mom

Dear Mom,
Thanks for keeping me warm in your uterus for the majority of 1986 and a bit of '85. 
Thanks for slinging me by my knees whenever we would go camping cause I couldn't quite master the art of peeing outside.
Thanks for taking us out of Polish school. That place was the worst.
Thanks for letting me draw on my walls in Middle Schol. It looked awful but I thought I was so cool. And you let me think it. 
Thanks for all the groceries during college.
Thanks for letting me be hysterical sometimes.
Thanks for giving me a weird name. Conversation starter for life.

For all the little and big things you have done for me in my life. Thanks. They haven't gone unnoticed and there is a bit of you in ever decision I make.

Love you for always and ever,
Iwona

Thanksgiving in NY

When we went 'hiking'. We need more pics of the two of us together.

B&B. Beverage and Baby.

Happy Day O' Birth

Happy Birthday to Meagan Panici. One of my oldest and dearest friends. Thanks for always explaining technology to me and making sure there was food in the house when I was to lazy to shop. 

19/20 and about to hit Chicago for our first night ever in our brand new apartment! We were babies!

A couple years older but still positioning ourselves the same. Mea on the left, me on the right. 

Post Election Reflection

So it's the 21st of April and I know you are all DYING to know more about my post election life.
As far as the Kenyan 2013 elections went from my perspective there was ofcourse some finger pointing, some ballots ditched on the side of the road, and to every Kenyan's surprise, but not our's, technology failed when turning in regional polling result. My point of view for the whole two week period from March 1-14th, was that it was sunny, the pool was a bit to cold, I ate to much garlic naan and my beverage supply never ran low. Peace Corps Kenya locked its itty bitty chickies away for a whole two weeks in a pretty posh hotel where we were encouraged to continue our language tutoring, offered courses on CPR, crafts and dancing. Just when we didn't think it was possible for Peace Corps to be any more like camp.

The Peace Corps prepared for a situation that probably looked like this: Election results posted, no matter what the outcome, one large group would be extremely unhappy. Tire burning would start, bar room brawls would escalate into the streets, rallies would be held uniting people under a banner of hate, roads would be blocked and Peace Corps Volunteers would be unable to return to their sites with a guarantee of safety. Next step? Let's get the hell outta here.

This is what actually happened: A winner was announced. Kenyans reacted mildly with joy and disapproval. Kenyans who had things to do, went about doing those things.

And far away in the safe belly of Lukenya 100 Peace Corps Volunteers all got to finally meet each other face to face and not just on Facebook. We got fat, we got sunburned and we got fun.

Meanwhile back at site....
My community was extremely excited at the results of the election. Their candidate won. Woo hoo? My feeble attempts to assure my co-workers and friends that "No I was NOT scared of the elections, my company was" fell on deaf ears and once again I got to be the source of a good hearty Kenyan chuckle. Work continues uninterrupted. Uhuru Kenyatta got sworn in on a Tues, I also received Mon and Wed off because Gikuyus know how to get down.

16 months till home! That give me 16 months to figure out what I want to be when I grow up. Woo hoo?

Runin' Around

On my last day of teaching classes for this term before the break, my school of choice Githima Primary, hosted a track competition for itself and five other schools. I got to stick around, root on some of my students, meet teachers from the other schools and take some cool pictures. I had to leave early cause I had a meeting so I missed the high jump but there is always next season. 

Our score board.

All of the Githima Primary School athletes that were competing.

The Male Javelin Competition.

See what I was saying about malnutrition?

The starting line of the Men's 10,000 meter.

Not a shoe to be seen.

This one is my student in class 7. He is such a bro. He always participates in class and regulates when the kids swarm me.

 "Teacher? Do you want us to make these girls stop disturbing you?"

My female body guards. When the kids from the other schools started swarming me and grabbing my hair my Class 7 students came to my rescue. 

The girl in front in maroon winning the Female 100 Yard Sprint is in one of my Class 8s.

This one is running in jeggings!!! We shall call her Heat Rash.

One of the few girl athletes not wearing a modesty skirt.

This one is as skinny as the javelin.

The one in pink is my student. This picture was actually a false start on his part, but he looks cool in the lead.

Chateau de Kenya

Some of the windows don't close all the way. There are a few light bulbs missing. The tank to the latrine keeps leaking. The kitchen cabinets only shut when I slam them, and almost pull my arm out of the socket to open them. There is paint everywhere there shouldn't be. In the sinks, on the electrical sockets and on the floor. Some of the rooms have spaces where there should be electrical outlets, but instead they are just covered up. It's my new house and it's perfect.  
I can now blast music as loud as my little Dell computer will let me. I can smoke inside. I can light my jiko in one room and walk into another to watch a movie, or go lay down for a nap. I can do house hold activities in all the rooms that these actions were designated for.
This is paradise. 
After spending 9 months literally living on top of my things, the comfort of being able to spread out is almost intimidating. But only for a second, cause then I realize that I can dance over here in this corner, or not wear pants walking from this room to that room or wash ANYTHING inside. Most importantly though, it makes me finally want to be here. After a day of struggling with language, or multiple people commenting on my appearance in a not so polite manner I can walk inside close the door and know that I am completely alone to my own devices. I can say what I want to my friends on the phone and know that no one is listening. I can be my weird inappropriate and disgusting self in here. It feels like home. 

What Would've Been

The Kenyan Presidential elections are right around the corner. With my possible evacuation on the heels of this event I can only reflect on my past 9 months in Kenya as the time when I lived in a Hobbit Hole. Today I slinked into the house that has been dangling in front of my face since August to snap some snaps. If I have to leave here suddenly I at least want some of the world out there to know that I could have lived like an American in Kenya. I just didn't. 

Disclaimer: I had no control over how it was painted. It looks like a hospital because it was built by a hospital. 

View from the back door into the living room. Look at that cute little kitchen window.

Looking in the living room from the other side of the room.

My bathroom vanity in the hallway. Yes that is a mirror and a sink with running water. 

Closets. There is one of these in each of the two bedrooms. It would've meant me not storing things in suitcases like a hobo anymore. 

Cute picture from my cute little kitchen window. 

My kitchen where I could have cooked and cut things on counters. 

Yes you see that correctly.

And electricity.

The best part. A FLUSHABLE latrine. 

The salt to the wounds. A hot shower. 

I've spent most of my time these last 7 months forgetting this place existed because it made living in the Hobbit Hole bearable.  I have to walk past it everyday just to go anywhere. Now it will simply haunt my dreams. 

Another List!

Peace Corps Kenya Is…

-Holding your laptop over your head to catch the signal so your page can load.
-Is never having clean feet. 
-Eating things off the ground even though you know you shouldn’t. I AM that starving kid in Africa. 
-When you consider a french braid your “fancy” hairstyle.
-Knowing that indoor plumbing is a blessing, not a right.
-Accepting that their will always be some urine on your shoes. --Hopefully it is at least your own. 
-Using the floor to cut, cook and eat your food on. 
-Becoming comfortable with all the smells your body creates. 
-Watching all the X-Men movies in one day. Yes, that includes “Wolverine” and “First Class”.
-Putting peanut butter on everything. Including your dirty hand. 

A Family of Wazungu

B: You will be here for a long time. Will you take a Kenyan husband?
Me: Well no. I would miss my family to much. It is a very far distance to stay away.
B: When you say "family" do you mean white people or your parents?
Me: I mean my parents. 

LIMA BEANS!!!

Alright kiddos and kiddettes time to buckle down for some reality.

SEEDS
They are in the Home Depot check out aisle, they are in that weird junk drawer at your parents house they are even in those nondescript bridal shower goodie bags. They are also really expensive here. In Africa. Did I mention Africa?

I'm working with a group of Community Health Workers (CHWs) who are also all volunteers and are also all working for little to no incentive. They simply work to help improve the health of their communities. After many meetings and some problem analysis we have identified one of the more troubling health issues here to be malnutrition. Though my area is extremely fertile and almost everyone is a subsistence farmer there is a lack of protein yielding crops. You can buy beans here yes, but when most survive on less than a dollar a day almost everyone just eats what is in their garden/fields, and there isn't any protein.

The CHWs have all agreed to donate portions of their own land to help start growing lima beans. Once we can establish a good harvest, we hope to be able to sell the seedlings and beans to the community so they may also start growing protein. Thus creating an Income Generating Activity (IGA) while simultaneously improving the health of the community. That is how we end up back at seeds. The CHWs have all contributed some funds for seeds, but unfortunately we are a bit short. I am donating a small contribution, but we need some extra to close the gap.

If you have an extra $5-$10 dollars laying around please email me at iwona.matczuk@gmail.com. I will be documenting the project here so you will be able to follow the progress first hand.

Thanks for reading, and now back to our previously scheduled silliness and ridiculous ramblings. 

2+6=8 Sounds About Right

As I climb the ladder of age and wisdom I realize I'm more or less falling down the stairs of maturity. I eat candy for breakfast, cause I can. I don't want to get out of bed, so I don't. I eat food off the ground, cause I'm not scared to die. And I hate rules, cause they are unfair and mean and you can't tell me what to do.
It isn't that I hate rules as much as I like to break them regardless on whether I think it is a good rule or not. When did this little sister brain of mine win out over the traveled, socialized and educated brain? Not entirely sure. 
Am I de-evolving in Africa? Probably.
My best advice to you if you want to get me to do something is to simply tell me NOT to do it. The secret is out. I have nothing left to hide.
Short of stomping my feet and holding my breath I'm more or less a passing adult, but if you dangle candy in my face I would probably do just about anything at this point. 
Most of the answers to the problems I face each day could end with any of the following answers:
"You're not my mom!"
"Cause I wanna!"
"But why?"
"I'm bored."
"I don't want to eat that, it's icky."

It Does Exist!

Just hanging out on the coffee table in my favorite sweatshirt EVER!!!

Cooking Up A Great New Year

TIS THE NEW YEAR! Hoorah for 2013. Lets start my first blog post of the new year with a lesson for the first world. It started as a bag of plums and ended with burnt pots and pans. The following pictures represent how to light a Jiko (charcoal stove). My jiko's name is Terry. She can sometimes be a bitch. But Terry and I took an adventure on how to make an oven and then made some amazing Plum Cobbler. The Plums were picked straight from the tree and I still have a ton left. 

My bag of tricks.

First soak a cotton ball with menthylated spirits. Extremely flammable.

Keep away from your eyes and mucus membranes.

If you have a neighbor that is tired of seeing you struggle with just spirits, he will by you cedar kindling. Add that if you can.

Pile copious amounts of charcoal on top.

Light inside. 

Place outside in a well ventilated area. 

15 mins later you are ready to get to cookin'.

Here comes the plum cobbler. 

On the bottom of your big pot put some stones. I used pink quartz. You don't have to be as fancy

1/2 cup of melted butter. Or Blue Band.

.

1 cup of sugar, 1 cup of flour, some baking powder and 3/4 cup of milk.

Pour the flour mixture on top of the butter. Do not stir.

Put the cut up plums on top.

Pour some more sugar on top. 

Put the little pot inside the bigger pot on top of the stones.

Place on top of the charcoal jiko.

Cover.

Halfway through it should look like this.

Finished product.

Eat with fork straight out of the pot every 3 to 4 hours until finished.